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diff --git a/old/14832-8.txt b/old/14832-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..295cf2e --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14832-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10340 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Maid of the Silver Sea, by John Oxenham, +Illustrated by Harold Copping + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: A Maid of the Silver Sea + +Author: John Oxenham + +Release Date: January 29, 2005 [eBook #14832] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MAID OF THE SILVER SEA*** + + +E-text prepared by Steven Gibbs and the Project Gutenberg Online +Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) + + + +A MAID OF THE SILVER SEA + +by + +JOHN OXENHAM + +With Frontispiece in Colour by Harold Copping + +Hodder and Stoughton Warwick Square, London, E.C. + + + + + + + + TO + MY FRIEND + EDWARD BAKER + OF LA CHAUMIERE, SARK + + ON WHOSE MOST HOSPITABLE AND SUPREMELY + COMFORTABLE VERANDAH, LOOKING OUT + TO THE FAIR COAST OF FRANCE, THIS + STORY WAS PARTLY WRITTEN, I + INSCRIBE THE SAME IN REMEMBRANCE + OF MANY + DELIGHTFUL DAYS + TOGETHER + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER I + HOW TWO LAY IN A CLEFT + + CHAPTER II + HOW NANCE CAME TO BE HERSELF + + CHAPTER III + HOW THE NEW MINE CAPTAIN CAME + + CHAPTER IV + HOW GARD MADE NEW ACQUAINTANCES + + CHAPTER V + HOW NANCE SHONE THROUGH HER MODEST VEILING + + CHAPTER VI + HOW GRANNIE SCHEMED SCHEMES + + CHAPTER VII + HOW GARD FOUGHT GALES AND TOM + + CHAPTER VIII + HOW TOM WANTED TO BUT DIDN'T DARE + + CHAPTER IX + HOW OLD TOM FOUND THE SILVER HEART + + CHAPTER X + HOW YOUNG TOM FOUND HIS MATCH + + CHAPTER XI + HOW GARD DREW NEARER TO HIS HEART'S DESIRE + + CHAPTER XII + HOW NANCE CAME UP THE MAIN SHAFT WITHOUT GOING DOWN IT + + CHAPTER XIII + HOW GARD REFUSED AN OFFER AND MADE AN ENEMY + + CHAPTER XIV + HOW THEY WENT THROUGH THE DARKNESS OF THE NARROW WAY + + CHAPTER XV + HOW TWO FELL OUT + + CHAPTER XVI + HOW ONE FELL OVER + + CHAPTER XVII + HOW TOM WENT TO SCHOOL FOR THE LAST TIME + + CHAPTER XVIII + HOW PETER'S DIPLOMACY CAME TO NOUGHT + + CHAPTER XIX + HOW THE SARK MEN FELT ABOUT IT + + CHAPTER XX + HOW SARK CRAVED BLOOD FOR BLOOD + + CHAPTER XXI + HOW LOVE TOOK LOVE TO SANCTUARY + + CHAPTER XXII + HOW THE STARS SANG OF HOPE + + CHAPTER XXIII + HOW NANCE SENT FOOD AND HOPE TO HIM + + CHAPTER XXIV + HOW HE SAW STRANGE SIGHTS + + CHAPTER XXV + HOW HE LIVED THROUGH THE GREAT STORM + + CHAPTER XXVI + HOW HE HELD THE ROCK + + CHAPTER XXVII + HOW ONE CAME TO HIM LIKE AN ANGEL FROM HEAVEN + + CHAPTER XXVIII + HOW THE OTHERS CAME TO MAKE AN END + + CHAPTER XXIX + HOW HE CAME INTO AN UNKNOWN PLACE + + CHAPTER XXX + HOW NANCE WATCHED FROM AFAR + + CHAPTER XXXI + HOW TWO WENT IN AND THREE CAME OUT + + CHAPTER XXXII + HOW JULIE MEDITATED EVIL + + CHAPTER XXXIII + HOW HOPE CAME ONCE AGAIN + + CHAPTER XXXIV + HOW JULIE'S SCHEMES FELL FLAT + + CHAPTER XXXV + HOW AN ANGEL CAME BRINGING THE TRUTH + + CHAPTER XXXVI + HOW HE CAME HOME FROM L'ETAT + + CHAPTER XXXVII + HOW THEY LAID TRAPS FOR THE DEVIL + + CHAPTER XXXVIII + HOW THEY LAID THE DEVIL BY THE HEELS + + CHAPTER XXXIX + HOW THEY THANKED GOD FOR HIS MERCIES + + + + +CHAPTER I + +HOW TWO LAY IN A CLEFT + + +A girl and a boy lay in a cubby-hole in the north side of the cliff +overlooking Port Gorey, and watched the goings-on down below. + +The sun was tending towards Guernsey and the gulf was filled witn golden +light. A small brig, unkempt and dirty, was nosing towards the rough +wooden landing-stage clamped to the opposite rocks, as though doubtful +of the advisability of attempting its closer acquaintance. + +"Mon Gyu, Bern, how I wish they were all at the bottom of the sea!" said +the girl vehemently. + +"Whe--e--e--w!" whistled the boy, and then with a twinkle in his +eye,--"Who's got a new parasol now?" + +"Everybody!--but it's not that. It's the bustle--and the dirt--and the +noise--and oh--everything! You can't remember what it was like before +these wretched mines came--no dust, no noise, no bustle, no dirty men, +no silly women, no nothing as it is now. Just Sark as it used to be. And +now--! Mon Gyu, yes I wish the sea would break in through their nasty +tunnels and wash them all away--pumps and engines and houses--everything!" + +And up on the hillside at the head of the gulf the great pumping-engine +clacked monotonously "Never! Never! Never!" + +"You've got it bad to-day, Nan," said the boy. + +"I've always got it bad. It makes me sick. It has changed everything and +everybody--everybody except mother and you," she added quickly. +"Get--get--get! Why we hardly used to know what money was, and now no +one thinks of anything but getting all they can. It is sickening." + +"S--s--s--s--t!" signalled the boy suddenly, at the sound of steps and +voices on the cliff outside and close at hand. + +"Tom," muttered the boy. + +"And Peter Mauger," murmured the girl, and they both shrank lower into +their hiding-place. + +It was a tiny natural chamber in the sharp slope of the hill. Ages ago +the massive granite boulders of the headland, loosened and undercut by +the ceaseless assaults of wind and weather and the deadly quiet fingers +of the frost, had come rolling down the slope till they settled afresh +on new foundations, forming holes and crannies and little angular +chambers where the splintered shoulders met. In time, the soil silted +down and covered their asperities, and--like a good colonist--carrying +in itself the means of increase, it presently brought forth and +blossomed, and the erstwhile shattered rocks were royally robed in +russet and purple, and green and gold. + +Among these fantastic little chambers Nance had played as a child, and +had found refuge in them from the persecutions of her big half-brother, +Tom Hamon. Tom was six when she was born--fourteen accordingly when she +was at the teasable age of eight, and unusually tempting as a victim by +reason of her passionate resentment of his unwelcome attentions. + +She hated Tom, and Tom had always resented her and her mother's +intrusion into the family, and Bernel's, when he came, four years after +Nance. + +What his father wanted to marry again for, Tom never could make out. His +lack of training and limited powers of expression did not indeed permit +him any distinct reasoning on the matter, but the feeling was there--a +dull resentment which found its only vent and satisfaction in stolid +rudeness to his stepmother and the persecution of Nance and Bernel +whenever occasion offered. + +The household was not therefore on too happy a footing. + +It consisted, at the time when our story opens, of--Old Mrs. +Hamon--Grannie--half of whose life had been lived in the nineteenth +century and half in the eighteenth. She had seen all the wild doings of +the privateering and free-trading days, and recalled as a comparatively +recent event the raiding of the Island by the men of Herm, though that +happened forty years before. + +She was for the most part a very reserved and silent old lady, but her +tongue could bite like a whip when the need arose. + +She occupied her own dower-rooms in the house, and rarely went outside +them. All day long she sat in her great arm-chair by the window in her +sitting-room, with the door wide open, so that she could see all that +went on in the house and outside it; and in the sombre depths of her +great black silk sun-bonnet--long since turned by age and weather to +dusky green--her watchful eyes had in them something of the inscrutable +and menacing. + +Her wants were very few, and as her income from her one-third of the +farm had far exceeded her expenses for more than twenty years, she was +reputed as rich in material matters as she undoubtedly was in +common-sense and worldly wisdom. Even young Tom was sulkily silent +before her on the rare occasions when they came into contact. + +Next in the family came the nominal head of it, "Old Tom" Hamon, to +distinguish him from young Tom, his son; a rough, not ill-natured man, +until the money-getting fever seized him, since which time his +home-folks had found in him changes that did not make for their comfort. + +The discovery of silver in Sark, the opening of the mines, and the +coming of the English miners--with all the very problematical benefits +of a vastly increased currency of money, and the sudden introduction of +new ideas and standards of life and living into a community which had +hitherto been contented with the order of things known to its +forefathers--these things had told upon many, but on none more than old +Tom Hamon. + +Suspicious at first of the meaning and doings of these strangers, he +very soon found them advantageous. He got excellent prices for his farm +produce, and when his horses and carts were not otherwise engaged he +could always turn them to account hauling for the mines. + +As the silver-fever grew in him he became closer in his dealings both +abroad and at home. With every pound he could scrimp and save he bought +shares in the mines and believed in them absolutely. And he went on +scrimping and saving and buying shares so as to have as large a stake in +the silver future as possible. + +He got no return as yet from his investment, indeed. But that would +come all right in time, and the more shares he could get hold of the +larger the ultimate return would be. And so he stinted himself and his +family, and mortgaged his future, in hopes of wealth which he would not +have known how to enjoy if he had succeeded in getting it. + +So possessed was he with the desire for gain that when young Tom came +home from sea he left the farming to him, and took to the mining +himself, and worked harder than he had ever worked in his life before. + +He was a sturdy, middle-sized man, with a grizzled bullet head and +rounded beard, of a dogged and pertinacious disposition, but capable, +when stirred out of his usual phlegm, of fiery outbursts which overbore +all argument and opposition. His wife died when his boy Tom was three, +and after two years of lonely discomfort he married Nancy Poidestre of +Petit Dixcart, whose people looked upon it as something of a +_mésalliance_ that she should marry out of her own country into Little +Sark. + +Nancy was eminently good-looking and a notable housewife, and she went +into Tom Hamon's house of La Closerie with every hope and intention of +making him happy. + +But, from the very first, little Tom set his face against her. + +It would be hard to say why. Nancy racked her brain for reasons, and +could find none, and was miserable over it. + +His father thrashed him for his rudeness and insolence, which only made +matters worse. + +His own mother had given way to him in everything, and spoiled him +completely. After her death his father out of pity for his forlorn +estate, had equally given way to him, and only realised, too late, when +he tried to bring him to with a round turn, how thoroughly out of hand +he had got. + +When little Tom found, as one consequence of the new mother's arrival, +that his father thrashed instead of humouring him, he put it all down to +the new-comer's account, and set himself to her discomfiture in every +way his barbarous little wits could devise. + +He never forgot one awful week he passed in his grandmother's care--a +week that terminated in the arrival of still another new-comer, who, in +course of time, developed into little Nance. It is not impossible that +the remembrance of that black week tended to colour his after-treatment +of his little half-sister. In spite of her winsomeness he hated her +always, and did his very best to make life a burden to her. + +When, on that memorable occasion, he was hastily flung by his father +into his grandmother's room, as the result of some wickedness which had +sorely upset his stepmother, and the door was, most unusually, closed +behind him, his first natural impulse was to escape as quickly as +possible. + +But he became aware of something unusual and discomforting in the +atmosphere, and when his grandmother said sternly, "Sit down!" and he +turned on her to offer his own opinion on the matter, he found the keen +dark eyes gazing out at him from under the shadowy penthouse of the +great black sun-bonnet, with so intent and compelling a stare that his +mouth closed without saying a word. He climbed up on to a chair and +twisted his feet round the legs by way of anchorage. + +Then he sat up and stared back at Grannie, and as an exhibition of +nonchalance and high spirit, put out his tongue at her. + +Grannie only looked at him. + +And, bit by bit, the tongue withdrew, and only the gaping mouth was +left, and above it a pair of frightened green eyes, transmitting to the +perverse little soul within new impressions and vague terrors. + +Before long his left arm went up over his face to shut out the sight of +Grannie's dreadful staring eyes, and when, after a sufficient interval, +he ventured a peep at her and found her eyes still fixed on him, he +howled, "Take it off! Take it off!" and slipped his anchors and slid to +the floor, hunching his back at this tormentor who could beat him on his +own ground. + +For that week he gave no trouble to any one. But after it he never went +near Grannie's room, and for years he never spoke to her. When he passed +her open door, or in front of her window, he hunched his shoulder +protectively and averted his eyes. + +Resenting control in any shape or form, Tom naturally objected to +school. + +His stepmother would have had him go--for his own sake as well as hers. +But his father took a not unusual Sark view of the matter. + +"What's the odds?" said he. "He'll have the farm. Book-learning will be +no use to him," and in spite of Nancy's protests--which Tom regarded as +simply the natural outcrop of her ill-will towards him--the boy grew up +untaught and uncontrolled, and knowing none but the worst of all +masters--himself. + +On occasion, when the tale of provocation reached its limit, his father +thrashed him, until there came a day when Tom upset the usual course of +proceedings by snatching the stick out of his father's hands, and would +have belaboured him in turn if he had not been promptly knocked down. + +After that his father judged it best for all concerned that he should +flight his troublesome wings outside for a while. So he sent him off in +a trading-ship, in the somewhat forlorn hope that a knowledge of the +world would knock some of the devil out of him--a hope which, like many +another, fell short of accomplishment. + +The world knocks a good deal out of a man, but it also knocks a good +deal in. Tom came back from his voyaging knowing a good many things that +he had not known when he started--a little English among others--and +most of the others things which had been more profitably left unlearnt. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +HOW NANCE CAME TO BE HERSELF + + +And little Nance? + +The most persistent memories of Nance's childhood were her fear and +hatred of Tom, and her passionate love for her mother,--and Bernel when +he came. + +"My own," she called these two, and regarded even her father as somewhat +outside that special pale; esteemed Grannie as an Olympian, benevolently +inclined, but dwelling on a remote and loftier plane; and feared and +detested Tom as an open enemy. + +And she had reasons. + +She was a high-strung child, too strong and healthy to be actually +nervous, but with every faculty always at its fullest--not only in +active working order but always actively at work--an admirable subject +therefore for the malevolence of an enemy whose constant proximity +offered him endless opportunity. + +Much of his boyish persecution never reached the ears of the higher +powers. Nance very soon came to accept Tom's rough treatment as natural +from a big fellow of fourteen to a small girl of eight, and she bore it +stoically and hated him the harder. + +Her mother taught her carefully to say her prayers, which included +petitions for the welfare of Grannie and father and brother Tom, and for +a time, with the perfunctoriness of childhood, which attaches more +weight to the act than to the meaning of it, she allowed that to pass +with a stickle and a slur. But very soon brother Tom was ruthlessly +dropped out of the ritual, and neither threats nor persuasion could +induce her to re-establish him. + +Later on, and in private, she added to her acknowledged petitions an +appendix, unmistakably brief and to the point--"And, O God, please kill +brother Tom!"--and lived in hope. + +She was an unusually pretty child, though her prettiness developed +afterwards--as childish prettiness does not always--into something finer +and more lasting. + +She had, as a child, large dark blue eyes, which wore as a rule a look +of watchful anxiety--put there by brother Tom. To the end of her life +she carried the mark of a cut over her right eyebrow, which came within +an ace of losing her the sight of that eye. It was brother Tom did that. + +She had an abundance of flowing brown hair, by which Tom delighted to +lift her clear off the ground, under threat of additional boxed ears if +she opened her mouth. The wide, firm little mouth always remained +closed, but the blue eyes burned fiercely, and the outraged little +heart, thumping furiously at its impotence, did its best to salve its +wounds with ceaseless repetition of its own private addition to the +prescribed form of morning and evening prayer. + +Once, even Tom's dull wit caught something of meaning in the blaze of +the blue eyes. + +"What are you saying, you little devil?" he growled, and released her so +suddenly that she fell on her knees in the mud. + +And she put her hands together, as she was in the habit of doing, and +prayed, "O God, please kill brother Tom!" + +"Little devil!" said brother Tom, with a startled red face, and made a +dash at her; but she had foreseen that and was gone like a flash. + +One might have expected her childish comeliness to exercise something of +a mollifying effect on his brutality. On the contrary, it seemed but to +increase it. She was so sweet; he was so coarse. She was so small and +fragile; he was so big and strong. Her prettiness might work on others. +He would let her see and feel that he was not the kind to be fooled by +such things. + +He had the elemental heartlessness of the savage, which recognises no +sufferings but its own, and refuses to be affected even by them. + +When Nance's kitten, presented to her by their neighbour, Mrs. Helier +Baker, solved much speculation as to its sex by becoming a mother, Tom +gladly undertook the task of drowning the superfluous offspring. He got +so much amusement out of it that, for weeks, Nance's horrified inner +vision saw little blind heads, half-drowned and mewing piteously, +striving with feeble pink claws to climb out of the death-tub and being +ruthlessly set swimming again till they sank. + +She hurled herself at Tom as he gloated over his enjoyment, and would +have asked nothing better than to treat him as he was treating the +kittens--righteous retribution in her case, not enjoyment!--but he was +too strong for her. He simply kicked out behind, and before she could +get up had thrust one of his half-drowned victims into the neck of her +frock, and the clammy-dead feel of it and its pitiful screaming set her +shuddering for months whenever she thought of it. + +But now and again her tormentor overpassed the bounds and got his +reward--to Nance's immediate satisfaction but subsequent increased +tribulation. For whenever he got a thrashing on her account he never +failed to pay her out in the smaller change of persecution which never +came to light. + +On a pitch-dark, starless night, the high-hedged--and in places +deep-sunk--lanes of Little Sark are as black as the inside of an ebony +ruler. + +When the moon bathes sea and land in a flood of shimmering silver, or on +a clear night of stars--and the stars in Sark, you must know, shine +infinitely larger and closer and brighter than in most other places--the +darkness below is lifted somewhat by reason of the majestic width and +height of the glittering dome above. But when moon and stars alike are +wanting, then the darkness of a Sark lane is a thing to be felt, and--if +you should happen to be a little girl of eight, with a large imagination +and sharp ears that have picked up fearsome stories of witches and +ghosts and evil spirits--to be mortally feared. + +Tom had a wholesome dread of such things himself. But the fear of +fourteen, in a great strong body and no heavenly spark of imagination, +is not to be compared with the fear of eight and a mind that could +quiver like a harp even at its own imaginings. And, to compass his ends, +he would blunt his already dull feelings and turn the darkness to his +account. + +When he knew Nance was out on such a night--on some errand, or in at a +neighbour's--to crouch in the hedge and leap silently out upon her was +huge delight; and it was well worth braving the grim possibilities of +the hedges in order to extort from her the anger in the bleat of terror +which, as a rule, was all that her paralysed heart permitted, as she +turned and fled. + +Almost more amusing--as considerably extending the enjoyment--was it to +follow her quietly on such occasions, yet not so quietly but that she +was perfectly aware of footsteps behind, which stopped when she stopped +and went on again when she went on, and so kept her nerves on the quiver +the whole time. + +Creeping fearfully along in the blackness, with eyes and ears on the +strain, and both little shoulders humped against the expected apparition +of Tom--or worse, she would become aware of the footsteps behind her. + +Then she would stop suddenly to make sure, and stand listening +painfully, and hear nothing but the low hoarse growl of the sea that +rarely ceases, day or night, among the rocks of Little Sark. + +Then she would take a tentative step or two and stop again, and then +dash on. And always there behind her were the footsteps that followed in +the dark. + +Then she would fumble with her foot for a stone and stoop hastily--for +you are at a disadvantage with ghosts and with Toms when you stoop--and +pick it up and hurl it promiscuously in the direction of the footsteps, +and quaver, in a voice that belied its message, "Go away, Tom Hamon! I +can see you,"--which was a little white fib born of the black urgency of +the situation;--"and I'm not the least bit afraid,"--which was most +decidedly another. + +And so the journey would progress fitfully and in spasms, and leave +nightmare recollections for the disturbance of one's sleep. + +But there were variations in the procedure at times. + +As when, on one occasion, Nance's undiscriminating projectile elicited +from the darkness a plaintive "Moo!" which came, she knew, from her +favourite calf Jeanetton, who had broken her tether in the field and +sought companionship in the road, and had followed her doubtfully, +stopping whenever she stopped, and so received the punishment intended +for another. + +Nance kissed the bruise on Jeanetton's ample forehead next day very many +times, and explained the whole matter to her at considerable length, and +Jeanetton accepted it all very placidly and bore no ill-will. + +Another time, when Nance had taken a very specially compounded cake over +to her old friend, Mrs. Baker, as a present from her mother, and had +been kept much longer than she wished--for the old lady's enjoyment of +her pretty ways and entertaining prattle--she set out for home in fear +and trembling. + +It was one of the pitch-black nights, and she went along on tiptoes, +hugging the empty plate to her breast, and glancing fearfully over first +one shoulder, then the other, then over both and back and front all at +once. + +She was almost home, and very grateful for it, when the dreaded black +figure leaped silently out at her from its crouching place, and she tore +down the lane to the house, Tom's hoarse guffaws chasing her mockingly. + +The open door cleft a solid yellow wedge in the darkness. She was almost +into it, when her foot caught, and she flung head foremost into the +light with a scream, and lay there with the blood pouring down her face +from the broken plate. + +A finger's-breadth lower and she would have gone through life one-eyed, +which would have been a grievous loss to humanity at large, for sweeter +windows to a large sweet soul never shone than those out of which +little Nance Hamon's looked. + +Most houses may be judged by their windows, but these material windows +are not always true gauge of what is within. They may be decked to +deceive, but the clear windows of the soul admit of no disguise. That +little life tenant is always looking out and showing himself in his true +colours--whether he knows it or not. + +Nance's terrified scream took old Tom out at a bound. He had heard the +quick rush of her feet and Tom's mocking laughter in the distance. He +carried Nance in to her mother, snatched up a stick, and went after the +culprit who had promptly disappeared. + +It was two days before Tom sneaked in again and took his thrashing +dourly. Little Nance had shut her lips tight when her father questioned +her, and refused to say a word. But he was satisfied as to where the +blame lay and administered justice with a heavy hand. + +Bernel--as soon as he grew to persecutable age--provided Tom with +another victim. But time was on the victims' side, and when Nance got to +be twelve--Bernel being then eight and Tom eighteen--their combined +energies and furies of revolt against his oppressions put matters more +on a level. + +Many a pitched battle they had, and sometimes almost won. But, win or +lose, the fact that they had no longer to suffer without lifting a hand +was great gain to them, and the very fact that they had to go about +together for mutual protection knitted still stronger the ties that +bound them one to the other. + +But, though little Nance's earlier years suffered much from the black +shadow of brother Tom, they were very far from being years of darkness. + +She was of an unusually bright and enquiring disposition, always +wanting to see and know and understand, interested in everything about +her, and never satisfied till she had got to the bottom of things, or at +all events as far down as it was possible for a small girl to get. + +Her lively chatter and ceaseless questions left her mother and Grannie +small chance of stagnation. But, if she asked many questions--and some +of them posers--it was not simply for the sake of asking, but because +she truly wanted to know; and even Grannie, who was not naturally +talkative, never resented her pertinent enquiries, but gave freely of +her accumulated wisdom and enjoyed herself in the giving. + +When she got beyond their depth at times, or outside their limits, she +would boldly carry her queries--and strange ones they were at times--to +old Mr. Cachemaille, the Vicar up in Sark, making nothing of the journey +and the Coupée in order to solve some, to her, important problem. And he +not only never refused her but delighted to open to her the stores of a +well-stocked mind and of the kindest and gentlest of hearts. + +Often and often the people of Vauroque and Plaisance would see them +pass, hand in hand and full of talk, when the Vicar had wished to see +with his own eyes one or other of Nance's wonderful discoveries, in the +shape of cave or rock-pool, or deposit of sparkling crystal +fingers--amethyst and topaz--or what not. + +For she was ever lighting on odd and beautiful bits of Nature's +craftsmanship. Books were hardly to be had in those days, and in place +of them she climbed fearlessly about the rough cliff-sides and tumbled +headlands, and looked close at Nature with eyes that missed nothing and +craved everything. + +To the neighbours the headlands were places where rabbits were to be +shot for dinner, the lower rocks places where ormers and limpets and +vraie might be found. But to little Nance the rabbits were playfellows +whose sudden deaths she lamented and resented; the cliff-sides were +glorious gardens thick with sweet-scented yellow gorse and honeysuckle +and wild roses, carpeted with primroses and bluebells; and, in their +season, rich and juicy with blackberries beyond the possibilities of +picking. + +She was on closest visiting terms with innumerable broods of +newly-hatched birdlings--knew them, indeed, while they were still but +eggs--delighted in them when they were as yet but skin and +mouth--rejoiced in their featherings and flyings. Even baby cuckoos were +a joy to her, though, on their foster-mothers' accounts she resented the +thriftlessness of their parents, and grew tired each year of their +monotonous call which ceased not day or night. But of the larks never, +for their songs seemed to her of heaven, while the cuckoos were of +earth. The gulls, too, were somewhat difficult from the friendly point +of view, but she lay for hours overlooking their domestic arrangements +and envying the wonders of their matchless flight. + +And down below the cliffs what marvels she discovered!--marvels which in +many cases the Vicar was fain to content himself with at second hand, +since closer acquaintance seemed to him to involve undoubted risk to +limb if not to life. Little Nance, indeed, hopped down the seamed cliffs +like a rock pipit, with never a thought of the dangers of the passage, +and he would stand and watch her with his heart in his mouth, and only +shake his grey head at her encouraging assertions that it was truly +truly as easy as easy. For he felt certain that even if he got down he +would never get up again. And so, when the triumphant shout from below +told him she was safely landed, he would wave a grateful hand and get +back from the edge and seat himself securely on a rock, till the rosy +face came laughing up between him and the shimmering sea, with trophy of +weed or shell or crystal quartz, and he would tell her all he knew about +them, and she would try to tell him of all he had missed by not coming +down. + +There were wonderful great basins down there, all lined with pink and +green corallines, and full of the loveliest weeds and anemones and other +sea-flowers, and the rivulets that flowed from them to the sea were +lined pink and green, too. And this that she had brought him was the +flaming sea-weed, though truly it did not look it now, but in the water +it was, she assured him, of the loveliest, and there were great bunches +there so that the dark holes under the rocks were all alight with it. + +She coaxed him doubtfully to the descent of the rounded headland facing +L'Etat, picking out an easy circuitous way for him, and so got him +safely down to her own special pool, hollowed out of the solid granite +by centuries of patient grinding on the part of the great boulders +within. + +It was there, peering down at the fishes below, that she expressed a +wish to imitate them; and he agreeing, she ran up to the farm for a bit +of rope and was back before he had half comprehended all the beauties of +the pool. And he had no sooner explained the necessary movements to her +and she had tried them, than she cast off the rope, shouting, "I can +swim! I can swim!" and to his amazement swam across the pool and back--a +good fifty feet each way--chirping with delight in this new-found +faculty and the tonic kiss of the finest water in the world. But after +all it was not so very amazing, for she was absolutely without fear, and +in that water it is difficult to sink. + +They were often down there together after that, for close alongside were +wonderful channels and basins whorled out of the rock in the most +fantastic ways, and to sit and watch the tide rush up them was a +never-failing entertainment. + +And not far away was a blow-hole of the most extraordinary which shot +its spray a hundred feet into the air, and if you didn't mind getting +wet you could sit quite alongside it, so close that you could put your +hand into it as it came rocketing out of the hole, and then, if the sun +was right, you sat in the midst of rainbows--a thing Nance had always +longed to do since she clapped her baby hands at her first one. But the +Vicar never did that. + +And once, in quest of the how and the why, Nance swam into the +blow-hole's cave at a very low tide, and its size and the dome of its +roof, compared with the narrowness of its entrance, amazed her, but she +did not stay long for it gave her the creeps. + +These were some of the ways by which little Nance grew to a larger +estate than most of her fellows, and all these things helped to make her +what she came to be. + +When she grew old enough to assist in the farm, new realms of delight +opened to her. Chickens, calves, lambs, piglets--she foster-mothered +them all and knew no weariness in all such duties which were rather +pleasures. + +It was a wounded rabbit, limping into cover under a tangle of gorse and +blackberry bashes, that discovered to her the entrance to the series of +little chambers and passages that led right through the headland to the +side looking into Port Gorey. Which most satisfactory hiding-place she +and Bernel turned to good account on many an occasion when brother Tom's +oppression passed endurance. + +It had taken time, and much screwing up of childish courage, to explore +the whole of that extraordinary little burrow, and it was not the work +of a day. + +When Nance crept along the little run made by many generations of +rabbits, she found that it led finally into a dark crack in the rock, +and, squeezing through that, she was in a small dark chamber which smelt +strongly of her friends. + +As soon as her eyes recovered from the sudden change from blazing +sunlight to almost pitch darkness, she perceived a small black opening +at the far end, and looking through it she saw a lightening of the +darkness still farther in which tempted her on. + +It was a tough scramble even for her, and the closeness of the rocks and +the loneliness weighed upon her somewhat. But there was that glimmer of +light ahead and she must know what it was, and so she climbed and +wriggled over and under the huge splintered rocks till she came to the +light, like a tiny slit of a window far above her head, and still there +were passages leading on. + +Next day, with Bernel and a tiny crasset lamp for company, she explored +the burrow to its utmost limits and adopted it at once as their refuge +and stronghold. And thereafter they spent much time there, especially in +the end chamber where a tiny slit gave on to Port Gorey, and they could +lie and watch all that went on down below. + +There they solemnly concocted plans for brother Tom's discomfiture, and +thither they retreated after defeat or victory, while he hunted high +and low for them and never could make out where they had got to. + +Then Tom went off to sea, and life, for those at home, became a joy +without a flaw--except the thought that he would sometime come +back--unless he got drowned. + +When he returned he was past the boyish bullying and teasing stage, and +his stunts and twists developed themselves along other lines. Moreover, +sailor-fashion, he wore a knife in a sheath at the back of his belt. + +He found Nance a tall slim girl of sixteen, her childish prettiness just +beginning to fashion itself into the strength and comeliness of form and +feature which distinguished her later on. + +He swore, with strange oaths, that she was the prettiest bit of goods +he'd set eyes on since he left home, and he'd seen a many. And he +wondered to himself if this could really be the Nance he used to hate +and persecute. + +But Nance detested him and all his ways as of old. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +HOW THE NEW MINE CAPTAIN CAME + + +Tom Hamon and Peter Mauger seated themselves on a rock within a few feet +of the narrow slit out of which Nance and Bernel had been looking. + +"Ouaie," said Tom, taking up his parable--"wanted me to join him in +getting a loan on farm, he did." + +"Aw, now!" + +"Ouaie--a loan on farm, and me to join him, 'cause he couldn' do it +without. 'And why?' I asked him." + +"Ah!" + +"An' he told me he was goin' to make a fortune out them silver mines." + +"Aw!" + +"Ouaie! He'd put in every pound he had and every shilling he earned. An' +the more he could put in the more he would get out." + +"Aw!" + +"'But,' I said, 'suppos'n it all goes into them big holes and never +comes out--'" + +"Aw!" + +"But he's just crazy 'bout them mines. Says there's silver an' lead, and +guyabble-knows-what-all in 'em, and when they get it out he'll be a rich +man." + +"Aw!" said Peter, nodding his head portentously, as one who had gauged +the futility of earthly riches. + +He was a young man of large possessions but very few words. When he did +allow his thoughts out they came slowly and in jerks, with lapses at +times which the hearer had to fill in as best he could. + +His father had been an enterprising free-trader, and had made money +before the family farm came to him on the death of his father. He had +married another farm and the heiress attached to it, and Peter was the +result. An only son, both parents dead, two farms and a good round sum +in the Guernsey Bank, such were Peter's circumstances. + +And himself--good-tempered; lazy, since he had no need to work; not +naturally gifted mentally, and the little he had, barely stirred by the +short course of schooling which had been deemed sufficient for so +worldly-well-endowed a boy; tall, loose-limbed, easy going and easily +led, Peter was the object of much speculation among marriageably +inclined maiden hearts, and had set his own where it was not wanted. + +"Ouaie," continued Tom, "an' if I'd join him in the loan the money'd all +come to me when he'd done with it." + +"Aw!... Money isn't everything.... Can't get all you want sometimes +when you've got all money you want." + +"G'zammin, Peter! You're as crazy 'bout that lass as th' old un is 'bout +his mines. Why don't ye ask her and ha' done with it?" + +"Aw--yes. Well.... You see.... I'm makin' up to her gradual like, and in +time----" + +And Bernel in the hole dug his elbow facetiously into Nance's side. + +"Mon Gyu! To think of a slip of a thing like our Nance making a great +big fellow like you as fool-soft as a bit of tallow!" and Tom stared at +him in amazement. "Why, I've licked her scores of times, and I used to +lift her up by the hair of her head." + +"I'd ha' knocked your head right off, Tom Hamon, if I'd been there. +Right off--yes, an' bumped it on the ground." + +"No, you wouldn't. 'Cause, in the first place, you couldn't, and in the +second place you wouldn't have looked at her then. She was no more to +look at than a bit of a rabbit, slipping about, scared-like, with her +big eyes all round her." + +"Great rough bull of a chap you was, Tom. Ought to had more lickings +when you was young." + +"Aw!" said Tom. + +"Join him?" asked Peter after a pause. + +"No, I won't, an' he's no right to ask it, an' he knows it. Them dirty +mines may pay an' they may not, but the farm's a safe thing an' I'll +stick to it." + +"Maybe new capt'n'll make things go better. That's him, I'm thinking, +just got ashore from brig without breaking his legs," nodding towards +the wooden landing-stage on the other side of the gulf. For landing at +Port Gorey was at times a matter requiring both nerve and muscle. + +A man, however, had just leaped ashore from the brig, and was now +standing looking somewhat anxiously after the landing of his baggage, +which consisted of a wooden chest and an old carpet-bag. + +When at last it stood safely on the platform, he cast a comprehensive +look at his surroundings and then turned to the group of men who had +come down to watch the boat come in, and four pairs of eyes on the +opposite side of the gulf watched him curiously, with little thought of +the tremendous part he was to play in all their lives. + +"Where's he stop?" asked Peter. + +"Our house." + +"Nay!" + +"Ouaie, I tell you. He's to stop at our house." + +"Why doesn't he go to Barracks?" + +"Old Captain's there and they might not agree. Oh ouaie, he'll have his +hands full, I'm thinking. And if he's not careful it's a crack on the +head and a drop over the Coupée he'll be getting." + +"Ah!" said Peter Mauger. + +"Come you along and see what kind of chap he is." + +"Aw well, I don't mind," and they strolled away to inspect the new Mine +Captain, who was to brace up the slackened ropes and bring the +enterprise to a successful issue. + +"Did you know he was going to stop with us, Nance?" asked Bernel, as +they groped their way out after due interval. + +"I heard father tell mother this morning." + +"Where's he to sleep?" + +"He's to have my room and I'm coming up into the loft. I shall take the +dark end, and I've put up a curtain across." + +"Shoo! We'll hear enough about the mines now," and they crept out behind +a gorse bush, and went off across the common towards the clump of +wind-whipped trees inside which the houses of Little Sark clustered for +companionship and shelter from the south-west gales. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +HOW GARD MADE NEW ACQUAINTANCES + + +Old Tom Hamon gave the new arrival warm greeting, and pointed out such +matters as might interest him as they climbed the steep road which led +up to the plateau and the houses. + +"Assay Office, Mr. Gard.... Captain's Office.... Forge.... Sark's Hope +shaft.... Le Pelley shaft--ninety fathoms below sea-level.... Pump +shaft ... and yon to east'ard is Prince's shaft.... We go round here +behind engine-house.... Yon's my house 'mong the trees." + +"That's a fine animal," said Gard, stopping suddenly to look at a great +white horse, which stood nibbling the gorse on the edge of the cliff +right in the eye of the sun, as it drooped towards Guernsey in a +holocaust of purple and amber and crimson clouds. The glow of the +threatening sky threw the great white figure into unusual prominence. + +"Yours, Mr. Hamon?" asked Gard--and the white horse flung up its head +and pealed out a trumpet-like neigh as though resenting the imputation. + +"No," said old Tom, staring at the white horse under his shading hand. +"Seigneur's. What's he doing down here? He's generally kept up at +Eperquerie, and that's the best place for him. He's an awkward beast at +times. I must send and tell Mr. Le Pelley where he is." + +The little cluster of white, thatched houses stood close together for +company, but discreetly turned their faces away from one another so that +no man overlooked or interfered with his neighbour. + +Gard found himself in a large room which occupied the whole middle +portion of the house and served as kitchen and common room for the +family. + +The floor was of trodden earth--hard and dry as cement, with a strip of +boarding round the sides and in front of the fire-place. Heavy oaken +beams ran across the roof from which depended a great hanging rack +littered with all kinds of household odds and ends. Along the beams of +the roof on hooks hung two long guns. One end of the room was occupied +by a huge fire-place, in one corner of which stood a new iron cooking +range, and alongside it a heap of white ashes and some smouldering +sticks of gorse under a big black iron pot filled the room with the +fragrance of wood smoke. In the opposite side of the fire-place was an +iron door closing the great baking oven, and above it ran a wide +mantel-shelf on which stood china dogs and glass rolling-pins and a +couple of lamps. + +A well-scrubbed white wooden table was set ready for supper. On a very +ancient-looking black oak stand--cupboard below and shelves above--was +ranged a vast assortment of crockery ware, and on the walls hung +potbellied metal jugs and cans which shone like silver. + +Two doors led to the other rooms of the house, one of them wide open. + +One corner of the room was occupied by a great wooden bin eight feet +square, filled with dried bracken. On the wide flat side, which looked +like a form, a woman and a girl were sitting when the two men entered. + +Hamon introduced them briefly as his wife and daughter, and, comely +women as Gard had been accustomed to in his own country of Cornwall, +there was something about these two, and especially about the younger of +the two, which made him of a sudden more than satisfied with the +somewhat doubtful venture to which he had bound himself--set a sudden +homely warmth in his heart, and made him feel the richer for being +there--made him, in fact, glad that he had come. + +And yet there was nothing in their reception of him that justified the +feeling. + +They nodded, indeed, in answer to his bow, but neither their faces nor +their manner showed any special joy at his coming. + +But that made no difference to him. They were there, and the mere sight +of the girl's fine mobile face and large dark blue eyes was a thing to +be grateful for. + +"You'll be wanting your supper," said Hamon. + +"At your own time, please," said the young man, looking towards Mrs. +Hamon. "I am really not very hungry"--though truth to tell he well might +have been, for the food on the brig had left much to be desired even to +one who had been a sailorman himself. + +"It is our usual time," said Mrs. Hamon, "and it is all ready. Will you +please to sit there." + +At the sound of the chairs a boy of fourteen came quietly in and slipped +into his seat. + +His sister had gone off with a portion on a plate through the open door. + +Gard was surprised to find himself hoping it was not her custom to take +her meals in private, and was relieved when she came back presently +without the plate and sat down by her brother. + +"Ah, you, Bernel, as soon as you've done your supper run over and tell +Mr. Le Pelley that his white stallion is on our common, and he'd better +send for him." + +"I'll ride him home," said the boy exultingly. + +"No you won't, Bern," said his sister quickly. "He's not safe. You know +what an awkward beast he is at times, and you could never get him across +the Coupée." + +"Pooh! I'd ride him across any day." + +"Promise me you won't," she said, with a hand on his arm. + +"Oh, well, if you say so," he grumbled. "I could manage him all right +though." + +Just then the doorway darkened and two young men entered, and threw +their caps on the green bed, and sat down with an awkward nod of +greeting to the company in general. + +"My son Tom," said Mr. Hamon, and Tom jerked another awkward nod towards +the stranger. "And Peter Mauger"--Peter repeated the performance, more +shyly and awkwardly even than Tom, from a variety of reasons. + +Tom was at home, and he had not even been invited--except by Tom. And +strangers always made him shy. And then there was Nance, with her great +eyes fixed on him, he knew, though he had not dared to look straight at +her. + +And then the stranger had an air about him--it was hard to say of what, +but it made Peter Mauger and Tom conscious of personal uncouthness, and +of a desire to get up and go out and wash their hands and have a shave. + +Gard, they knew, was the new captain of the mine, chosen by the +managers of the company for his experience with men, and he looked as if +he had been accustomed to order them about. + +His eyes were dark and keen, his face full of energy. Being clean-shaven +his age was doubtful. He might be twenty-five or forty. Nance, in her +first quick comprehensive glance, had wondered which. + +He stood close upon six feet and was broad-chested and +square-shouldered. A good figure of a man, clean and upstanding, and +with no nonsense about him. A capable-looking man in every respect, and +if his manner was quiet and retiring, there was that about him which +suggested the possibility of explosion if occasion arose. + +Not that the Hamon family as a whole, or any member of it, would have +put the matter quite in that way to itself, or herself. But that, +vaguely, was the impression produced upon them--an impression of +uprightness, intelligence, and reserved strength--and the more strongly, +perhaps, because of late these characteristics had been somewhat +overshadowed in the Island by the greed of gain and love of display +engendered by the opening of the mines. + +To old Tom Hamon his coming was wholly welcome. It foreshadowed a strong +and more energetic development of the mines and the speedier realization +of his most earnest desires. + +To Mrs. Hamon it meant some extra household work, which she would gladly +undertake since it was her husband's wish to have the stranger live with +them, though in his absorption by the mines she had no sympathy +whatever. + +Nance looked upon him merely as a part of the mines, and therefore to +be detested along with the noisy engine-house, the pumps, the damp and +dirty miners, and all the rest of it--the coming of which had so +completely spoiled her much-loved Sark. + +Tom disliked him because he made him feel small and boorish, and of a +commoner make. And feelings such as that inevitably try to disprove +themselves by noisy self-assertion. + +Accordingly Tom--after various jocular remarks in patois to Peter, who +would have laughed at them had he dared, but, knowing Nance's feelings +towards her brother was not sure how she would take it--loudly and +provocatively to Gard-- + +"Expect to make them mines pay, monsieur?" + +"Well, I hope so. But it's too soon to express an opinion till I've seen +them." + +"They put a lot of money in, and they get a lot of dirt out, but one +does not hear much of any silver." + +"Sometimes the deepest mines prove the best in the end." + +"And as long as there's anybody to pay for it I suppose you go on +digging." + +"If I thought the mines had petered out--" + +"Eh?" said Peter, and then coughed to hide his confusion when they all +looked at him. + +"I should of course advise the owners to stop work and sink no more +money." + +"It'll be a bad day for Sark when that happens," said old Tom. "But it's +not going to happen. The silver's there all right. It only wants getting +out." + +"If it's there we'll certainly get it out," said Gard, and although he +said it quietly enough, old Tom felt much better about things in +general. + +"You're the man for us," he said heartily. "We'll all be rich before we +die yet." + +"Depends when we die," growled Tom--in which observation--obvious as it +was--there was undoubtedly much truth. And then, his little suggestion +of provocation having broken like ripples on Gard's imperturbability, he +turned on Peter and tried to stir him up. + +"You don't get on any too fast with your making up to la garche, mon +gars," he said in the patois again. + +"Aw--Tom!" remonstrated Peter, very red in the face at this ruthless +laying bare of his approaches. + +"Get ahead, man! Put your arm round her neck and give her a kiss. That's +the way to fetch 'em." + +At which Nance jumped up with fiery face and sparks in her eyes and left +the room, and Gard, who understood no word of what had passed, yet +understood without possibility of doubt that Tom's speech had been +mortally offensive to his sister, and set him down in his own mind as of +low esteem and boorish disposition. + +As for Peter, to whom such advice was as useless as the act would have +been impossible at that stage of the proceedings, he was almost as much +upset as Nance herself. He got up with a shamefaced-- + +"Aw, Tom, boy, that was not good of you," and made for his hat, while +Tom sat with a broad grin at the result of his delicate diplomacy, and +Gard's great regret was that it was not possible for him to take the +hulking fellow by the neck and bundle him out of doors. + +Old Tom made some sharp remark to his son, who replied in kind; Mrs. +Hamon sat quietly aloof, as she always did when Tom and his father got +to words, and Bernel made play with his supper, as though such matters +were of too common occurrence to call for any special attention on his +part. + +Then Nance's face framed in a black sun-bonnet gleamed in at the outer +door. + +"Come along, Bern, and we'll go and tell the Seigneur where his white +horse is," and she disappeared, and Bernel, having polished off +everything within reach, got up and followed her. + +"Will you please to take a look at the mines to-night?" asked old Tom of +his guest, anxious to interest him in the work as speedily as possible. + +"We might take a bit of a walk, and you can tell me all you will about +things. But I don't take hold till the first of the month, and I don't +want to interfere until I have a right to. I suppose my baggage will be +coming up?" + +"Ach, yes! Tom, you take the cart and bring Mr. Gard's things up. They +are lying on the quay down there. Then we will go along, if you please!" + +Old Tom marched him through the wonderful amber twilight to the summit +of the bluff behind the engine-house--whence Gard could just make out +his box and carpet-bag still lying on the quay below. And all the way +the old man was volubly explaining the many changes necessary, in his +opinion, to bring the business to a paying basis. All which information +Gard accepted for testing purposes, but gathered from the total the fact +that through ill health on the part of the departing captain, the ropes +all round had got slack and that the tightening of them would be a +matter of no little delicacy and difficulty. + +Sark men, Mr. Hamon explained, were very free and independent, and hated +to be driven. They did piecework--so much per fathom, and were +constitutionally, he admitted, a bit more particular as to the so much +than as to the fathom. While the Cornish and Welsh men, receiving weekly +wages, had also grown slack and did far less work than they did at first +and than they might, could, and should do. + +"But," said old Tom frankly, scratching his head, "I don't know's I'd +like the job myself. Your men are quiet enough to look at, but they can +boil over when they're put to it. And our men--well, they're Sark, and +there's more'n a bit of the devil in them." + +"I must get things round bit by bit," said Gard quietly. "It never pays +to make a fuss and bustle men. Softly does it." + +"I'm thinking you can do it if any man can." + +"I'll have a good try any way." + +"Whereabouts does the Seigneur live?" he asked presently, and +inconsequently as it seemed, but following out a train of thought of his +own which needed no guessing at. + +"The Seigneur? Over there in Sark--across the Coupée." + +"What's the Coupée?" + +"The Coupée?--Mon Gyu!"--at such colossal ignorance--"Why, ...the +Coupée's the Coupée.... Come along, then. Maybe you can get a look at it +before it's too dark." + +They had got quite out of sound of the clanking engine, and were +travelling a well-made road, when their attention was drawn to a lively +struggle proceeding on the common between the road and the cliff. + +Tom, setting out after the troubled Peter, had caught sight of the +Seigneur's white horse and had forthwith decided to take him home. +Peter, agreeing that it was a piece of neighbourliness which the +Seigneur would appreciate, had turned back to give his assistance. + +By some cajolery they had managed to slip a halter with a special length +of rope over the wary white head, and there for the moment matters hung. +For the white horse, with his forelegs firmly planted, dragged at one +end of the rope and the two men at the other, and the issue remained in +doubt. + +The doubt, however, was suddenly solved by the white horse deciding on +more active measures. He swung his great head to one side, dragged the +men off their feet and started off at a gallop, they hanging on as best +they could. + +Old Tom and Gard set off after them to see the end of the matter, and +suddenly, as the roadway dipped between high banks and became a hollow +way, the white beast gave a shrill squeal, flung up his heels, jerked +himself free, and vanished like a streak of light into the darkness of +the lofty bank in front. + +"Mon Gyu!" cried old Tom, and sped up the bank to see the end. + +But the white horse knew his way and had no fear. They were just in time +to hear the rattle of his hoofs, as he disappeared with a final shrill +defiance into the outer darkness on the further side of a mighty gulf, +while a stone dislodged by his flying feet went clattering down into +invisible depths. + +"He's done it," panted old Tom, while Gard gazed with something like awe +at the narrow pathway, wavering across from side to side of the great +abyss, out of which rose the growl of the sea. + +"What's this?" he asked. + +"Coupée. It's a wonder he managed it. The path slipped in the winter +and it's narrow in places." + +"And do people cross it in the dark?" asked Gard, thinking of the girl +and boy who had gone to see the Seigneur. + +"Och yes! It is not bad when you're used to it. Come and see!" and he +led the way back across the common to the road. + +Gard walked cautiously behind him as he went across the crumbling white +pathway with the carelessness of custom, and, sailor as he had been, he +was not sorry when the other side was reached, and he could stand in the +security of the cutting and look back, and down into the gulf where the +white waves foamed and growled among the boulders three hundred feet +below. + +"I've seen a many as did not care to cross that, first time they saw +it," said old Tom with a chuckle. + +"Well, I'm not surprised at that. It's apt to make one's head spin." + +"I brought captain of brig up here and he wouldn't put a foot on it. Not +for five hundred pounds, he said." + +"It would have taken more than five hundred pounds to piece him together +if he'd tumbled down there." + +"That's so." + +A young moon, and a clear sky still rarely light and lofty in the amber +after-glow, gave them a safe passage back. + +When they reached the house among the trees, Gard bethought him of his +belongings. + +"And my things from the quay?" he suggested. + +"G'zammin! That boy has forgotten all about them, I'll be bound. I'll +take the cart down myself." + +"I'll go with you." + +When they got back with the box and bag, which no one had touched since +they were dropped on to the platform four hours before, they found that +Nance and Bernel had got home and gone off to bed, having taken +advantage of being across in Sark to call on some of their friends +there. + +Gard wondered how they would have fared if they had happened to be on +the Coupée when the white horse went thundering across. + +He dreamed that night that he was cautiously treading an endless white +path that swung up and down in the darkness like a piece of ribbon in a +breeze. And a great white horse came plunging at him out of the +darkness, and just as he gave himself up for lost, a sweet firm face in +a black sun-bonnet appeared suddenly in front of him, and the white +horse squealed and leaped over them and disappeared, while the stones he +had displaced went rattling down into the depths below. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +HOW NANCE SHONE THROUGH HER MODEST VEILING + + +As soon as the old captain's time was up, Gard took up his work in the +mines with energetic hopefulness. + +His hopefulness was unbounded. His energy he tempered with all the tact +and discretion his knowledge of men, and his experience in handling +them, had taught him. + +His father had been lost at sea the year after his son was born. His +mother, a good and God-fearing woman, had strained every nerve to give +her boy an education. She died when Stephen was fourteen. He took to his +father's calling and had followed it with a certain success for ten +years, by which time he had attained the position of first mate. + +Then the owner of the Botallack Mine, in Cornwall, having come across +him in the way of business, and been struck by his intelligence and +aptitude, induced him by a lucrative appointment to try his luck on +land. + +The managers of the Sark Mines, seeking a special man for somewhat +special circumstances, had applied to Botallack for assistance, and +Stephen Gard came to Sark as the representative of many hopes which, so +far, had been somewhat lacking in results. + +But, as old Tom Hamon had predicted, he very soon found that he had laid +his hand to no easy plough. + +The Sark men were characteristically difficult, and made the difficulty +greater by not understanding him--or declining to understand, which came +to the same thing--when he laid down his ideas and endeavoured to bring +them to his ways. + +Some, without doubt, had no English, and their patois was quite beyond +him. Others could understand him an they would, but deliberately chose +not to--partly from a conservative objection to any change whatever, and +partly from an idea that he had been imported for the purpose of driving +them, and driving is the last thing a Sark man will submit to. + +Old Tom Hamon, and a few others who had a financial interest in the +mines, assisted him all they could, in hopes of thereby assisting +themselves, but they were few. + +As for the Cornishmen and Welshmen, the success or failure of the Sark +Mines mattered little to them. There was always mining going on +somewhere and competent men were always in demand. They were paid so +much a week, small output or large, and without a doubt the small output +entailed less labour than the large. They naturally regarded with no +great favour the man whose present aim in life it was to ensure the +largest output possible. + +And so Gard found himself confronted by many difficulties, and, +moreover, and greatly to the troubling of his mind, found himself looked +upon as a dictator and an interloper by the men whom he had hoped to +benefit. + +Concerning the mines themselves he was not called upon for an opinion. +The managers had satisfied themselves as to the presence of silver. If +his opinion had been asked it would have confirmed them. But all he had +to do was to follow the veins and win the ore in paying quantities, and +he found himself handicapped on every hand by the obstinacy of his men. + +Outside business matters he was very well satisfied with his +surroundings. + +In such spare time as he had, he wandered over the Island with eager, +open eyes, marvelling at its wonders and enjoying its natural beauties +with rare delight. + +The great granite cliffs, with their deep indentations and stimulating +caves and crannies; the shimmering blue and green sea, with its long +slow heave which rushed in foam and tumult up the rock-pools and +gullies; the softer beauties of rounded down and flower-and fern-clad +slopes honeycombed with rabbit holes; the little sea-gardens teeming +with novel life; in all these he found his resource and a certain +consolation for his loneliness. + +And in the Hamon household he found much to interest him and not a +little ground for speculation. + +Old Mrs. Hamon--Grannie--had promptly ordered him in for inspection, +and, after prolonged and careful observation from the interior of the +black sun-bonnet, had been understood to approve him, since she said +nothing to the contrary. + +It took him some time to arrive at the correct relationship between +young Tom and Nance and Bernel, for it seemed quite incredible that +fruit so diverse should spring from one parent stem. + +For Tom was all that was rough and boorish--rude to Mrs. Hamon, coarse, +and at times overbearing to Nance and Bernel, to such an extent, indeed, +that more than once Gard had difficulty in remembering that he himself +was only a visitor on sufferance and not entitled to interfere in such +intimate family matters. + +Tom was not slow to perceive this, and in consequence set himself +deliberately to provoke it by behaviour even more outrageous than usual. +Time and again Gard would have rejoiced to take him outside and express +his feelings to their fullest satisfaction. + +With Mrs. Hamon and Bernel he was on the most friendly footing, his +undisguised sentiments in the matter of Tom commending him to them +decisively. + +But with Nance he made no headway whatever. + +It was an absolutely new sensation to him, and a satisfaction the +meaning of which he had not yet fully gauged, to be living under the +same roof with a girl such as this. He found himself listening for her +voice outside and the sound of her feet, and learned almost at once to +distinguish between the clatter of her wooden pattens and any one else's +when she was busy in the yard or barns. + +Even though she held him at coolest arm's length, and repelled any +slightest attempt at abridgment of the distance, he still rejoiced in +the sight of her and found the world good because of her presence in it. + +He did not understand her feeling about him in the least. He did not +know that she had had to give up her room for him--that she detested the +mines and everything tainted by them, and himself as head and forefront +of the offence--that she regarded him as an outsider and a foreigner and +therefore quite out of place in Sark. He only knew that he saw very +little of her and would have liked to see a great deal more. + +The very reserve of her treatment of himself--one might even say her +passive endurance of him--served but to stimulate within him the wish to +overcome it. The attraction of indifference is a distinct force in life. + +There was something so trim and neat and altogether captivating to him +in the slim energetic figure, in its short blue skirts and print jacket, +as it whisked to and fro, inside and out, on its multifarious duties, +and still more in the sweet, serious face, glimmering coyly in the +shadow of the great sun-bonnet and always moulded to a fine, but, as it +seemed to him, a somewhat unnatural gravity in his company. + +And yet he was quite sure she could be very much otherwise when she +would. For he had heard her singing over her work, and laughing merrily +with Bernel; and her face, sweet as it was in its repression, seemed to +him more fitted for smiles and laughter and joyousness. + +He saw, of course, that brother Tom was a constant source of annoyance +to them all, but especially to her, and his blood boiled impotently on +her account. + +He carried with him--as a delightful memory of her, though not without +its cloud--the pretty picture she made when he came upon her one day in +the orchard, milking--for, strictly as the Sabbath may be observed, cows +must still be milked on a Sunday, not being endowed manna-like, with the +gift of miraculous double production on a Saturday. + +Her head was pressed into her favourite beast's side, and she was +crooning soothingly to it as the white jets ping-panged into the +frothing pail, and he stood for a moment watching her unseen. + +Then the cow slowly turned her head towards him, considered him gravely +for a moment, decided he was unnecessary and whisked her tail +impatiently. Nance's lullaby stopped, she looked round with a reproving +frown, and he went silently on his way. + +It was another Sunday afternoon that, as he lay in the bracken on the +slope of a headland, he saw two slim figures racing down a bare slope on +the opposite side of a wide blue gulf, with joyous chatter, and +recognized Nance and Bernel. + +They disappeared and he felt lonely. Then they came picking their way +round a black spur below, and stood for a minute or two looking down at +something beneath them. Which something he presently discovered must be +a pool of size among the rocks, for after a brief retiral, Nance behind +a boulder and Bernel into a black hollow, they came out again, she +lightly clad in fluttering white and Bernel in nothing at all, and with +a shout of delight dived out of sight into the pool below. + +He could hear their shouts and laughter echoed back by the huge +overhanging rocks. He saw them climb out again and sit sunning +themselves on the grey ledge like a pair of sea-birds, and Nance's +exiguous white garment no longer fluttered in the breeze. + +Then in they went again, and again, and again, till, tiring of the +limits of the pool--huge as he afterwards found it to be--they crept +over the barnacled rocks to the sea, and flung themselves fearlessly in, +and came ploughing through it towards his headland. And he shrank still +lower among the bracken, for though he had watched the distant little +figure in white with a slight sense of sacrilege, and absolutely no +sense of impropriety but only of enjoyment, he would not for all he was +worth have had her know that he had watched at all, since he could +imagine how she would resent it. + +Nevertheless, these unconscious revelations of her real self were to him +as jewels of price, and he treasured the memory of them accordingly. + +He watched them swim back and disappear among the rocks, and presently +go merrily up the bare slope again; and he lay long in the bracken, +scarce daring to move, and when he did, he crept away warily, as one +guilty of a trespass. + +And glad he was that he had done so, for he had proof of her feeling +that same night at supper. + +Peter Mauger came sheepishly in again with Tom, and Tom, when he had +satisfied the edge of his hunger, must wax facetious in his brotherly +way. + +"Peter and me was sitting among the rocks over against big pool +s'afternoon and we saw things"--with a grin. + +"Aw, Tom!" deprecated Peter in red confusion. + +"An' Peter, he said he never seen anything so pretty in all his life +as--" + +"Aw now, Tom, you're a liar! I never said anything about it." + +"You thought it, or your face was liar too, my boy. Like a dog after a +rabbit it was." + +"It was just like you both to lie watching," flamed Nance. "If you'd +both go and jump into the sea every day you'd be a great deal nicer than +you are; and if you'd stop there it would be a great deal nicer for us." + +"Aw--Nance!" from Peter, and a great guffaw from Tom, while Gard devoted +himself guiltily to his plate. + +"You looked nice before you went in," chuckled Tom, who never knew when +to stop, "but you looked a sight nicer when you came out and sat on +rocks with it all stuck to you--" + +"You're a--a--a disgusting thing, Tom Hamon, and you're just as bad, +Peter Mauger!" and she looked as if she would have flown at them, but, +instead, jumped up and flung out of the room. + +Gard's innate honesty would not permit him to take up the cudgels this +time. Inwardly he felt himself involved in her condemnation, though none +but himself knew it. + +But he had taken at times to glowering at Tom, when his rudeness passed +bounds, in a way which made that young man at once uncomfortable and +angry, and at times provoked him to clownish attempts at reprisal. + +Mrs. Hamon bore with the black sheep quietly, since nothing else was +possible to her, though her annoyance and distress were visible enough. + +Old Tom was completely obsessed with his visions of wealth ever just +beyond the point of his pick. He toiled long hours in the damp +darknesses below seas, with the sounds of crashing waves and rolling +boulders close above him, and at times threateningly audible through the +stratum of rocks between; and when he did appear at meals he was too +weary to trouble about anything beyond the immediate satisfaction of his +needs. Besides, young Tom had long since proved his strength equal to +his father's, and remonstrance or rebuke would have produced no effect. + +As to Bernel, he was only a boy as yet, but he was Nance's boy and all +she would have wished him. + +In time he would grow up and be a match for Tom, and meanwhile she would +see to it that he grew up as different from Tom in every respect as it +was possible for a boy to be. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +HOW GRANNIE SCHEMED SCHEMES + + +Stephen Gard's experience of women had been small. + +His mother had been everything to him till she died, when he was +fourteen, and he went to sea. + +When she was gone, that which she had put into him remained, and kept +him clear of many of the snares to which the life of the young sailorman +is peculiarly liable. + +When he attained a position of responsibility he had had no time for +anything else. And so, of his own experience, he knew little of women +and their ways. + +Less, indeed, than Nance knew of men and their ways. And that was not +very much and tended chiefly to scorn and dissatisfaction, seeing that +her knowledge was gleaned almost entirely from her experiences of Tom +and Peter Mauger. Her father was, of course, her father, and on somewhat +of a different plane from other men. + +And so, if Nance was a wonder and a revelation to Gard, Gard was no less +of, at all events, a novelty in the way of mankind to Nance. + +His quiet bearing and good manners, after a life-long course of Tom, had +a distinct attraction for her. + +That he could burst into flame if occasion required, she was convinced. +For, more than once, out of the corner of her eye and round the edge of +her sun-bonnet, she had caught his thunderous looks of disgust at some +of Tom's carryings-on. + +She would, perhaps, have been ashamed to confess it but, somewhere down +in her heart, she rather hoped, sooner or later, to see his lightning as +well. It would be worth seeing, and she was inclined to think it would +be good for Tom--and the rest of the family. + +For Gard looked as if he could give a good account of himself in case of +need. His well-built, tight-knit figure gave one the impression that he +was even stronger than he looked. + +If only he had been a Sark man and had nothing to do with those horrid +mines! But all her greatest dislikes met in him, and she could not bring +herself to the point of relaxing one iota in these matters of which he +was unfortunately and unconsciously guilty. + +The state of affairs at the mines improved not one whit as the months +dragged on. There was a smouldering core of discontent which might break +into flame at any moment--or into disastrous explosion if the necessary +element were added. + +Old Tom did his best, and stood loyally by the new captain and the +interests of the mine and himself. But he was in a minority and could so +far do no more than oppose vehement talk to vehement talk, and that, as +a rule, is much like pouring oil on roaring flames. + +Not many of those who were shareholders in the mine were also workers in +it, and the workers met constantly at the house of a neighbour, who had +turned his kitchen to an undomestic but profitable purpose by supplying +drink to the miners at what seemed to the English and Welshmen +ridiculously low prices. + +In that kitchen the new captain and his new methods were vehemently +discussed and handled roughly enough--in words. And hot words and the +thoughts they excite, and wild thoughts and the words they find vent in, +are at times the breeders of deeds that were better left undone. + +To all financially interested in the mines the need for strictest +economy and fullest efficiency was patent enough. It was still a case of +faith and hope--a case of continual putting in of work and money, and, +so far, of getting little out--except the dross which intervened between +them and their highest hopes. + +There was silver there without a doubt, and the many thin veins they +came across lured them on with constant hope of mighty pockets and +deposits of which these were but the flying indications. + +And all putting in and getting nothing out results in stressful times, +in business ventures as in the case of individuals. The great shafts +sank deeper and deeper, the galleries branched out far under the sea, +and there was a constant call for more and more money, lest that already +sunk should be lost. + +Mr. Hamon, disappointed in his view of raising money on the farm by +Tom's obstinacy, in the bitterness of his spirit and the urgent +necessities of the mines, conceived a new idea which, if he was able to +carry it out, would serve the double purpose of satisfying his own needs +at the recalcitrant Tom's expense. + +"I must have more money for the mines," he said to his wife one day in +private. "I'm thinking of selling the farm." + +"Selling the farm?" gasped Mrs. Hamon, doubtful of her own hearing. For +selling the farm is the very last resource of the utterly unfortunate. +"Aye, selling the farm. Why not? It'll all come back twenty times over +when we strike the pockets, and then we can live where we will, or we +can go across to Guernsey, or to England if you like." + +But Mrs. Hamon was silent and full of thought. She had no desire for +wealth, and still less to live in Guernsey or in England, or anywhere in +the world but Sark. + +He had been a good husband to her on the whole, until this silver craze +absorbed him. She had never found it necessary to counter his wishes +before. But this idea of selling the farm cut to the very roots of her +life. + +For Nance's sake and Bernel's she must oppose it with all that was in +her. If the farm were sold the money would all go into those gaping +black mouths and bottomless pits at Port Gorey. The home would be broken +up--an end of all things. It must not be. + +"I should think many times before selling the farm if I were you," she +said quietly, and left it there for the moment. + +But old Tom, having made up his mind, and the necessities of the case +pressing, lost no time over the matter. + +"I've been speaking to John Guille about that business," he said, next +day, in a confidently casual way. + +"About--?" + +"About the farm. He'll give me six hundred pounds for it and take the +stock at what it's worth, and he's willing we should stop on as tenants +at fifty pounds a year rent." + +His wife was ominously silent. He glanced at her doubtfully. + +"I shall stop on as tenant for the present and Tom can go on working +it. When we reach the silver, and the money begins to come back, we can +decide what to do afterwards." + +Still his wife said nothing, but her face was white and set. It was hard +for her to put herself in opposition to him, but here she found it +necessary. He was going too far. + +It was only when the silence had grown ominous and painful, that she +said, slowly and with difficulty-- + +"I'm sorry to look like going against you, Tom, but I can't see it right +you should sell the farm." + +"It'll make no difference to you and the young ones. I'll see to that." + +"It's not right and you mustn't do it." + +"Mustn't do it!--And it's as good as done!" + +"It can't be done until your mother and I consent, and we can't see it's +a right thing to do." + +"Can't you see that you're only saving the farm for Tom?" he argued +wrathfully, bottling his anger as well as he could. "It's nothing to you +and the young ones in any case." + +"I know, but all the same it's not right. If it was to buy another farm +it would be different, for you could leave it as you choose. But to +throw away the money on those mines--" + +This was a lapse from diplomacy and old Tom resented it. + +"Throw the money away!" he shouted, casting all restraint to the winds. +"Who's going to throw the money away? It's like you women. You never can +see beyond the ends of your noses. I'll tell you what I'll do--I'll pay +you out your dower right in hard cash. Will that satisfy you?" + +If he died she would have a life interest in one-third of the farm, but +could not, of course, will it to Nance or Bernel. If he sold the farm +and paid her her lawful third in cash, she could do what she chose with +it. It was therefore distinctly to her own interest to fall in with his +plan. + +But, dearly as she would have liked to make some provision, however +small, for Nance and Bernel, her whole Sark soul was up in arms against +the idea of selling the farm. + +It would feel like a break-up of life. Nothing, she was sure, would ever +be the same again. + +"It's not right," she said simply. + +"You're a fool--" and then the look on her quiet face--such a look as +she might have worn if he had struck her--penetrated the storm-cloud of +his anger. He remembered her years of wifely patience and faithful +service, "--a foolish woman. A Sark wife should know which side of her +bread the butter is on. Can't you see--" + +"I know all that, Tom, but I hope you'll give up this notion of selling +the farm. Your mother feels just as I do about it. We've talked it +over--" + +"I'll talk to her," and he went in at once to the old lady's room. + +But Grannie gave him no time for argument. + +"It's you's the fool, Tom," she said decisively, as he crossed the +threshold. "There's not enough silver in Sark to make a plate for your +coffin." + +"I brought out more'n enough to make your plate and mine, myself +to-day," he said triumphantly. + +"Ah, bah! You'd have done better for yourself and for Sark if you'd let +it lie." + +"I'd have done better still if I'd got twice as much." + +"If the good God set silver inside Sark, it was because He thought it +was the best place for it, and it's not for the likes of you to be +trying to get it out." + +"What's it there for if it's not to be got out?" + +"You mark me, Tom Hamon, no good will come of all this upsetting and +digging out the insides of the Island--nenni-gia!" + +"Pergui, mother, where do you think all the silver and gold in the world +came from?" + +"It didn't come out of our Sark rocks any way, mon gars." + +"Good thing for us if it had, ma fé! But, see you here, mother, if I +sell the farm it's not you and Nance that need trouble. If I pay out +your dowers in hard cash you're both of you better off than you are now, +and I'm better off too. It's only Tom could complain, and--" + +"It's hard on the lad." + +"Bidemme, it's no more than he deserves for his goings-on! Maybe it'll +do him good to have to work for his living." + +"And you would do that to get your bit more money to throw into those +big holes?" + +"Never you mind me. I'll take care of myself, and we'll see who's wisest +in the end. Now, will you agree to it?" + +"I'll talk it over with Nancy again," and the big black sun-bonnet +nodded with sapient significance. "Send her to me." + +"It's from you I got my good sense," said old Tom approvingly, and went +off in search of his wife, while the clever old lady pondered deep +schemes. + +"Here's the way of it, Nancy," she said, when Mrs. Hamon came in. "He's +crazy on these silver mines, and he's willing to pay out our dowers, +yours and mine, so that he may throw the rest into the big holes at Port +Gorey. Ch'est b'en! Your money and mine take more than half of what he +gets. If you'll put yours to mine I'll make up the difference from what +I've saved, and we'll retraite the farm, and it shall go to Nance and +Bernel when the time comes." + +"I can't help thinking it's rather hard on Tom," suggested Mrs. Hamon, +with less vigour than before. + +The idea appealed strongly to her maternal feelings and she had suffered +much from Tom; still her instinct for right was there and was not to be +stifled with a word. + +"If you feel so when the time comes we could divide it among them, and +till then Tom would have to behave himself," said the wily old lady, +with a chuckle. + +That again appealed strongly to Mrs. Hamon. + +"Yes, I think I would agree to that," she said, after thinking it all +over. + +All things considered, Grannie's scheme was an excellent one and worthy +of her. + +By a curious anomaly of Sark law, though a man may not mortgage his +property without the consent of his next-in-succession, he can sell it +outright and do what he chooses with the proceeds. His wife has a dower +right of one-third of both real and personal estate, into which she +enters upon his death. The right, however, is there while he still +lives, and must be taken into consideration in any sale of the property. + +All property is sold subject to the "retraite"; in plain English, no +sale is completed for six weeks, and within that time every member of +the seller's family, in due order of succession, even to the collateral +branches, has the right to take over, or withdraw, the property at the +same price as has been agreed upon, paying in addition to the Seigneur +the trézième or thirteenth part of the price, as by law provided. + +If Grannie's scheme were carried out, therefore, she and Mrs. Hamon +would become owners of the farm. Tom would be there on sufferance and +might be kept within bounds or kicked out. Old Tom would have something +more to throw into the holes at Port Gorey. And Nance and Bernel could +be adequately provided for. An excellent scheme, therefore, for all +concerned--except young Tom, who would have to behave himself better +than he was in the habit of doing or suffer the consequences. + +"Yes," said Nancy. "I don't see that I'd be doing right by Nance and +Bernel not to agree to that. And if Tom behaves himself," at which +Grannie grunted doubtfully, "he can have his share when the time comes." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +HOW GARD FOUGHT GALES AND TOM + + +So far the discussion as to the sale of the farm had been confined to +the elders. + +Young Tom had viewed John Guille's visits to the place with the lowering +suspicion of a bull at a stranger's invasion of his field. He wondered +what was going on and surmised that it was nothing to his advantage. + +Words had been rare between him and his father since his refusal to lend +himself to a loan on the farm, but his suspicion got the better of his +obstinacy at last. + +"What's John Guille want coming about here so much?" he demanded +bluntly. + +"I suppose he can come if he wants to. He's going to buy the farm." + +"Going--to--buy--the--farm!... You--going--to--sell--the--farm--away-- +from--me?" roared young Tom, like the bull wounded to the quick. + +"Ouaie, pardi! And why not? You had the chance of saving it and you +wouldn't." + +"If you do it, I'll--" + +"Ouaie! You'll--" + +"I'll--Go'zammin, I'll--I'll--" + +"Unless you're a fool, mon gars, you'll be careful what you say or do. +It'll all come back from the mines and you'll have your share if you +behave yourself." + +"---- you and your mines!" was Tom's valedictory, and he flung away in +mortal anger; anger, too, which, from a Sark point of view, was by no +means unjustified. Selling the estate away from the rightful heir was +disinheritance, a blow below the belt which most testators reserve until +they are safe from reach of bodily harm. + +Tom left the house and cut all connection with his family. He drifted +away like a threatening cloud, and the sun shone out, and Stephen Gard, +with the rest, found greater comfort in his room than they had ever +found in his company. + +So gracious, indeed, did the atmosphere of the house become, purged of +Tom, that Gard, to his great joy, found even Nance not impossible of +approach. + +He had always treated her with extremest deference and courtesy, +respecting, as far as he was able, her evident wish for nothing but the +most distant intercourse. + +But he was such a very great change from Tom! + +She caught his dark eyes fixed on her at times with a look that reminded +her of Helier Baker's black spaniel's, who was a very close friend of +hers. They had neither dog nor cat at present at La Closerie, both +having been scrimped by the silver mines, when old Tom's first bad +attack of economy came on. + +Then, at table, Gard was always quietly on the look-out to anticipate +her wants. That was a refreshing novelty. Even Bernel, her special +crony, thought only of his own requirements when food stood before him. + +Now and again Gard began to venture on a question direct to her, +generally concerning some bit of the coast he had been scrambling about, +and she found it rather pleasant to be able to give information about +things he did not know to this undoubtedly clever mine captain. + +So, little by little, he grew into her barest toleration but apparently +nothing more, and was puzzled at her aloofness and reserve, not +understanding at all her bitter feeling against the mines and everything +connected with them. + +The first time he went to church with her and Bernel was a great +white-stone day to him. + +He had gone by himself once every Sunday, and done his best to follow +the service in French, which he was endeavouring to pick up as best he +could. And, if he could only now and again come across a word he +understood, still the being in church and worshipping with others--even +though it was in an unknown tongue--the sound of the chants and hymns +and responses, and the mild austerity and reverent intonation of the +good old Vicar, all induced a Sabbath feeling in him, and made a welcome +change from the rougher routine of the week, which he would have missed +most sorely. + +On that special afternoon, he had been lying on the green wall of the +old French fort, enjoying that most wonderful view over the shimmering +blue sea, with Herm and Jethou resting on it like great green velvet +cushions, and Guernsey gleaming softly in the distance, and Brecqhou and +the Gouliot Head, and all the black outlying rocks fringed with creamy +foam, till it should be time to go along to church. + +When he heard voices in the road below and saw Nance and Bernel, he +jumped up on the spur of the moment, and pushed through the gorse and +bracken, and stood waiting for them. + +"Will you let me join you?" he asked, as they came up, fallen shyly +silent. + +"We don't mind," said Bernel, and they went along together. + +"This always strikes me afresh, each time I see it, as one of the most +extraordinary places I've come across," said Gard, as they dipped down +towards the Coupée. + +"Wait till we're coming home," said Bernel hopefully. + +"Why?" + +"You see those clouds over there? That's wind--sou'-west--you'll see +what it's like after church." + +"Your gales are as extraordinary as all the rest--and your tides and +currents and sea-mists. I suppose one must be born here to understand +them. We have a fine coast in Cornwall, but I think you beat us." + +"Of course. This is Sark." + +"And does no one ever tumble over the Coupée in the dark?" + +"N--o, not often, any way. Nance once saw a man blown over." + +"That was a bad thing to see," said Gard, turning towards her. "How was +it?" + +"I was coming from school--" + +"All alone?" + +"Yes, all alone. The others had gone on; I'd been kept in, and it was +nearly dark. It was blowing hard, and when I got to the first rock here +I thought it was going to blow me over. So I went down on my hands and +knees and was just going to crawl, when old Hirzel Mollet came down the +other side with a great sheaf of wheat on his back. He was taking it to +the Seigneur for his tithes. And then in a moment he gave a shout and I +saw he was gone." + +"That was terrible. What did you do?" + +"I screamed and crawled back across the narrow bit to the cutting, and +ran screaming up to the cottages at Plaisance, and Thomas Carré and his +men came running down. But they could do nothing. They went round in a +boat from the Creux, but he was dead." + +"And how did you get home?" + +"Thomas Carré took me across and I ran on alone, but it was months +before I could forget poor old Hirzel Mollet." + +"I should think so, indeed. That was a terrible thing to see." + +The opening of the mines, and the influx of the Welsh and Cornishmen and +their wives and children, with their new and up-to-date ideas of living +and dressing, had wrought a great and not altogether wholesome change +upon the original inhabitants. + +All the week they were hard at work in their fields or their boats, but +on Sunday the lonely lanes leading to Little Sark were thronged with +sightseers, curious to inspect the mines and the latest odd fashions +among the miners' wives and daughters. + +Odd, and extremely useless little parasols, were then the vogue in +England. The miners' women-folk flaunted these before the dazzled eyes +of the Sark girls, and Sark forthwith burst into flower of many-coloured +parasols. + +The mine ladies dressed in printed cottons of strange and wonderful +patterns. The Sark girls must do the same. + +"Tiens!" ejaculated Nance more than once, as they walked. "Here is Judi +Le Masurier with a new pink parasol!--and a straw bonnet with green +strings!--and every day you'll see her about the fields without so much +as a sun-bonnet on! And Rachel Guille has got a new print dress all red +roses and lilac! Mon Gyu, what are we coming to!" + +She had many such comments and still more unspoken ones. But Stephen +Gard, glancing, whenever he could do so unperceived, at the trim but +plainly-dressed little sun-bonneted figure by his side, vowed in his +heart that the whole of these others rolled into one were not to be +compared with her, and that he would give all the silver in the mines of +Sark to win her appreciation and regard. + +As they turned the corner at Vauroque, they came suddenly on a number of +men lounging on the low wall, and among them Tom Hamon, pipe in mouth +and hands in pockets. + +As they passed he made some jocular remark in the patois which provoked +a guffaw from the rest, and reddened Nance's face, and caused Bernel to +glance up at Gard and jerk round angrily towards Tom. + +"What did he say?" asked Gard, stopping. + +But Nance hurried on and he could not but follow. + +"What was it?" he asked again, as he caught up with her. + +"If you please, do not mind him. It was just one of his rudenesses." + +"They want knocking out of him." + +"He is very rude," said Nance, and they passed the Vicarage and turned +up the stony lane to the church. + +Gard was surprised by the speedy verification of Bernel's weather +forecast. Before the service was over the wind was howling round the +building with the sounds of unleashed furies, and when they got out it +was almost dark. + +They bent to the gale and pressed on, Gard with a discomforting +remembrance that the Coupée lay ahead. + +As they passed Vauroque there seemed a still larger crowd of loafers at +the corner, and again Tom's voice called rudely after them. + +Gard turned promptly and strode back to where he was sitting on the +wall, dangling his feet in devil-may-care fashion. Tom jumped down to +meet him. + +"Say that again in English, will you?" said Gard angrily. + +"Go to--!" said Tom. + +Then Gard's left fist caught him on the hinge of the right jaw, and he +reeled back among the others who had jumped down to back him up. + +"Well--? Want any more?" asked Gard stormily. + +"You wait," growled Tom, nursing his jaw, "I'll talk to you one of these +days." + +"Whenever you like, you cur. What you need is a sound thrashing and a +kick over the Coupée." + +To his surprise none of the others joined in. But he did not know them. + +They might guffaw at Tom's unseemly pleasantries, but they held him in +no high esteem--either for himself or for his position, since word of +the sale of La Closerie had got about. + +Then they were a hardy crew and held personal courage and prowess in +high respect. And in this matter there could be no possible doubt as to +where the credit lay. + +"Goin' to fight him, Tom?" drawled one, in the patois. + +"---- him!" growled Tom, but made no move that way. + +And Gard turned and went over to Nance and Bernel, who were sheltering +from the storm in lee of one of the cottages. + +If he could have seen it, there was a warmer feeling in her heart for +him than had ever been there before--a novel feeling, too, of respect +and confidence such as she had never entertained towards any other man +in all her life. + +For that quick blow had been struck on her behalf, she knew; and it was +vastly strange, and somehow good, to feel that a great strong man was +ready to stand up for her and, if necessary, to fight for her. + +She pressed silently on against the gale, with an odd little glow in her +heart, and a feeling as though something new had suddenly come into her +life. + +The gale caught them at the Coupée, and the crossing seemed to Gard not +without its risks. + +Bernel bent and ran on through the darkness without a thought of danger. + +Gard hesitated one moment and Nance stretched a hand to him, and he took +it and went steadily across. + +And, oh, the thrill of that first living touch of her! The feel of the +warm nervous little hand sent a tingling glow through him such as he had +never in his life experienced before. Verily, a white-stone day this, in +spite of winds and darkness! + +The gale howled like ten thousand demons, and the noise of the waves in +Grande Grève came up to them in a ceaseless savage roar. Gard confessed +to himself that, alone, he would never have dared to face that perilous +storm-swept bridge. But the small hand of a girl made all the difference +and he stepped alongside her without a tremor. + +"B'en, Monsieur Gard, was I right?" shouted Bernel in his ear, as they +stepped within the shelter of the cutting on the farther side. + +"You were right. It's a terrible place in a gale." + +"You wait," shouted Bernel. "We're not home yet." + +"No more Coupées, any way," and they bent again into the storm. + +They had not gone more than a hundred yards when, through some freakish +funnelling of the tumbled headlands, the gale gripped them like a giant +playing with pigmies, caught them up, flung them bodily across the road +and held Gard and Bernel pinned and panting against the green bank, +while Nance disappeared over it into the shrieking darkness. + +"Good heavens!" gasped Gard, fearful lest she should have been blown +over the cliffs, and wriggled himself up under the ceaseless thrashing +of the gale and was whirled off the top into the field beyond. + +There the pressure was less, and, getting on to his hands and knees to +crawl in search of Nance, he found her close beside him crouching in the +lee of the grassy dyke. + +He crept into shelter beside her, and presently, in the lull after a +fiercer blast than usual, she set off, bent almost double, and in a +moment they were in comparative quiet. Nance crawled through a gap into +the road and they found Bernel waiting for them. + +"Knew you'd come through there. That's what that gap's made for," he +shouted. + +"I've been in many a storm but I never felt wind like that before," said +Gard, as soon as his breath came back. + +"If you'd stopped with me you'd have been all right," said Bernel. +"There was no need for you to go after Nance. We've been through that +lots of times, haven't we, Nance?" + +"Lots." + +"I shall know next time," said Gard, and to Nance it was a fresh +experience to think of some one going out of his way to be of possible +service to her. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +HOW TOM WANTED TO BUT DIDN'T DARE + + +Before the six weeks allowed by Sark law for the retraiting of the +property had expired, Grannie and Mrs. Hamon put in their claims, and it +became generally known that they would become the new owners of La +Closerie, in place of John Guille. + +When the rumour at length reached Tom's ears, he, not unnaturally +perhaps, set down the whole matter as a plot to oust him from his +heritage and put Nance and Bernel in his place. + +So his anger grew, and he was powerless. And the impotence of an angry +man may lead him into gruesome paths. Smouldering fires burst out at +times into devastating flames, and maddened bulls put down their heads +and charge regardless of consequences. + +When Tom Hamon asked Peter Mauger to lend him his gun to go +rabbit-shooting one night, Peter, if he had been a thoughtful man, would +have declined. + +But Peter was above all things easy-going, and anything but thoughtful +of such matters as surged gloomily in Tom's angry head, and he lent him +his gun as a matter of course. + +And Tom went off across the Coupée into Little Sark, nursing his black +devil and thinking vaguely and gloomily of the things he would like to +do. For to rob a man of his rights in this fashion was past a man's +bearing, and if he was to be ruined for the sake of that solemn-faced +slip of a Nance and that young limb of a Bernel, he might as well take +payment for it all, and cut their crowing, and give them something to +remember him by. + +He had no very definite intentions. His mind was a chaos of whirling +black furies. He would like to pay somebody out for the wrongs under +which he was suffering--who, or how, was of little moment. He had been +wounded, he wanted to hit back. + +He turned off the Coupée to the left and struck down through the gorse +and bracken towards the Pot, and then crept along the cliffs and across +the fields towards La Closerie--still for three days his, in the +reversion; after that, gone from him irrevocably--a galling shame and +not to be borne by any man that called himself a man. + +Should he lie in the hedge and shoot down the old man as he came in from +those cursed mines which had started all the trouble? Or should he walk +right into the house and shoot and fell whatever he came across? If he +must suffer it would at all events be some satisfaction to think that he +had made them suffer too. + +From where he stood he could look right in through the open door, and +could hear their voices--Nance and Bernel and Mrs. Hamon--the +interlopers, the schemers, the stealers of his rights. + +The shaft of light was eclipsed suddenly as Nance came out and tripped +across the yard on some household duty. + +He remembered how he used to terrify her by springing out of the +darkness at her. She had helped to bring all this trouble about. + +Why should he not--? Why should he not--? + +And while his gun still shook in his hands to the wild throbbing of his +pulses, Nance passed out of his sight into the barn. + +The deed a man may do on the spur of the moment, when his brain is on +fire, is not so readily done when it has to be thought about. + +Then Mrs. Hamon came to the door, and called to Nance to bring with her +a piece or two of wood for the fire. + +Here was his chance! Here was the head and front of the offence, past, +present, and future! If she had never come into the family there would +have been no Nance, no Bernel, no selling of the farm, maybe. A movement +of the arms, the crooking of a finger, and things would be even between +them. + +But--it would still be he who would have to pay--as always! + +All through he had been the sufferer, and if he did this thing he must +suffer still more--always he who must pay. + +The man who hesitates is lost, or saved. When the contemplator of evil +deeds begins also to contemplate consequences, reason is beginning to +resume her sway. + +Then he heard heavy footsteps and voices. His father and Stephen Gard. + +Another chance! Gard he hated. There was a bruise on his right jaw +still. And the old man!--he had cut him out of his inheritance by going +crazy over those cursed mines. + +"I'm sorry you have gone so far," Gard was saying as they passed. "If +you had consulted me I should have advised against it. Mining is always +more or less of a speculation. I would never, if I could help it, let +any man put more into a mine than he can afford to lose." + +"If you know a thing's a good thing you want all you can get out of +it," said old Tom stoutly. + +"Yes, if--" and they passed into the house, while Tom in the hedge was +considering which of them he would soonest see dead. + +Now they were all inside together. A full charge of small shot might do +considerable and satisfactory damage. + +But thought of the certain consequences to himself welled coldly up in +him again, and he slunk noiselessly away, cursing himself for leaving +undone the work he had come out to do. + +On the common above the Pot, a terrified white scut rose almost under +his feet and sped along in front of him. He blew it into rags, and was +so ashamed of his prowess that he kicked the remnants into the gorse and +went home empty-handed. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +HOW OLD TOM FOUND THE SILVER HEART + + +One of the first things Stephen Gard had seen to, when he got matters +into his own hands, was the safeguarding of the mines from ever-possible +irruption of the sea. The great steam pumps kept the workings reasonably +clear of drainage water, but no earthly power could drain the sea if it +once got in. + +The central shafts had sunk far below sea-level. The lateral galleries +had, in some cases, run out seawards and were now extending far under +the sea itself. + +From the whirling coils of the tides and races round the coast, he +judged that the sea-bed was as seamed and broken and full of faults as +the visible cliffs ashore. + +In bad weather, the men in those submarine galleries and the +outbranching tunnels could hear the crash of the waves above their +heads, and the rolling and grinding of the mighty boulders with which +they disported. + +If, by chance, the sea should break through, the peril to life and +property would be great. + +He therefore caused to be constructed and fitted inside each tunnel, at +the point where it branched from its main gallery, a stout iron door, +roughly hinged at the top and falling, in case of need, into the flange +of a thick wooden frame. The framework was fitted to the opening on the +seaward side, in a groove cut deep into the rock round each side and +top and bottom. The heavy iron door, when open, lay up against the roof +of the tunnel and was supported by two wooden legs. If the sea should +break through, the first rush of the water would sweep away the +supporting legs, the iron door would fall with a crash into the flange +of the wooden frame, and the greater the pressure the tighter it would +fit. + +So the weight of the sea would seal the iron door against the wooden +casement, which would swell and press always tighter against the rock, +and that boring would be closed for ever. And if any man should be +inside the tunnel when the sea broke through, there he must stop, +drowned like a rat in its hole, unless by a miracle he could make his +way along the tunnel before the trap-door fell. + +Gard never ceased to enjoin the utmost caution on the men who undertook +these outermost experimental borings. + +His strict injunctions were to cease work at the first sign of water in +these undersea tunnels, make for the gallery, close the trap, and await +events. + +Believing absolutely in the existence of one or more great central +deposits whence all these thin veins of silver had come, and hoping to +strike them at every blow of his pick, old Tom Hamon was the keenest +explorer and opener of new leads in the mine. + +"The silver's there all right," he said, time and again, "it only wants +finding," and he pushed ahead, here and there, wherever he thought the +chances most favourable. + +He took his rightful pay along with the rest for the work he did, but it +was not for wages he wrought. Ever just beyond the point of his +energetic pick lay fortune, and he was after it with all his heart and +soul and bodily powers. + +For months he had been following up a vein which ran out under the sea, +and grew richer and richer as he laid it bare. He believed it would lead +him to the mother vein, and that to the heart of all the Sark silver. +And so he toiled, early and late, and knew no weariness. + +His tunnel, in places not more than three and four feet high and between +two and three feet wide, extended now several hundred feet under the +sea, and was fitted at the gallery end with the usual raised iron door. + +It was hot work in there, in the dim-lighted darkness, in spite of the +fact that the sea was close above his head. Fortunately, here and there, +he had come upon curious little chambers like empty bubbles in one-time +molten rock, ten feet across and as much in height, some of them, and +curiously whorled and wrought, and these allowed him breathing spaces +and welcome relief from the crampings of the passage. + +When he had broken into such a chamber it needed, at times, no little +labour to rediscover his vein on the opposite side. But he always found +it in time, and broke through the farther wall with unusual difficulty, +and went on. + +The men generally worked in pairs, but old Tom would have no one with +him. He did all the work, picking and hauling the refuse single-handed. +The work should be his alone, his alone the glory of the great and +ultimate discovery. + +The rocks above him sweated and dripped at times, but that was only to +be expected and gave him no anxiety. Alone with his eager hopes he +chipped and picked, and felt no loneliness because of the flame of hope +that burned within him. Above him he could hear the long roll and growl +of the wave-tormented boulders--now a dull, heavy fall like the blow of +a gigantic mallet, and again a long-drawn crash like shingle grinding +down a hillside. But these things he had heard before and had grown +accustomed to. + +And so it was fated that, one day, after patiently picking round a great +piece of rock till it was loosened from its ages-old bed, he felt it +tremble under his hand, and leaning his weight against it, it +disappeared into space beyond. + +That had happened before when he struck one of the chambers, and he felt +no uneasiness. If there had been water beyond, it would have given him +notice by oozing round the rock as he loosened it. The brief rush of +foul gas, which always followed the opening of one of these hollows, he +avoided by lying flat on the ground until he felt the air about him +sweeter again. + +Then, enlarging the aperture with his pick, he scrambled through into +this chamber now first opened since time began. + +It was like many he had seen before, but considerably larger. Holding +his light at arm's length, above his head, a million little eyes +twinkled back at him as the rays shot to and fro on the pointed facets +of the rock crystals which hung from the roof and started out of the +walls and ground. + +The gleaming fingers seemed all pointed straight at him. Was it in +mockery or in acknowledgment of his prowess? + +For, in among the pointing fingers, it seemed to him that the +silver-bearing veins ran thick as the setting of an ancient jewel, +twisted and curling and winding in and out so that his eyes were dazzled +with the wonder of it all. + +"A man! A man at last! Since time began we have awaited him, and this +is he at last!" so those myriad eyes and pointing fingers seemed to cry +to him. + +And up above, the roar and growl of the sea sounded closer than ever +before. + +But he had found his treasure and he heeded nought beside. Here, of a +surety, he said to himself, was the silver heart from which the +scattered veins had been projected. He had found what he had sought with +such labours and persistency. What else mattered? + +And then, without a moment's warning--the end. + +No signal crackings, no thin jets or streams from the green immensity +beyond. + +Just one universal collapse, one chaotic climacteric, begun and ended in +the same instant, as the crust of the chamber, no longer supported by +the in-pent air, dissolved under the irresistible pressure of the sea. + +Where the sparkling chamber had been was a whirling vortex of bubbling +green water, in which tumbled grotesquely the body of a man. + +The water boiled furiously along the tunnel and foamed into the gallery. +The wooden supports of the iron door gave way; the door sank slowly into +its appointed place. + +Old Tom Hamon was dead and buried. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +HOW YOUNG TOM FOUND HIS MATCH + + +The news spread quickly. + +Tom Hamon heard it as he sat brooding over his wrongs and cursing the +chicken-heartedness and fear of consequences which had robbed him of his +revenge. + +He started up with an incredulous curse and tore across the Coupée to +the mines to make sure. + +But there was no doubt about it. Old Tom was dead: the six weeks were +still two days short of their fulfilment; the property was his; his day +had come. + +He walked straight to La Closerie, and stalked grimly into the kitchen, +where, as it happened, they were sitting over a doleful and long-delayed +meal. + +Mrs. Hamon had been too overwhelmed by the unexpected blow to consider +all its bearings. Grannie, looking beyond, had foreseen consequences and +trouble with Tom, and had sent for Stephen Gard and given him some +elementary instruction relative to the laws of succession in Sark. + +Tom stalked in upon them with malevolent triumph. They had tried their +best to oust him from his inheritance and the act of God had spoiled +them. He felt almost virtuous. + +But his natural truculence, and his not altogether unnatural exultation +at the frustration of these plans for his own upsetting, overcame all +else. Of regret for their personal loss and his own he had none. + +"Oh--ho! Mighty fine, aren't we, feasting on the best," he began. "Let +me tell you all this is mine now, spite of all your dirty tricks, and +you can get out, all of you, and the sooner the better. Eating my best +butter, too! Ma fé, fat is good enough for the likes of you," and he +stretched a long arm and lifted the dish of golden butter from the +board--butter, too, which Nance and her mother had made themselves after +also milking the cows. + +"Put that down!" said Gard, in a voice like the taps of a hammer. + +"You get out--bravache! Bretteur! I'm master here." + +"In six weeks--if you live that long. Until things are properly divided +you'll keep out of this, if you're well advised." + +"I will, will I? We'll see about that, Mister Bully. I know what you're +up to, trying to fool our Nance with your foreign ways, and I won't have +it. She's not for the likes of you or any other man that's got a wife +and children over in England--" + +This was the suddenly-thought-of burden of a discussion over the cups +one night at the canteen, soon after Gard's arrival, when the +possibility of his being a married man had been mooted and had remained +in Tom's turgid brain as a fact. + +"By the Lord!" cried Gard, starting up in black fury, "if you can't +behave yourself I'll break every bone in your body." + +And Nance's face, which had unconsciously stiffened at Tom's words, +glowed again at Gard's revelation of the natural man in him, and her +eyes shone with various emotions--doubts, hopes, fears, and a keen +interest in what would follow. + +The first thing that followed was the dish of butter, which hurtled past +Gard's head and crashed into the face of the clock, and then fell with a +flop to the earthen floor. + +The next was Tom's lowered head and cumbrous body, as he charged like a +bull into Gard and both rolled to the ground, the table escaping +catastrophe by a hair's-breadth. + +Mrs. Hamon had sprung up with clasped hands and piteous face. Nance and +Bernel had sprung up also, with distress in their faces but still more +of interest. They had come to a certain reliance on Gard's powers, and +how many and many a time had they longed to be able to give Tom a +well-deserved thrashing! + +Through the open door of her room came Grannie's hard little voice, "Now +then! Now then! What are you about there?" but no one had time to tell +her. + +Gard was up in a moment, panting hard, for Tom's bull-head had caught +him in the wind. + +"If you want ... to fight ... come outside!" he jerked. + +"---- you!" shouted Tom, as he struggled to his knees and then to his +feet. "I'll smash you!" and he lowered his head and made another blind +rush. + +But this time Gard was ready for him, and a stout buffet on the ear as +he passed sent him crashing in a heap into the bowels of the clock, +which had witnessed no such doings since Tom's great-grandfather brought +it home and stood it in its place, and it testified to its amazement at +them by standing with hands uplifted at ten minutes to two until it was +repaired many months afterwards. + +Tom got up rather dazedly, and Gard took him by the shoulders and ran +him outside before he had time to pull himself together. + +"Now," said Gard, shaking him as a bull-dog might a calf. "See here! +You're not wanted here at present, and if you make any more trouble +you'll suffer for it," and he gave him a final whirl away from the house +and went in and closed the door. + +Tom stood gazing at it in dull fury, thought of smashing the window, +picked up a stone, remembered just in time that it would be his window, +so flung the stone and a curse against the door and departed. + +"I'm sorry," said Gard, looking deprecatingly at Nance. "I'm afraid I +lost my temper." + +"It was all his fault," said Nance. "Did he hurt you?" + +"Only my feelings. He had no right to say such things or do what he +did." + +"It's always good to see him licked," said Bernel with gusto. "Nance and +I used to try, but he was too big for us." + +Mrs. Hamon had gone in with a white face to explain things to Grannie. + +She came back presently and said briefly to Gard, "She wants you," and +he went in to the old lady. + +"You did well, Stephen Gard," she chirped. "Stand by them, for they'll +need it. He's a bad lot is Tom, and he'll make things uncomfortable when +he comes here to live. When Nancy takes her third of what's left of the +house, that'll be only two rooms, so you'll have to look out for +another, and maybe you'll not find it easy to get one in Little Sark. If +you take my advice you'll try Charles Guille at Clos Bourel, or Thomas +Carré at the Plaisance Cottages by the Coupée, they're kindly folk +both. I've told Nancy to get Philip Tanquerel of Val Creux to help her +portion the lots, and it'll be no easy job, for Tom will choose the best +and get all he can." + +They were agreeably surprised to hear no more of Tom, but learned before +long that, on the strength of his unexpected good fortune, he had gone +over to Guernsey to pass, in ways that most appealed to him, the six +weeks allowed by the law for the settlement of his father's affairs. + +Within that six weeks Philip Tanquerel of Val Creux had, on Mrs. Hamon's +behalf, to allot all old Tom's estate, house, fields, cattle, +implements, furniture, into three as equal portions as he could contrive +with his most careful balancing of pros and cons. For, with Solomon-like +wisdom, Sark law entails upon the widow the apportionment of the three +lots into which everything is divided, but allows the heir first choice +of any two of them, the remaining lot becoming the widow's dower. + +No light undertaking, therefore, the apportionment of those lots, or the +widow may be left with only bedrooms to live in, and an ill proportion +of grazing ground for her cattle and herself to live upon. For, be sure +that when it comes to the picking of these lots, even the best of sons +will pick the plums, and when such an one as Tom Hamon is in question it +is as well to mingle the plums and the sloes with an exactitude of +proportionment that will allow of no advantage either way. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +HOW GARD DREW NEARER TO HIS HEART'S DESIRE + + +Gard's isolation was brought home to him when he endeavoured to find +another lodging in Little Sark. + +Accommodation was, of course, limited. Many of the miners had to tramp +in each day from Sark. There was still, in spite of all his tact and +efforts, somewhat of a feeling against him as a new-comer, an innovator, +a tightener of loose cords, and no one offered to change quarters to +oblige him. And so, in the end, he took Grannie's advice and found a +room in one of the thatch-roofed cottages which offered their +white-washed shoulders to the road just where it rose out of the further +side of the Coupée into Sark. + +They were quiet, farmer-fisher folk who lived there, having nothing to +do with the mines and little beyond a general interest in them. + +When not at work, he was thrown much upon himself, and if in his rambles +he chanced upon Bernel Hamon it was a treat, and if, as happened all too +seldom, upon Nance as well, an enjoyment beyond words. + +But Nance was a busy maid, with hens and chickens, and cows and calves, +and pigs and piglets claiming her constant attention, and it was only +now and again that she could so arrange her duties as to allow of a +flight with Bernel--a flight which always took the way to the sea and +developed presently into a bathing revel wherein she flung cares and +clothes to the winds, or into a fishing excursion, in which pleasure and +profit and somewhat of pain were evenly mixed. + +For, though she loved the sea and ate fresh-caught fish with as much +gusto as any, she hated seeing them caught--almost as much as she hated +having her fowls or piglets slaughtered for eating purposes, and never +would touch them--a delicacy of feeling at which Bernel openly scoffed +but could not laugh her out of. + +She had sentiments also regarding the rabbits Bernel shot on the cliffs, +but being wild, and she herself having had no hand in their upbringing +and not having known them intimately, she accepted them as natural +provision, though not without compunctions at times concerning possible +families of orphans left totally unprovided for. + +When she did permit herself a few hours off duty she did it with a +whole-hearted enjoyment--approaching the naïve abandon of +childhood--which, to Gard's sober restraint, when he was graciously +permitted to witness it, was wholly charming. + +By degrees, and especially after her father's tragic death, Nance's +feelings towards the stranger had perceptibly changed. + +He might be an alien, an Englishman; but he was at all events a +Cornishman, and she had heard say that the men of Cornwall and of the +Islands and of the Bretagne had much in common, just as their rugged +coasts had. And England, after all, was allied to the Islands, belonged +to them in fact, and was indeed quite as essential a part of the Queen's +dominions as the Islands themselves, and to harbour unfriendly feeling +towards your own relations--unless indeed, as in the case of Tom, they +had given you ample cause--would be surely the mark of a small and +narrow mind. + +And he might be a miner; and mines, and most miners, were naturally +hateful to her. But he had been a sailor, and was miner only by accident +as it were, and she knew that he loved the sea. Allowance, she supposed, +must be made for men getting twists in their brains--like her father. He +had gone crazy over these mines though he had been sensible enough in +other matters. + +What her careful, surreptitious observation of him, from the depths and +round the wings of her sun-bonnet, told her was that he was an upright +man, and true, and bold, with a spirit which he kept well in hand but +which could blaze like lightning on occasion, and a strength which he +could turn to excellent purpose when the need arose. + +And--and--she admitted it shyly to herself and not without wonder, and +found herself dwelling upon it as she sang softly to the ping-pang of +the milk into the pail, or the swoosh of it in the churn--he thought of +her, Nance Hamon--perhaps he even admired her a little--any way he was +certainly interested in her, and in his shy reserved way he showed a +desire for her company which she no longer found pleasure in defeating +as she had done at first. + +Undoubtedly an odd feeling, this, of being cared for by an outside +man--- but withal tending to increase of self-esteem and therefore not +unpleasing. + +Peter Mauger, indeed--but then she had never looked upon Peter as +anything but Peter, and the shadow of Tom had always obscured him to +her. Stephen Gard was a man, and a different kind of a man from Peter +altogether. + +She remembered, with a slight reddening still of the warm brown cheeks +whenever she thought of it--how, on the previous Sunday afternoon, she +and Bernel had gone running over the downs through the waist-high +bracken towards Brenière, the tide in their favourite pool below the +rocks being too high for bathing. And on the slope above the Cromlech +they had come suddenly on Gard, lying there looking out over the sea +towards L'Etat. + +He had jumped up at sight of them and stood hesitating a moment. + +"Going for a bathe?" he asked, knowing the usual course of their +proceedings. + +"Yes, we were," said Bernel. "You going?" with a glance at the towel +Gard had brought out on the chance of a dip. + +"I'd thought of it, but your tides and currents here are so +troublesome--" + +"Oh, we know all about 'em. They're all right when you know." + +"I suppose so, but--" with a look at Nance, "I'll clear out." + +"You're not coming?" + +"Your sister wouldn't like it." + +"Nance?" with a look of surprise. "She won't mind. Will you, Nance?" + +Then it was her turn to hesitate, for bathing with Bernel was one thing, +and with Mr. Gard quite another. + +"You'll show me another time, Bernel," said Gard, picking up his towel. +"I wouldn't like to spoil your fun now." + +"But you wouldn't. Would he, Nance?" + +"I don't mind--if you'll give me the cave." + +"All the caves you want," said Bernel, scornful at such unusual +stickling on the part of his chum. + +"Quite sure you don't mind?" asked Gard, doubtful still. + +"If I have the cave. It's generally the one who gets there first, and +Bern goes quicker than I do." + +"Of course. You're only a girl," laughed Bernel, as he raced on down the +slope. + +And Nance laughed too at his brotherly depreciation, and Gard, who had +never regarded her as only a girl, and whose thoughts of her were very +absorbing and uplifting, happening to catch her eye, laughed also, and +so they went down towards the sea in pleasant enough humour and the +nearest approach to good-fellowship they had yet attained. + +Nance disappeared round a corner, and the next he saw of her she was +swimming boldly out towards Brenière point, and in a moment he and +Bernel were after her. + +"Don't go past the point," jerked Bernel. + +"She's gone." + +"She's a fish and knows her way," and just then they ploughed into what +at first looked to Gard like a perfectly smooth spot amid the troubled +waters, and then he was lifted from below and flung awry and out of his +stroke, and tossed and tumbled till he felt as helpless as a dead fish. +Then a fresh coil of the bubbling tide whirled him to one side and he +was out again in the safety of the dancing waves. + +"You see?" cried Bernel. "That's what it's like," and shot into it +headlong. + +And Gard, treading water quietly at a safe distance, saw how, every +here and there, great crowns of water came surging up from below, with +such lunging force that they rose in some cases almost a foot above the +neighbouring level of the sea, and he wondered how any swimmer could +make way through them. And yet Nance had cleft them like a seal, and he +could hardly make out her brown head bobbing among the distant waves. + +"Is it safe for her?" he cried after Bernel, but the boy's only reply +was a scornful wave of the arm as he pressed on to join her. + +Gard had an ample swim, and was dressed and sitting on a rock, when they +came leisurely in, and it seemed to him that never in his life had he +seen anything half so pretty as those shining coils of chestnut hair +with the sea-drops sparkling in them, and the bright energetic face +below, browned with sun and wind, rosy-brown now with her long swim, and +beaded like her hair with pearly drops. + +As she swept along below, she gave just one quick up-glance, and then, +with completest ignorance of his presence, turned her head to Bernel and +chattered away to him with most determined nonchalance. + +She and Bernel used the long effective side-stroke almost entirely, and +the little arm that flashed in and out so tirelessly was as white as the +garment that fluttered in wavy convolutions about the lithe little body +below. + +Gard, as he watched her, felt like a discoverer of hidden treasure, +overwhelmed and intoxicated with the wonder of unexpected riches. He had +come to this wild little land of Sark after silver, and he said to +himself that he had found a pearl beyond price. + +In a minute or two they were scrambling up the slope and flung +themselves down beside him for a rest, feeling the strain of unusual +exertion now that the brace and tonic of the water was off them. + +"You are bold swimmers," said Gard. + +"She's a fish in the water," said Bernel, "and she made me swim almost +as soon as I could walk." + +"You see," said Nance, in her decisive little way, "many of our Sark men +won't learn to swim. They think it's mistrusting God. But that seems to +me foolish. Every man who goes down to the sea ought to be able to +swim--besides, it's terribly nice." + +"Yes, surely, Sark men ought to be able to swim, and they have certainly +no lack of opportunity. But it's a dangerous coast for those who don't +know it. Look at that now," and he nodded to the foaming race in front +of them, between Brenière and a gaunt rocky peak which rose like a +mountain-top out of the lonely sea. "Why, it must be running five or six +miles an hour." + +From where they sat the sea seemed perfectly calm, a level plain of +deepest blue, with pale green streaks under the rocks and dark purple +patches further out, its surface just furrowed with tiny wind-ripples, +and underneath, a long slow heave like the breathings of the spirit of +the deep. But, smooth as the blue plain seemed, wave met rock with roar +and turmoil, and between that outlying peak and the shore the waters +tore and foamed with wild white crests--tumbling green ridges that were +never two seconds the same. While all along the great black base of the +peak the white waves rushed like mighty rockets, flinging long white +arms up its ragged sides and crashing together at the end in dazzling +bursts of foam. + +"Wonderful!" said Gard. "I've lain here for hours watching it." + +"I've swum it," said Nance quietly. + +"So've I," said Bernel. + +"Never! You two? I wonder you came back alive!" + +"On the slack it's not so bad, and at half ebb." + +"And what is there to see when you get there?" + +"Oh, just rocks, and puffins and gulls. You can hardly walk without +stepping on them. Do you remember how we sat and watched the baby gulls +coming out, Nance?" + +"Yes," nodded Nance. "And you nearly got your fingers bitten off by a +puffin when you felt in its hole." + +"Ma dé, yes! They do bite." + +"What do you call the rock?" asked Gard, nodding across at it. + +"L'Etat," said Nance. "Mr. Cachemaille once told me that it had most +likely at one time been joined on to Little Sark by a Coupée, just the +same as Little Sark is joined to Sark. That's the Coupée, that shelf +under water where the tide runs so fast. Some day, he said, perhaps our +Coupée will go and we'll be an island just as L'Etat is." + +"It won't be this week," said Bernel philosophically. + +"It looks like the top of a high mountain just sticking up out of the +water," said Gard, fascinated by the ceaseless rush of those monstrous +waves in an otherwise calm sea. + +"I suppose that is what it is," said Nance. "It's far worse at the other +end. You can't see it from here. No matter how smooth the sea is it +seems to tumble down over some cliff under water and then come shooting +up again, and it throws itself at the rocks and sends the spray up into +the sky." + +"I'd like to go and see it," said Gard. "But I don't think I would like +to swim. Could one get a boat?" + +"We have a boat with Nick Mollet in the bay below here," said Bernel. +"But he's generally out fishing and you're always busy." + +"I'll take a holiday some day and you shall take me over." + +Time came when they went, but it was hardly a holiday undertaking. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +HOW NANCE CAME UP THE MAIN SHAFT WITHOUT GOING DOWN IT + + +It was a few days after this that Gard had another proof of Nance's and +Bernel's fearlessness and prowess in the waters they had conquered into +friendliness. + +Bernel was a great fisherman. He could wheedle out rock-fish by the +dozen while envious miners sat about him tugging hopefully at empty +lines. + +He had gone down one afternoon to the overhanging wooden slip at Port +Gorey, and had excellent sport, until a sudden shift of the wind to the +south-west began piling the waters into the gulf on an incoming tide. +Then he drew in his lines and sat dangling his legs for a few minutes, +before gathering up his catch and going home. + +Nance saw him from the other headland and came tripping round to see how +he had fared. + +"Bern," she cried, as she came up. "Tell that man he's not safe down +there. The waves are bad there sometimes." + +"Hi, you!" cried Bernel, to a miner who had been watching his success +and had then climbed down seaward over the furrowed black ledges, hoping +to do better there. "Come back! It's not safe there." + +But the fisherman, intent on his sport, either did not, or would not, +hear him. + +"Oh, well, if you won't," said Bernel. + +And then, without warning, a wave greater than any that had gone before +it, hurled itself up the rocks and came roaring over the black ledges +into the bay, and the man was gone. + +Nance and Bernel had straightened up instantly at the sound of its +coming. + +Their eyes swept the rocks, and caught a glimpse of the dark body +tumbling with the cascade of foam into Port Gorey. + +"Oh, Bern!" cried Nance, with up-clasped hands. + +But Bernel, loosing his belt and kicking off his breeches with a glance +at the derelict, launched himself clear of the pier with a shout. And +Nance, seeing the bulk of the man, and careless of everything but Bernel +who seemed so very small compared with him, threw off her sun-bonnet and +linen jacket, loosed a button, and was gone like a white flash after the +two of them. + +Gard was in the assay office not far away. He heard the shout and ran +out just in time to see Nance go, and running to the slip he saw their +clothes lying and the meaning of it all. + +Bern had hold of the miner by the collar of his coat, and was doing his +best with one hand to tow him to the shingle at the head of the gulf, +the almost drowned one splashing wildly and doing his utmost to get hold +of and drown his rescuer. Every now and again Bernel found it necessary +to let go in order to keep out of his way. + +Nance swam steadily up and the sinking one made a frantic clutch at her. + +"Lie quiet or you shall drown," she cried. "Do you hear? Lie quiet and +you are safe! See!" and she held his right hand while Bernel took his +left and the man found himself no longer sinking, and they struck out +for the shingle. + +Others of the miners had run down with ropes, but ropes were useless in +that deep gulf. Nance and Bernel were doing the only thing possible, and +Gard saw that they were all right now that the man had ceased to +struggle. + +He picked up Bernel's things, and Nance's, with a curious feeling of +delight and a touch of shyness, her sun-bonnet, her little linen jacket, +her woollen skirt, her neat little wooden sabots, and ran swiftly with +them to the shaft at the head of the gulf. + +They would make for the adit, he thought, and so gain the shaft and come +up by the ladders, if, indeed, John Thomas was in any state to climb +ladders. + +"Bring some brandy," he shouted to one of the men, and ran on. Nance was +more to him than all the miners in Sark, and it was not brandy she would +be wanting, he knew, but her clothes. + +And, since a man needs both his hands to go down almost perpendicular +ladders, he left at the top all that she would not instantly need and +took only the little jacket and the woollen skirt. These he rolled into +a bundle as he ran, and gripped in his teeth as he began the descent, +and rejoiced all the way down in this close intimacy with her clothing. +Indeed, on one of the stages, when he stopped for a moment's breathing, +he kissed the little garments devoutly, and then laughed shamefacedly at +himself for his foolishness, and glanced round quickly lest any should +have witnessed it. + +So down, down, till he came to the level, and crept along the adit to +the shore. + +They had dragged John Thomas up on to the shingle, and he lay there +half-dead and fuller of water than was his custom. + +Nance looked up quickly at the sound of Gard's feet, and the paled-brown +of her face flushed red at sight of him, and then a grateful gleam +lighted it as he dropped her things into her hand and bent over John +Thomas, who was showing signs of life in a dazed and water-logged +fashion. + +"You did splendidly, you two," he said to Bernel. "It's a grand thing to +save a man's life, even if it's only John Thomas," for John Thomas had +found this land of free spirits too much for him, and had become a +soaker and an indifferent workman. + +"He'll be all right after a bit," he added. "I told them to send down +some brandy," at which John Thomas groaned heavily to show his +extremity. "As soon as it comes, Bernel, you help Nance up the ladders. +Then run home both of you. Your things are at the top, Bernel. And here +comes the brandy. Now, up you go! Do you think you can manage the +ladders?" he asked Nance. + +"I'll manage them," and they crept away into the darkness of the adit, +and Nance thought she had never been in such a hideous place in her +life. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +HOW GARD REFUSED AN OFFER AND MADE AN ENEMY + + +They had been most gratefully and graciously free from Tom since his +father's death, but he reappeared a day or two before the end of the six +weeks, and brought with him a wife from Guernsey--not even a Guernsey +woman, however, but a Frenchwoman from the Cotentin--black-haired, +black-eyed, good-looking, after the type that would please such an one +as Tom Hamon--somewhat over-bold of face and manner for the rest of the +family. + +Philip Tanquerel had had to bring all his sagacity to bear on his +difficult task of apportioning the lots, and Tom, who knew every inch of +the ground and all its capacities, grinned viciously now and again at +the acumen displayed in the divisions. + +The allotment of the house-room had presented difficulties. + +The great kitchen at La Closerie occupied the whole centre third of the +ground floor, the remaining thirds of the space on each side being taken +up with the rarely-used best room and three bedrooms, all pretty much of +a size, and all opening into the kitchen. Up above, under the sloping +thatch was the great solie or loft, entered from the outside through the +door-window in the gable by means of a short wooden ladder. + +Grannie's dower rights, when Tom's grandfather died, had obtained for +her the two rooms constituting one-third of the house on the south side +of the kitchen, and certain rights of use of the kitchen itself. As she +needed only one room, she had bartered off the other and her kitchen +rights to her son and his wife in exchange for food and attendance, and +the arrangement had worked excellently. + +But, on her first glimpse of young Tom's quick-eyed, bold-faced +Frenchwoman, she had vowed she would have none of her; and in the end, +as the result of some chaffering, it was arranged that Tom and his wife +should have the kitchen and all the rooms north of it, while Mrs. Hamon +and Nance and Bernel had the room next Grannie's for a kitchen, and the +great loft for bedrooms, all the necessary and duly specified +alterations to be made at Tom's expense, and Mr. Tanquerel to see them +carried out at once. Grannie's other room was to become their +sitting-room also and they were to provide for her as hitherto. By +boarding up the doors leading to the kitchen, and making a new entrance +to their own rooms, the families were therefore entirely separated, to +every one's complete satisfaction. + +The division of the furniture and kitchen utensils gave Mrs. Hamon all +she needed. Tom, of course, took as _droit d'ainesse_, before the +division, the family clock--which still bore signs of strife, and had +refused to go since that night when Gard's buffet had sent him headlong +into it; and the farm-ladders and the pilotins--the stone props on which +the haystacks were built; and in addition to his own full share, as +between himself and Nance and Bernel, he exacted from them to the +uttermost farthing the extra seventh part of the value of all they +received--an Island right, but honoured more in the breach than in the +observance, and one which, in its exercise, tended to label the +exerciser as unduly mean and grasping. + +Beyond that, everything was so fairly well balanced that Tom found +himself unable to secure all he had hoped, and so deemed himself +ill-used, and did not hesitate to express himself in his usual forcible +manner. + +To obtain some of the things he specially wanted, Tanquerel had so +arranged the lots that he must sacrifice others, and these little +matters rankled in his mind and obscured his purview. + +There was a good deal of unhappy wrangling, but in the end Mrs. Hamon +and Nance found themselves with a large cornfield, one for pasture, and +one for mixed crops, potatoes, beans and so on, besides rights of +grazing and gorse-cutting on a certain stretch of cliff common. + +They had also a pony and two cows, and two pigs and a couple of dozen +hens and a cock--quite enough to keep Nance busy; and to them also fell +an adequate share of the byres and barns, and the free use of the well. + +Tom, however, still looked upon them as interlopers, and grudged them +every stick and stone, and hoof and claw. If they had never come into +the family all would have been his. Whatever they had they had snatched +out of his mouth. + +If it had not been for Philip Tanquerel the alterations agreed on would +never have been completed. He got down the carpenter and mason from +Sark, stood over them, day by day, till the work was done, and then +referred them to Tom for payment--and a pleasant and lively time they +had in getting it. + +The conditions resulting from all this were just such as have prevailed +in hundreds of similar cases, such as are almost inevitable from the +minute divisions and sub-divisions of small properties. When ill-feeling +has prevailed beforehand it is by no means likely to be lessened by the +unavoidable friction of such a distribution. + +The open ill-feeling was, however, all on Tom's side. The others had +suffered him at closer quarters the greater part of their lives. It was +to them a mighty relief to be boarded off from him, and to feel free at +last from his unwelcome incursions. + +He never spoke to any of them, and when they passed one another on their +various farm duties a black look and a muttered curse was his only +greeting. + +By means of what fairy tales concerning himself, or his position, or +Sark, he had induced the lively-eyed Julie to marry him, we may not +know. But Mrs. Tom very soon let it be known that she considered herself +woefully misled, and quite thrown away upon such a place as Sark, and +still more so upon this _ultima thule_ of Little Sark, which she volubly +asserted was the very last place le bon Dieu had made, and the condition +in which it was left did Him little credit. + +She, at all events, showed no disinclination to chat with her +neighbours. Very much the contrary. None of them could pass within range +of her eyes and tongue without a greeting and an invitation to talk. + +"Tiens donc, Nancie, ma petite!" she would cry, at sight of Nance. "What +a hurry you are in. It is hurry and scurry and bustle from morning till +night with you over there. The hens? Let them wait, ma garche, 'twill +strengthen their legs to scratch a bit, and 'twill enlighten your mind +to hear about Guernsey and Granville. Oh the beautiful country! Mon +Dieu, if only I were back there!" + +They all--except, perhaps, Grannie--felt for her--lonely in a strange +land--and were inclined to do what they could to make her more +contented. But she desired them chiefly as listeners, and the things she +had to tell were little to their taste, and less to her credit from +their point of view, though she herself evidently looked upon them as +every-day matters, and calculated to inspire these simple island-folk +with the respect due to a woman of the greater world outside. + +Grannie's views of her grand-daughter-in-law had never altered from the +first moment she set eyes on her. + +When Mrs. Tom came in to hear herself talk, one afternoon when Tom was +away fishing, the old lady simply sat and stared at her from the depths +of her big black sun-bonnet, and never opened her lips or gave any sign +of interest or hearing. + +"Is she deaf?" asked Mrs. Tom after a while. + +"Dear me, no. Grannie hears everything," said Mrs. Hamon, with a smile +at thought of all the old lady would have to say presently. + +"Nom d'un nom, then why doesn't she speak? Is it dumb she is?" + +"Neither deaf nor dumb--nor yet a fool," rapped Grannie, so sharply that +the visitor jumped. + +And during the remainder of her visit, no matter to whom she was talking +or what she was saying, Julie's snapping black eyes would inevitably +keep working round to the depths of the big black sun-bonnet, and at +times her discourse lost point and trailed to a ragged end. + +"It's my belief that old woman next door is a witch," she said to her +husband later on. + +"She's an old devil," he said bluntly. "She'll put the evil eye on you +if you don't take care." + +"She ought to be burnt," said Mrs. Tom. + +"All the same," said Tom musingly, "she's got money, so you'd best be as +civil to her as she'll let you." + +"Mon Dieu! My flesh creeps still at the way she looked at me. She has +the evil eye without a doubt." + +And Grannie?--"Mai grand doux! What does a woman like that want here?" +said she. "A wide mouth and wanton eyes. La Closerie has never had these +before--a Frenchwoman too!"--with withering contempt. For, odd as it may +seem, among this people originally French, and still speaking a patois +based, like their laws and customs, on the old Norman, there is no term +of opprobrium more profound than "Frenchman." + +Madame Julie flatly refused to subject herself to further peril from +Grannie's keen but harmless gaze, and contented herself with such +opportunities of enlarging Nance's outlook on life as casual chats about +the farm-yard afforded, and found time heavy on her hands. + +Ennui, before long, gave place to grumbling, and that to recrimination; +and from what the others could not help hearing, through the boarded-up +doors and the floor of the loft, Tom and his wife had a cat-and-dog time +of it. + +Gard had moved over to Plaisance with great regret. But nothing else was +possible under the altered circumstances at La Closerie, so he made the +best of it. + +It was some consolation to learn that they also missed him. + +"Everything's different," grumbled Bernel, one day when they met. "Tom +and his wife quarrel so that we can hear them through the walls. And +Grannie sits by the hour without opening her mouth. And mother and Nance +are as quiet as if they were going to be sick. And I'm getting +green-mouldy. Seems as if we'd got to the end of things, and nothing was +ever going to happen again. I think I'll go to Guernsey." + +"Do you think they'd like--I mean, would they mind if I came in for a +chat now and then? It's pretty lonely up at Plaisance too." + +"Oh, they'll mind and so will I. When'll you come?" + +"I'll look in to-night as I come from the mines--if you're sure--" + +"You come and try, and if you don't like it you needn't come +again"--with a twinkle of the eye. + +Nance did not strike him as looking as though she were going to be sick, +when he went in that night, nor did her mother. + +Grannie indeed had little to say, but then she was never over-talkative, +and when Gard more than once looked at her, and wondered if she had +fallen asleep, he always found the keen old eyes wide open, and eyeing +him watchfully as ever out of the depths of the big black sun-bonnet. + +Mrs. Hamon asked about his new quarters, and his quiet shake of the head +and simple--"They're kindly folk, but it's somehow very different"--told +its own tale. + +"They're a bit short-handed, you see," he added, "and so they're all +kept busy, and at times, I'm afraid, they wish me further." + +"And you go all that way back for your dinner each day?" asked Mrs. +Hamon thoughtfully. + +"Well, I have tried taking it with me, but it's not very satisfactory." + +"What would you say to coming here for it, as you used to? I think we +could manage it, Nance. What do you say?" + +"We could manage it all right," said Nance, "if--" and then, in spite of +herself, she could not keep that telltale mouth of hers in order, and +the attempt to repress a smile only emphasized the dimples at the +corners. For Gard's face was as eager as a dog's at sight of a rat. + +"It will save me such a lot of time," he explained--at which Nance +dimpled again as she went out to feed her chickens, and left them to +complete the new arrangement. + +And if it had cost Gard every penny of his salary he would still have +rejoiced at it, and considered his bargain a good one. As it was, it +cost him no more than the trouble of rearranging his terms with the good +folks at Plaisance, and it gave a new zest and enjoyment to life since +it ensured a meeting with Nance at least once each day. + +And not with Nance only! + +Madame Julie, very weary of herself, and Tom, and her surroundings, and +Sark, and life in general as understood in Sark, very soon became +conscious of the regular visits next door of the best-looking young man +she had yet seen in the Island, and was filled with curiosity concerning +him. + +"He's after that slip of a Nance," she said to herself. "And he has his +own share of good looks, has that young man."--And then came the +inevitable, "Mon Dieu, but I wish Tom had been made like that!" + +To get a better view of him--and perhaps not without a vague idea of +ulterior interest and amusement for herself--anything to add a dash of +colour to the prevailing greyness of her surroundings--she was leaning +on the gate next day when he came striding up to his dinner, and gave +him, "Bon jour, m'sieur!" with much heartiness and the full benefit of +her black eyes and white teeth. + +"'Jour, madame!" and he whipped off his hat and passed on into the +house. + +"That was Madame Tom, I suppose, who was leaning over the gate, as I +came in," he said, as they ate. + +"I expect so," said Mrs. Hamon. "She generally seems to have time on her +hands." + +"When Tom's not there," snapped Grannie. "Got her hands full enough when +he is." + +"I should imagine Tom would not be too easy to get on with at times. +Maybe he'll settle down now he's married." + +"Doesn't sound like settling down sometimes," chirped the old lady +again. + +"Oh? I'm sorry to hear that. She doesn't look bad-tempered." + +"Tom's got more'n enough for the two of them." + +"I'm afraid she finds it a change from what she's been accustomed to," +said Mrs. Hamon quietly. "She came in once or twice, but her talk is of +things that don't interest us, and ours is of things that don't interest +her, so we can't get as friendly as we would like to be." + +"And Tom?" + +"Tom considers us all robbers, as he always has done. He gives us his +blackest face whenever he sees any of us." + +"That's unpleasant, seeing you're such close neighbours." + +"Yes, it's unpleasant, but we can't help it. It's just Tom. How is your +work getting on?" + +"Not as I would wish," said Gard, with a gloomy wag of the head. "Your +Sark men are difficult--very difficult, and the others who ought to know +better, and who do know better"--with more than a touch of warmth--"go +on as though I was a slave-driver." + +"Sark men are hard to drive," said Mrs. Hamon sympathetically. + +"They know perfectly well that I want only what is just and right to the +shareholders. They expect their pay to the last penny, but when I insist +on a proper return for it they look at me as if they'd like to knock me +on the head. It's disheartening work. I've been tempted at times to +throw it all up and go back to England"--at which Nance's heart gave so +unusual a little kick that she had difficulty in frowning it into +quietude, and just then Bernel came in with his gun and a couple of +rabbits. + +"Who's going to England?" he asked. "I'll go too." + +"No you won't," said Nance sharply. "We want you here." + +"It's as dull as Beauregard pond and as dirty, since the m--aw--um!" +with a deprecatory glance at Gard. + +"You'd find most busy places just as dirty," said Gard. + +"Then I'll go to sea. That's clean at all events." + +"Let's hope things will brighten a bit. You wouldn't find the fo'c'sle +of a trader as comfortable as La Closerie, my boy,"--and they fell to on +their dinner and left the matter there. + +"Dites-donc, Nannon, ma petite," said Mrs. Tom to Nance, a day or two +later, "who is the joli gars who comes each day to see you?" + +"Mr. Gard from the mines comes up here to get his dinner, if that's what +you mean." + +"Oh--ho! He comes for his dinner, does he? And is that all he comes for, +little Miss Modesty?" + +"That's all," said Nance solemnly. + +"Oh yes, without a doubt, that's all. I think I'll ask him next time I +see him. Why doesn't he go home for his dinner like other people?" + +"He's living at Plaisance now and it's far to go. He used to live here, +you know." + +"Ma foi, no, I didn't know. He used to live here? And why did he go to +Plaisance then?" + +"We hadn't room for him, you see." + +"But, Mon Dieu, we have room and to spare! There are those two bedrooms +empty. Why shouldn't he--" + +But Nance shook her head at that. + +"Why then?" demanded Mrs. Tom, with visions of some one besides Tom to +talk to of an evening--a good-looking, sensible one too. "Why?" + +"He and Tom don't get on well together--" + +"Pardi, I'm not surprised at that. It would need an angel out of heaven +to get on with him sometimes. What induced me ever to marry such a +grumbler I don't know. I wonder if Monsieur What-is-it?--Gard--would +come back if I could arrange it?" + +But Nance shook her head again. + +"Ah--ha, ma garche, and you would sooner he did not--is it not so?" + +"I'm quite sure he and Tom would never get on together, and I don't +think Mr. Gard would come." + +"It's worth trying, however. He would be some one to talk to of an +evening any way." + +And so, when Tom came in that evening, she tackled him on the subject. + +"Say then, mon beau,"--and as she said it she could not but contrast his +slouching bulk with the straight, well-knit figure of the other--"why +should we not take in a lodger as all the rest do? Our two rooms there +are empty and--" + +"Who's the lodger?" + +"There is one comes up every day to dinner next door, and would stop +there altogether if they had the room. Tiens, what's this his name is? +He's from the mines--" + +"You mean Gard--the manager," scowled Tom. + +"That's it--Monsieur Gard. Why shouldn't he--" + +"Because I'd break his head if I got the chance, and he knows it. Comes +up there to dinner, does he? How long's he been doing that?" + +"For a week now. Couldn't you get over your bad feeling? It would be +money in our pockets." + +"No, I couldn't, and he wouldn't come if you asked him." + +"Will you let me try?" + +"I tell you he won't come." + +"In that case there's no harm in trying. If I can persuade him, will you +promise to be civil to him, and not try to break his head?" + +"He won't come, I tell you." + +"And I say he may." + +"And you'll nag and nag till you get your own way, I suppose." + +"Of course. What's the use of a woman's tongue if she can't get her own +way with it? Will you promise to behave properly if he comes?" + +"I'll behave if he behaves," he growled sulkily. "But we'll neither of +us get the chance. He won't come." + +"Eh bien, we'll see!" + +And when Gard came up to dinner next day, she was leaning over the gate +waiting for him, very tastefully dressed according to her lights, and +with an engaging smile on her face. + +"Dites donc, Monsieur Gard," she said pleasantly. "Our little Nannon was +telling me you regretted having to live so far away. Why should you not +come back and occupy your old room? It is lying empty there, and I would +do my very best to make you comfortable, and you would be close to your +friends all the time then, instead of having to go across that frightful +Coupée." + +"It is very kind of you, madame," and he stared back at her in much +surprise, and found himself wondering what on earth had made her marry +such a man as Tom Hamon. For she was undeniably good-looking and had all +a Frenchwoman's knack of making the very best of all she had--abundant +black hair, very neatly twisted up at the back of her head; white teeth +and full red lips; straight, well-developed figure very neatly dressed; +and large black eyes which looked capable of so many things, that they +found it difficult to settle for any length of time to any one +expression. + +"It is very kind of you, madame," said Gard, "but--" and he stood +looking at her and hesitating how to put it. + +"You mean about Tom," she laughed. "But that is all past. I have spoken +to him, and he promises to behave himself quite properly if you will +come. Voilà!" + +Just for a moment the possibilities of the suggestion caught his mind. +He would be near Nance all the time. He would be saved much tiresome +walking to and fro. Especially he would be saved that passage of the +Coupée, which at night, even with a lantern, was not a thing one easily +got accustomed to, and on stormy nights was enough to make one's hair +fly. Then this woman was very different from his present landlady, and +would probably, he thought, have different notions of comfort. + +The quick black eyes caught something of what was in him: and he, as +suddenly, caught something of what lurked, consciously or unconsciously, +in them, and a little tremor of repugnance shook his heart and braced +him back to reason. + +He shook his head. "It would not do, madame. He and I would never get on +together, no matter how hard we tried. I thank you for the offer all the +same," and he made as though to pass her. + +"I wish you would come," she said, and laid a pleading hand on his arm. +"I'm sure he would try to behave. I can generally manage him except when +he's been drinking. Then I'm afraid of him, and wish some one else was +at hand. But that's only when he's been out all night at the fishing, +and it's soon over and done with. Do come, monsieur!"--It was almost a +whisper now, and she leaned towards him--the rich dark face--the great +solicitous eyes. + +But she had mistaken her man. Perhaps she had not met many like him. + +He shook off her hand almost brusquely. + +"It is impossible, madame. I could not," and he pushed past just as +Nance came to the door. + +She had seen him coming, heard their voices outside, and wondered what +was keeping him. + +She turned back into the house when she saw Julie, wondering still more. +For Gard's face was disturbed, and had in it something of the look she +had seen more than once when he had faced Tom in his tantrums. + +And, glancing past him, she had seen what he had not--Julie's face when +he turned his back on her. + +"Mon Gyu!" gasped Nance to herself, and went in wondering. + +"She and Tom wanted me to take my old room again, and I refused," was +all he said. + +"Tom wanted you to go there?" said Mrs. Hamon in amazement. + +"So she said." + +Grannie's disparaging sniff was charged with libel. + + * * * * * + +"Well?" asked Tom of his wife, when he came in later on with Peter +Mauger, who had come over for supper. "Got your lodger?" + +"No." + +"That's what I told you," with a provocative laugh. + +"Oh, he'd have come quick enough." + +"Would, would he? Then why didn't he?" + +"I wouldn't trust myself alone in the house with that man." + +"Ah!" said Tom, staring at her. "Always thought he was a bad lot myself, +didn't I, Peter?" + +Peter nodded. + +"It's a wonder to me that Mrs. Hamon lets him run after that girl of +hers as she does," said Julie. + +"If I catch him up to any of his tricks I'll break his head for him." + +"Maybe it would be a good thing for little Nance if you did." + +"Knew he was a toad as soon as I set eyes on him, so did Peter. Didn't +you, Peter?" + +Peter nodded. + +"What d'he say to you?" demanded Tom. + +"Didn't say much. Asked if you were much away at the fishing and that. +But the way he looked at me!--I've got the shivers down my back yet," +and a virtuous little shudder shook her and made a visible impression on +Peter. + +"Peter and me'll maybe have a word with him one of these days, won't we, +Peter?" + +"Maybe," said Peter. + +"We don't want toads like Gard running off with any of our Sark girls, +do we, Peter?" + +"No," said Peter. + +"Mr. Gard had better look out for himself or take himself off before +somebody does it for him. There's plenty wouldn't mind giving him a +crack on the head and slipping him over the Coupée some dark night." + +As to such extreme measures Peter offered no opinion. He looked vaguely +round the big kitchen as though in search of something that used to be +there, and said-- + +"How about supper?" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +HOW THEY WENT THROUGH THE DARKNESS OF THE NARROW WAY + + +One dark night Gard sauntered down the cutting towards the Coupée, +enjoying a last pipe before turning in. + +This had become something of a habit with him. The people of Plaisance, +hard at work all day in the fields, went early to bed and left him to +follow when he pleased. And to stand securely in that deep cleft, just +where the protecting walls broke off short and left the narrow path to +waver on into the darkness, was always fascinating to him. + +When the moon flooded the gulf on the left with shimmering silver, and +the waves broke along the black rocks below in crisp white foam like +silver frost, he would stand by the hour there and never tire of it. + +The moon cast such a mystic glamour over those great voids of darkness +and over the headlands, melting softly away, fold behind fold, on the +right, while Little Sark became a mystery land into which the white path +rambled enticingly and invited one to follow. + +And to him, as his eyes followed it till it disappeared over the crown +of the ridge, it was more than a mystery land--a land of promise, rich +in La Closerie and Nance. + +Always within him, as he watched, was the feeling that if the sweet +slim figure should come tripping down the moonlit path towards him, he +would be in no way astonished. When he stood there, watching, it seemed +to him that it would be entirely fitting for her to come so, in the calm +soft light that was as pure and sweet as herself. + +And at times his eye would light on the grim black pile of L'Etat, lying +out there in the silvery shimmer like some great monumental cairn, a +rough and rugged heap of loneliness and mystery--the grimmer and +lonelier by reason of the twinkling brightness of its setting. And then +his thoughts would play about the lonely pile, and come back with a +sense of homely relief to the fairy path which Nance's little feet had +trod, in light and dark, and storm and shine, since ever she could walk. + +He pictured her as a tiny girl running fearlessly across the grim +pathway to school, dancing in the sunshine, bending to the storm, and +all alone when she had been kept in--he wondered with a smile what she +had been kept in for. + +He thought of her, as he had seen her, walking to church, her usually +blithe spirit tuned to sedateness by the very fact, and, to him, +delightfully stiffened by the further fact that she, almost alone among +her friends and school-fellows, wore Island costume, while all the rest +flaunted it in all the colours of the rainbow. And he laughed happily to +himself, for very joy, at thought of the sweet elusive face in the +shadow of the great sun-bonnet. There was not a face in all Sark to +compare with it, nor, for him, in all the world. + +But this night, as be stood there pulling slowly at his pipe and +thinking of Nance, was one of the black nights. + +Later on there would be a remnant of a moon, but as yet the sky above +was an ebon vault without a star, and the gulfs at his feet were pits of +darkness out of which rose the voices of the sea in solemn rhythmic +cadence. + +Down in Grande Grève, on his right, the waves rolled in almost without a +sound, as though they feared to disturb the darkness. From the +intervening moments he could tell how slowly they crept to their curve. +Their fall was a soft sibilation, a long-drawn sigh. The ever-restless +sea for once seemed falling to sleep. + +And then, as he listened into the darkness, a tiny elfish glimmer +flickered in the void below, flickered and was gone, and he rubbed his +eyes for playing him tricks. But the next wave broke slowly round the +wide curve of the bay in a crescent of lambent flame, and a flood of +soft, blue-green fire ran swelling up the beach and then with a sigh +drew slowly back, and all was dark again. Again and again--each wave was +a miracle of mystic beauty, and he stood there entranced long after his +pipe had gone dead. + +And as he stood gazing down at the wonder of it, his ear caught the +sound of quick light footsteps coming towards him across the Coupée, and +he marvelled at the intrepidity of this late traveller. If he had had to +go across there that night, he would have gone step by step, with +caution and a lantern; whereas here was no hesitation, but haste and +assurance. + +It was only when she had passed the last bastion, and was almost upon +him, that he made out that it was a girl. + +His heart gave a jump. She had been so much in his thought. Yet, even +so, it was almost at a venture that he said-- + +"Nance?" + +And yet, again, he had learned to recognize her footsteps at the farm, +and where the heart is given the senses are subtly acute, and she had +slackened her pace somewhat as she drew near. + +"Yes; I am going to the doctor." + +"Why--who--?" + +"Grannie is ill--in pain. He will give me something to ease her." He had +turned and was walking by her side. + +"I am sorry. You will let me go with you?" + +"There is no need at all--" + +"No need, I know; but all the same it would be a pleasure to me to see +you safely there and back." + +She hurried on without speaking. If there had been any light, and he had +dared to peep inside the black sun-bonnet, he might perhaps have found +the hint of a smile overlaying her anxiety on Grannie's account. + +By the ampler feel of things, and the easing of the slope, he knew they +were out of the cutting, and presently they were passing Plaisance. + +"If you would sooner I did not walk with you, I will fall behind; but I +couldn't stop here and think of you going on alone," he said. + +"That would be foolishness," she said gently. "But there is really no +need. I have no fears of ghosts or anything like that." + +"There might be other kinds of spirits about," he said quietly. "And +when men drink as some of my fellows do, they are no respecters of +persons. But this is surely very sudden. Your grandmother seemed all +right at dinner-time." + +"She had bad pains in the afternoon, and they have been getting worse. +She did not want to have the doctor, but the things she took did her no +good, and mother said I had better go and ask him for something more." + +"And where is Bernel?" + +"He went to the fishing with Billy Mollet, and he was not back." + +"And suppose the doctor is not in?" + +"They will know where he is, and I will go after him." + +"Did you see those wonderful waves of fire as you came across the +Coupée?" + +"I have seen them often. When there is more sea on, and it breaks on the +rocks, it is finer still. It is something in the water, Mr. Cachemaille +told me." + +"I heard your footsteps down there on the Coupée, but I couldn't see a +sign of you till you were almost against me." + +"I saw from the other side that some one was there, but I could not see +who." + +"You have most wonderful eyes in Sark." + +"It is never quite dark to me on the darkest night. I suppose it is with +being used to it." + +"You'll have to help me across the Coupée." + +"And how will you get back?" + +"The moon will be up, and then I can see all right. I don't need much +light, but I've not been brought up to see through solid black." + +The doctor was fortunately in, and knew by ample experience what would +ease Grannie's pains. So presently they were hurrying back along the +dark road. + +As they turned the corner by Vauroque an open doer cast a great shaft +of light across the darkness, and there, just as on a previous occasion, +on the wall lounged half-a-dozen men, and among them was Tom Hamon, who +had come up to have a drink with his friend Peter. + +At sight of him, Nance bent her head and tried to shrink into herself as +she hurried past. + +But Tom had seen her, and the sight of her alone with Gard at that time +of night roused the virtuous indignation, and other more potent spirits, +within him. + +He sprang down into the road, shouting what sounded like a spate of +curses in the patois. + +Gard stopped and turned, with a keen recollection of the same thing +having happened before. He remembered too how that occasion ended. + +But Nance laid an entreating hand on his arm. + +"Please--don't!" + +Her voice sounded a little strange to him. If he had been able to see +her face now he would have found it pallid, in spite of its usual +healthy brown bloom. + +She stood entreatingly till he turned and went on with her. + +"He is evidently aching for another thrashing," he said grimly, as he +stalked beside her. + +And presently they were in the cutting, and the unnerving vastness of +the gulfs opened out on either side. Gard felt like a blindfolded man +stumbling along a plank. + +He involuntarily put out a groping hand and took hold of her cloak. A +little hand slipped out of the cloak and took his in charge, and so they +went through the darkness of the narrow way. + +He breathed more freely when the further slope was reached, and only +then became aware that the hand that held his was all of a tremble. The +next moment he perceived that she was sobbing quietly. + +"Nance!" he cried. "What is it? You are crying. Is it anything I--" + +"No, no, no!" sobbed the wounded soul convulsively. + +"What then? Tell me!" + +"I cannot. I cannot." + +"Nance--dear!" and he sought her hand again and stood holding it firmly. +"It is like stabs in my heart to hear you sobbing. I would give my life +to save you from trouble. Do you believe me, dear?" + +"Yes, yes--" + +"And you can trust me, dear, can you not? You distrusted me at first, I +know, but--" + +"Oh, I do trust you, and I know you are good. And it is that that makes +it so wicked of him to say such things about us--" + +In her excitement she had let slip more than she intended. She stopped +abruptly. + +"Tom?" + +She did not speak, but the wound welled open in another sob. + +"Don't trouble about him, dear! I don't know what he said, but if it was +meant to make you doubt me, it was not true. You are more to me than +anything in the world, Nance, and I have never loved any other +woman--except my mother. Do you believe me?" + +"Yes--oh, yes! I cannot help believing you. Oh, I wish sometimes that +Tom was dead. When I was very little I used to pray each night to God to +kill him." + +"I'll teach him to leave you alone." + +"I must go now. Grannie is waiting for her medicine." + +He took the little hand under his arm and pressed it close to his side, +and they pushed on down the dark lanes till they came in sight of the +lights of La Closerie. + +Then he bent into the sun-bonnet and sealed his capture of the virginal +fortress by a passionate kiss on the tremulous little lips. And she, +with the frankness of a child, reached up and kissed him warmly back. + +"Good-night, dear, and God bless you!" he said fervently. + +"Can you find your way in the dark?" + +"There is the moon. I shall be all right." + +She bent her head and ran on towards the lights. He watched her go in at +the door, and turned and went back along the lane, and his heart was +high with the joy that was in him. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +HOW TWO FELL OUT + + +It was but a thin strip of a moon that had risen above the evening +mists--a mere sickle of red gold--but such as it was it sufficed to lift +the pall of darkness from the earth and set the black sky back into its +proper place. + +To Gard the night had suddenly become spacious and ample, and the +peaceful slip of a moon, which grew paler and brighter every minute, was +full of promise. + +He was so full of Nance that he had almost forgotten Tom and his +scurrilous insolences. + +He crossed the Coupée without any difficulty, enjoyed over again the +recollection of that last crossing, and stood in the cutting on the Sark +side for a moment to marvel at the change an hour had made in his +outlook on things in general. + +Tom? Why, he could almost forgive Tom, for it was he who had helped to +bring matters to a head--unconsciously, indeed, and probably quite +against his wish. Still, he had been the instrument--the drop of acid in +the solution which had crystallized their love into set form and made it +visible, and fixed it for life. + +Truly, he was half inclined to consider himself under obligation to +Tom--if only his boorishness could be kept in check for the future. For, +of a certainty, he was not going to allow Nance to be made miserable by +his loutish insolences. + +He had climbed the cutting and was on the level, when he heard heavy +footsteps coming towards him, and the next moment he was face to face +with the object of his thoughts. + +Possibly Tom had expected to meet him and had been preparing for the +fray, for he opened at once with a volley of patois which to Gard was so +much blank cartridge. + +"Oh--ho, le velas--corrupteur! Amuseur! Séducteur! Ou quais noutre +fille? Quais qu'on avait fait d'elle d'on?" + +"Quite finished?" asked Gard quietly, as the other came to a stop for +want of breath. "Say it all over again in English, and I'll know what +you're talking about." + +"English be----!" he broke out afresh, in a turgid mixture of tongues. +"Séducteur, amuseur! Where's our Nance? Gaderabotin, what have you done +with the girl? I know you, corrupteur! Running after men's wives--and +our Nance, too! See then--you touch la garche and I'll--" + +"See here! We've had enough of this," said Gard, gripping him by the +shoulders and shaking him. "If you weren't drunk I'd thrash you within +an inch of your life, you brute. Come back when you're sober, and I'll +give you a lesson in manners." + +Tom had been struggling to get his arms up. At last he wrenched himself +free and came on like a bull. One of his flailing fists caught Gard +across the face, flattening his nose and filling one eye with stars; the +other hand, trying to grip his opponent, ripped open his coat, tearing +away both button and cloth. + +"You lout!" cried Gard, his blood up and dripping also from his nose. +"If you must have it, you shall;" and he squared up to him to administer +righteous punishment. + +And then the futility of it came upon him. The man was three-parts +drunk, in no condition for a fight, scarce able to attempt even to +defend himself. + +No punishment of Tom drunk would have the slightest moral effect on Tom +sober. He would remember nothing about it in the morning, except that he +had been knocked about. + +When he received his next lesson in deportment it was Gard's earnest +desire and hope that it might prove a lasting and final one. + +So he decided to postpone it, and contented himself with warding and +dodging his furious lunges and rushes, and gave him no blow in return. +Until, at last, after one or two heavy falls of his own occasioning, Tom +gave it up, spluttered a final commination on his opponent, and turned +to go home. + +He went blunderingly down into the hollow way, and Gard stood watching +him in doubt. + +It seemed hardly possible he could cross the Coupée in that state, and +he felt a sort of moral responsibility towards him. Much as he detested +him, he had no wish to see him go reeling over into Coupée bay. + +So he set off after him to see him safely across, and Tom, hearing him +coming, groped in the crumbling side wall till he found a rock of size, +and sent it hurling up the path with another curse. + +Then he blundered on, and Gard followed. And Tom stopped again by one of +the pinnacles and sought another rock, and flung it, and it dropped +slowly from point to point till it landed on the shingle three hundred +feet below. + +He stood there in the dim light, cursing volubly in patois and shaking +his fist at Gard; but at last, to Gard's great relief, he humped his +back and stumbled away up the cutting on the further side. + +And Gard, very sick of it all, and with an aching head and a very tender +nose, but withal with a warm glow at the heart which no aches or pains +could damp down, turned and went home to bed. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +HOW ONE FELL OVER + + +Gard's first waking thoughts next morning were of Nance entirely. + +He would see her at dinner-time. How would he find her? Last night the +disturbance of her feelings had shaken her out of herself somewhat, and +shown her to him in new and delightful lights. + +If, this morning, she should be to some extent withdrawn again into her +natural modest shell, he would not be surprised; and he made up his +mind, then and there, to be in no wise disappointed. Last night was a +fact, a delightful fact, on which to build the rosy future. + +It was a long time to wait till dinner-time to see her. What if he went +round that way, before going to work, just to inquire if Tom got home +all right. + +And then the feeling of discomfort in his eye and nose, as though the +one had shrunk to the size of a pin-point and the other had grown to the +bulk of a turnip--brought back the whole matter, and on further +consideration he decided not to go to the farm till the proper time. If +he came across Tom, the fray would inevitably be resumed at once, and +his right eye, at the moment, showed a decided disinclination to open to +its usual extent, or to perform any of the functions properly demanded +of a right eye contemplating battle. + +He must get up at once and bathe it and bring it to reason. + +Raw beef, he believed, was the correct treatment under the +circumstances. But raw beef was almost as obtainable as raw moon, and +even raw mutton he did not know where he could procure, nor whether it +would answer the purpose. + +So he bathed his bruises with much water, and reduced their excesses to +some extent, but not enough to escape the eye of his hostess when he +appeared at breakfast. + +"Bin fighting?" she queried dispassionately. + +"A one-sided fight. Tom Hamon was drunk last night and hit me in the +face, but he was not in a condition to fight or I'd have taught him +better manners." + +"He's a rough piece," with a disparaging shake of the head. "It'd take a +lot to knock him into shape. Try this," and she delved among her stores, +and found him an ointment of her own compounding which took some of the +soreness out of his bruises. + +But black eyes and swollen noses are impertinently obtrusive and +disdainful of disguise, and the captain's battle-flags provoked no +little jocosity among his men that morning. + +"Run up against su'then, cap'n?" asked John Hamon the engineer, who was +one of the few who sided with him. + +"Yes, against a drunken fist in the dark. When it's sober I'm going to +give it a lesson in manners." + +"Drunken fisses is hard to teach. You'll have your hands full, cap'n." + +It seemed an unusually long morning, but dinner-time came at last and he +hastened across to the farm, eager for the first sight of the sweet shy +face hiding in the big sun-bonnet. + +Quite contrary to his expectations Nance came hurrying to meet him. She +had evidently been on the watch for him. Still more to his surprise, her +face, instead of that look of shy reserve which he had been prepared +for, was full of anxious questioning. The large dark eyes were full of +something he had never seen in them before. + +"Why--Nance--dear! What is the matter?" he asked quickly. + +"Did you meet Tom again last night? Oh," at nearer sight of his bruised +face, "you did, you did!" + +"Yes, dear, I did. Or rather he met me--as you see." + +"Did you fight with him?" she panted. + +"He was too drunk to fight. He ran at me and gave me this, and my first +inclination was to give him a sound thrashing. Then I saw it would be no +good, in the condition he was in, so I just kept him at arm's length +till he tired of it. He went off at last, and I was so afraid he might +tumble off the Coupée that I followed him, and he hurled rocks at me +whenever he came to a stand. But he got across all right, and I went +back and went to bed. Now, what's all the trouble about?" + +"He never came home," she jerked, with a catch in her voice which +thought only of Tom had never put there. + +"Never came home?" + +"And they're all out looking for him." + +"I wonder if he went back to Peter Mauger's.... If he tried to cross +that Coupée again--in the condition he was in--" + +"He didn't go back to Peter's. Julie went there first of all to ask." + +"Good Lord, what can have become of him?" + +The answer came unexpectedly round the corner of the house--Julie +Hamon, in a state of utmost dishevelment and agitation, which turned +instantly to venomous fury at the sight of Gard and Nance. + +Her black hair seemed all a-bristle. Her black eyes flamed. Her dark +face worked like a quicksand. Her skirts were wet to the waist. Her +jacket was open at the top, as though she had wrenched at it in a fit of +choking. Her strong bare throat throbbed convulsively. Her hands, half +closed at her side, looked as though they wanted something to claw. + +"Did you do it?" she cried hoarsely, stalking up to Gard. + +"Do what?" + +"Kill him." + +"Tom?... You don't mean to say--" + +"You ought to know. He's there in the school-house, broken to a jelly +and his head staved in. And they say it's you he fought with last night. +The marks of it are on your face"--her voice rose to a scream--"Murderer! +Murderer! Murderer!" + +"You wicked--thing!" cried Nance, pale to the lips. + +"You--you--you!" foamed Julie. "You're as bad as he is. Because my man +tried to save you from that--murderer--" + +"Oh, you--wicked!--You're crazy," cried Nance, rushing at her as though +to make an end of her. + +And Julie, mad with the strain of the night's anxieties and their abrupt +and terrible ending, uncurled her claws and struck at her with a +snarl--tore off her sun-bonnet, and would have ripped up her face, if +Gard had not flung his arms round her from the back and dragged her +screaming and kicking towards her own door. + +Mrs. Hamon had come running out at sound of the fray. Gard whirled the +mad woman into her own house and Mrs. Hamon followed her and closed the +door. + +Gard turned to look for Nance. + +She was nervously trying to tie on her sun-bonnet by one string. + +"Nance, dear," he said, "you don't believe I had anything to do with +this?" + +"Oh no, no! I'm sure you hadn't. But--" + +"But?" he asked, looking down into the pale face and bright anxious +eyes. + +"Oh, they may say you did it. They will think it. They are sure to think +it, and they are so--" + +"Don't trouble about it, dear. I know no more about it than you do, and +they cannot get beyond that. Promise me you won't let it trouble you." + +"Oh, I will try. But--" + +"Have no fears on my account, Nance. I will go at once and tell them all +I know about it." + +He pressed her hands reassuringly, and she went into the house with +downcast head and a face full of forebodings, and he set off at once for +Sark. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +HOW TOM WENT TO SCHOOL FOR THE LAST TIME + + +Mrs. Tom had had a troubled night. Anxiety at her husband's continued +absence had in due time given way to anger, and anger in its turn to +anxiety again. + +In a state of mind compounded of these wearing emotions, she had set out +in the early morning to find out what had become of him; if he was +sleeping off a drunken debauch at Peter Mauger's, to give them both a +vigorous piece of her mind; if he was not there, to find out where he +was; in any case to vent on some one the pent-up feelings of the night. + +Vigorous hammering on Peter Mauger's door produced first his old +housekeeper, and presently himself, heavy-eyed, dull-witted, and in +flagrant dishabille, since Mrs. Guille had but a moment ago shaken him +out of the sleep of those who drink not wisely over-night, with the +information that a crazy woman wanted him at the door. + +"Where's Tom?" demanded Julie, ready to empty the vials of her wrath on +the delinquent as soon as he was produced. + +But Peter's manner at once dissipated that expectation. + +"Tom?" he said vaguely, and gazed at her with a bovine stupidity that +jarred her strained nerves like a blow. + +"Yes, Tom--my husband, fool! Where is he?" she asked sharply. + +"Where is he?" scratching his tousled head to quicken his wits. "I d'n +know." + +"You don't know? What did you do with him last night, you drunken +fool?"--by this time the neighbours had come out to learn the news. + +Peter gaped at her in astonishment, his muddled wits and aching head +beginning dimly to realize that something was wrong. + +"Tom left here ... last night ... t'go home," he nodded emphatically. + +"Well, he never got home," snapped Julie. "And you'd best get your +clothes on and help me find him. You were both as drunk as pigs, I +suppose. If he's lying dead in a ditch it's you that'll have the blame." + +"Aw now, Julie!" + +"Don't Julie me, you fool! Get dressed and do something." + +"I'll come. You wait," and he went inside, and put his head into a basin +of water, and threw on his clothes, and came out presently looking +anxious and disturbed now that his sluggish brain had begun to work. + +"Where you been looking?" he asked. + +"Nowhere. I expected to find him here." + +"We had a glass or two and then he started off home. He could walk all +right.... Did you.... You didn't see anything wrong ... anything ... at +the Coupée?" he asked, with a quick anxious look at her. + +"No, I didn't. What do you mean? Oh, mon Dieu!" and she started down the +road at a run, with Peter lumbering after her and the neighbours in a +buzzing tail behind. + +The cold douche had cooled Peter's hot head, the running quickened his +blood and his thoughts, a sudden grim fear braced his brain to quite +unusual activity. + +As he ran he recalled the events of the night before; their meeting with +Gard and Nance; Tom's scurrilous insults. + +If Tom and Gard had met again--Gard would be sure to see Nance home. Had +he met Tom on his way back? And if so--if so--and ill had come to +Tom--why, Gard might get the blame. And--and--in short, though by +zig-zag jerks as he ran--if Gard were out of the way for good and all, +Nance's thoughts might turn to one nearer home. He would be sorry if ill +had come to Tom, of course. But if Gard could be got rid of he would be +most uncommonly glad. + +And as he panted after Julie, head down with the burden of much +thinking, just before he reached the sunk way to the Coupée, his eye +lighted on something in the road that caused him to stop and bend--a +button with a scrap of blue cloth attached. He picked it up hastily and +put it in his pocket. On a white stone just by it there were some +red-brown spots. He pushed it with his foot to the side of the road and +was down into the cutting before the heavy-footed neighbours came up. + +Julie was ranging up and down the narrow pathway, searching the depths +with a face like a hawk, hanging on to the rough sides of the pinnacles, +and bending over in a way that elicited warning cries from the others as +they came streaming down. + +But keenest search of the western slope revealed nothing amid its tangle +of gorse and blackberry bushes, and the eastern cliff fell so sheer, and +had so many projecting lumps and underfalls, that it was impossible to +see close in to the foot. + +And then one, nimbler witted than the rest, climbed out along the common +above the northern cliff, whereby, when he had come to the great slope, +he took the Coupée cliff in flank, and could spy along its base. + +And suddenly he stopped, and stiffened like a pointer sighting his bird, +peered intently for a moment, and gave tongue. + +The chase was ended. That they had sought, and feared to find, was +found. + +They came hurrying up, and clustered like cormorants on the slope, Julie +among them, her face grim and livid in its black setting, her eyes +blazing fiercely. + +The finder pointed it out. They all saw it--a huddled black heap close +in under the cliff. + +Elevated by his discovery, the finder maintained his reputation by doing +the only thing that could be done. He left them talking and sped away +across the downs, across the fields, towards Creux harbour. + +He might, if he had known it, have found a boat nearer at hand, Rouge +Terrier way or in Brenière Bay. But he was a Sark man, and a farmer at +that, and knew little and cared less, of the habits of Little Sark. + +And the rest, falling to his idea, streamed after him, for that which +lay under the cliff could only be gotten out by boat. + +So to the Creux, panting the news as he went. And there, willing hands +dragged a boat rasping down the shingle, and lusty arms, four men rowing +and one astern sculling and steering at the same time, sent her bounding +over the water as though it were life she sought, not death. For, though +no man among them had any smallest hope of finding life in that which +lay under the cliff, yet must they strain every muscle, till the +labouring boat seemed to share their anxiety to get there and learn the +worst. + +So, out past the Lâches, with the tide boiling round the point; past +Derrible, with its yawning black mouths; past Dixcart with its patch of +sand; under the grim bastions of the Cagnon; the clean grey cliffs and +green downs above, all smiling in the morning sun; the clear green water +creaming among the black boulders, hissing among their girdles of tawny +sea-weeds, cascading merrily down their rifted sides; round the +Convanche corner, so deftly close that the beauty of the water cave is +bared to them, if they had eye or thought for anything but that which +lies under the cliff in Coupée Bay. And not a word said all the way--not +one word. Jokes and laughter go with the boat as a rule, and +high-pitched nasal patois talk; but here--not a word. + +The prow runs grating up the shingle, the heavy feet grind through it +all in a line, for none of them has any desire to be first. Together +they bend over that which had been Tom Hamon, and their faces are grim +and hard as the rocks about them. Not that they are indifferent, but +that any show of feeling would be looked upon as a sign of weakness. + +Under such circumstances men at times give vent to jocularities which +sound coarse and shocking. But they are not meant so--simply the protest +of the rough spirit at being thought capable of such unmanly weakness as +feeling. + +But these men were elementally silent. One look had shown them there was +nothing to be done but that which they had come to do--to carry what +they had found back to the waiting crowd at the Creux. + +They had none of them cared much for this man. He was not a man to make +close friends. But death had given him a new dignity among them, and the +rough hands lifted him, and bore him to the boat as tenderly as though a +jar or a stumble might add to his pains. + +And so, but with slower strokes now, as though that slight additional +burden, that single passenger, weighed them to the water's edge, they +crawl slowly back the way they came, logged, not with water, but with +the presence of death. + +The narrow beach between the tawny headlands is black with people. Up +above, on the edge of the cliff, another crowd peers curiously down. + +The Sénéchal is there at the water's edge, Philip Guille of La Ville, +and the Greffier, William Robert, who is also the schoolmaster, and +Thomas Le Masurier the Prévôt, and Elie Guille the Constable, and Dr. +Stradling from Dixcart, and the dark-faced, fierce-eyed woman who cannot +keep still, but ranges to and fro in the lip of the tide, and whom they +all know now as the wife--the Frenchwoman, though some of them have +never seen her before. + +A buzz runs round as the boat comes slowly past the point of the Lâches. +The woman stops her caged-beast walk and stands gazing fiercely at it, +as if she would tear its secret out of it before it touched the shore. + +The watchers on the cliff have the advantage. Something like a thrill +runs through them, something between a sigh and a groan breaks from +them. + +The woman wades out to meet the boat. She sees and screams, and chokes. +The wives on the beach groan in sympathy. + +The body is lifted carefully out and laid on the cool grey stones, and +the woman stands looking at it as a tiger may look at her slaughtered +mate. + +"Stand back! Stand back!" cries the Sénéchal to the thronging crowd; and +to the Constable, "Keep them back, you, Elie Guille!" to which Elie +Guille growls, "Par madé, but that's not easy, see you!" + +The Doctor straightens up from his brief examination, and says a word to +the Sénéchal, and to the men about him. + +A rough stretcher is made out of a couple of oars and a sail, and the +sombre procession passes through the gloomy old tunnel into the Creux +Road, and wends its way up to the school-house for proper inquiry to be +made as to how Tom Hamon came by his death. + +And close behind the stretcher walks the dark-faced woman, with her eyes +like coals of fire, and her dress dragged open as though to stop her +from choking. + +"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!" she says in perpetual +iteration, through her clenched teeth. But to look at her face and eyes +you might think it was rather the devil she was calling on. + +For, ungracious as their lives had been in many respects, yet this +violent breaking of the yoke has left the survivor sore and wounded, and +furious to vent her rage on whom at present she knows not. + +She is not allowed inside the school-house--hastily cleared of its usual +occupants, who dodge about among the crowd outside, enjoying the +unlooked-for holiday with gusto in spite of its gruesome origin--and so +she prowls about outside, and the neighbours talk and she hears this, +that, and the other, and presently, with bitter, black face and rage in +her heart, she goes off home to find out Stephen Gard if she can, and +accuse him to his face of the murder of her husband. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +HOW PETER'S DIPLOMACY CAME TO NOUGHT + + +Peter Mauger had kept himself carefully beyond the range of Julie's wild +black eyes. In the state she was in there was no knowing what she might +do or say. And the words even of a mad woman sometimes stick like burrs. +He began to breathe more freely when she whirled away home. + +The Sénéchal and Constable came out of the school-house at last with +very grave faces. + +"The Doctor says his head was staved in with the blows of some round +blunt thing like a mallet," said the Sénéchal to the gaping crowd, "and +we must hold a proper inquiry. Any of you who saw Tom Hamon last night +will be here at two o'clock to tell us all you know. Tell any others who +know anything about it that they must be here too," and he went back +into the school-house, and the buzzing crowd dispersed, with plenty to +buzz about now in truth. + +Peter Mauger went thoughtfully home. He had had no breakfast, and was +feeling the need of it, and he had something in his mind that he wanted +to think out. + +And as he ate he thought, slowly and ruminatingly, and with many pauses, +when his jaws stopped working to give his mind freer play, but still +very much to the purpose, and as soon as he had done he set out to put +his project into execution. + +Just beyond the Coupée he met Gard hurrying towards Sark, and the state +of Gard's nose and eye, and his torn coat, caught his eye at once. + +"What's this about Tom Hamon?" asked Gard hastily. + +"He's dead." + +"His wife has just told me so. But how did it happen?" + +"They're going to find out at school-house at two o'clock. Any that saw +him last night are to be there. You'd better be there." + +"I'm going now." + +"All right," said Peter, and went on his way into Little Sark. + +His way took him to La Closerie. But he was not anxious to meet Mrs. +Tom, so he hung about behind the hedges till Nance happened to come out +of the house, and then he whistled softly and beckoned to her to come to +him. + +Her face was very pale and troubled, and he saw she had been crying. + +"I want to speak to you," he said. + +"What is it?" + +"Come round here. It's important." + +"What is it?" she asked wearily again, when she had joined him behind +the green dyke. + +"It's this, Nance. You--you know I want you. I've always wanted you--" + +"Oh--don't!" she cried, with protesting hand. "This is no time. Peter +Mauger, for--" + +"Wait a bit! Here's how it is. Doctor says Tom was killed by some one +beating his head in with a hammer or something of the kind. Now who beat +his head in? Who would be most likely to beat his head in? Not me, for +we were mates. Some one that hated him. Some one that he was always +quarrelling with--" Her face had grown so white that there was no colour +even in the trembling lips. She stared at him with terrified eyes. + +"You know who I mean," he said. "If it wasn't him that did it I don't +know who it was." + +"It wasn't," she jerked vehemently. + +"You'd wish so, of course. But--Look here!--I'm pretty sure they met +again last night after--" + +"Yes, they met, and Tom tried to fight him--" + +"Ah--then!" + +"And he's gone up at once, as soon as he heard that Tom was found, to +tell them all about it." + +"Aw!"--decidedly crestfallen at the wind being taken out of his sails in +this fashion. "I--I thought--maybe I could help him--" + +"Oh you did, did you?"--plucking up heart at sight of his discomfiture. +"And how were you going to help him?" + +"If he's gone to make a clean breast of it it's all up, of course. If +he'd kept it to himself--" + +"He might have run away, you mean?" + +"Safest for him, maybe. Up above Coupée there's a stone with blood on +it. And I picked up this beside it," and he hauled out the button and +the bit of blue cloth he had found. "I thought, maybe if he knew about +these he might think it safest to go." + +"Then every one would have the right to say he'd done it, and he didn't. +He knew no more about it than you did." + +"I didn't know anything about it." + +"Well, neither did he, and he's not the kind to run away." + +"Aw, well--I done my best. You'll remember that, Nance. You know what +the Sark men are. He'd be safest away. You tell him I say so," and he +pouched his discounted piece of evidence and turned and went, leaving +Nance with a heavy heart. + +For, as Peter said, she knew what the Sark men were--a law unto +themselves, and slow to move out of the deep-cut grooves of the past, +but, once stirred to boiling point, capable of going to any lengths +without consideration of consequences. + +And therein lay Gard's peril. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +HOW THE SARK MEN FELT ABOUT IT + + +Every soul in the Island that could by any means get there, was in or +outside the school-house, mostly outside, long before the clock struck +two. Never in their lives had they hurried thither like that before. + +A barricade of forms had been made across the room. Within it, at the +school-master's table, sat the Sénéchal, Philip Guille, and the Doctor, +and old Mr. Cachemaille, the Vicar, ageing rapidly since the tragic +death of his good friend, the late Seigneur; beside them stood the +Prévôt and the Greffier, behind them lay the body of Tom Hamon covered +with a sheet. + +It was a perfect day, with a cloudless blue sky and blazing sun, and all +the windows were opened wide. Those inside dripped with perspiration, +but felt cold chills below their blue guernseys each time they looked at +that stark figure with the upturned feet beneath the cold white sheet. + +Outside the barricade stood Elie Guille, the Constable, and his +understudy Abraham Baker, the Vingténier, to keep order and call the +witnesses. + +The Seigneur, Mr. Le Pelley, was away or he would undoubtedly have been +there too. In his absence the Sénéchal conducted the proceedings. + +In the front row of school-desks, scored with the deep-cut initials of +generations of Sark boys, sat the dead man's widow, tense and quivering, +her eyes consuming fires in deep black wells, her face livid, her hands +clenched still as though waiting for something to rend. + +More than one of the men who sat beside her at the desk found, with a +grim smile, his own name looking up at him out of the maltreated board. +And one nudged his neighbour and pointed to the name of Tom Hamon, cut +deeper than any of the others and with the N upside down. + +Very briefly the Sénéchal stated that they were there to find out, if +they could, how Tom Hamon came by his death, and added very gravely, in +a deep silence, that after a most careful examination of the body the +Doctor was of opinion that death had been caused, not by the fall from +the Coupée, which accounted for the dreadful bruises, but by violent +blows on the head with a hammer or some sueh thing prior to the fall. +They wanted to find out all about it. + +The Doctor stood up and confirmed what the Sénéchal had said, went +somewhat more into detail to substantiate his opinion, and ended by +saying, "The head, as it happens, is less bruised than any other part of +the body, except on the crown, and that is practically beaten in, and +not, I am prepared to swear, by a fall. These wounds were the immediate +cause of death, and they were made before he fell down the rocks. +Besides, he went down feet first. The abrasions on the legs and thighs +prove that beyond a doubt. Then again, the base of the skull is not +fractured, as it most certainly would have been if he had fallen on his +head. Death was undoubtedly the result of those wounds in the head. It +is impossible for me to say for certain with what kind of weapon they +were made, but it was probably something round and blunt." + +"Now," said the Sénéchal, when the Doctor had finished, and the hum and +the growl which followed had died down again, "will any of you who know +anything about this matter come forward and tell us all you know?" + +Stephen Gard stood up at once and all eyes settled on him. Then Peter +Mauger was pushed along from the back, with friendly thumps and growling +injunctions to speak up. But the looks bestowed on Gard were of quite a +different quality from those given to Peter, and the men at the table +could not but notice it. + +"We will take Peter Mauger first. Let him be sworn," said the Sénéchal, +and Gard sat down. + +The Greffier swore Peter in the old Island fashion--"Vous jurez par la +foi que vous devez à Dieu que vous direz la vérité, et rien que la +vérité, et tous ce que vous connaissez dans cette cause, et que Dieu +vous soit en aide! (You swear by the faith which you owe to God that you +will tell the truth, and only the truth, and all that you know +concerning this case, and so help you God!)" + +Peter put up his right hand and swore so to do. + +"Now tell us all you know," said the Sénéchal. + +And Peter ramblingly told how he and Tom had been drinking together the +night before, and how Tom had started off home and he had gone to bed. + +"Were you both drunk?" + +"Well--" + +"Very well, you were. Did you think it right to let your friend go off +in that condition when he had to cross the Coupée?" + +"I've seen him worse, many times, and no harm come to him." + +"Well, get on!" + +He told how Mrs. Tom woke him up in the morning, and how they had all +gone in search of the missing man. + +"Was it you that found him?" + +"No, it was Charles Guille of Clos Bourel. But I found something too." + +"What was it?" + +"This"--and from under his coat he drew out carefully the white stone +with its red-brown spots, and from his pocket the button and the scrap +of blue cloth. And those at the back stood up, with much noise, to see. + +The men at the table looked at these scraps of possible evidence with +interest, as they were placed before them. + +"Where did you find these things?" + +"Between Plaisance and the Coupée." + +"What do you make of them?" + +"Seemed to me those red spots might be blood. The other's a button torn +off some one's coat." + +"Have you any idea whose blood and whose coat?" + +"The blood I don't know. The button, I believe, is off Mr. Gard's +coat,"--at which another growl and hum went round. + +"And you know nothing more about the matter?" + +"That's all I know." + +"Very well. Sit down. Mr. Gard!" and Gard pushed his way among +unyielding legs and shoulders, and stood before the grave-faced men at +the table. + +They all knew him and had all come to esteem what they knew of him. They +knew also of his difficulties with his men, and that there was a certain +feeling against him in some quarters. Not one of them thought it likely +he had done this dreadful thing. But--there was no knowing to what +lengths even a decent man might go in anger. All their brows pinched a +little at sight of his torn coat and missing button. + +He was duly sworn, and the Sénéchal bade him tell all he knew of the +matter. + +"That button is mine," he said quietly, holding out the lapel of his +coat for all to see. "If there is blood on that stone it is mine +also"--at which a growling laugh of derision went round the spectators. + +Gard flushed at this unmistakable sign of hostility. The Sénéchal +threatened to turn them all out if anything of the kind happened again, +and Gard proceeded to recount in minutest detail the happenings of the +previous night--so far as they concerned himself and Tom Hamon. + +"What were you doing down at the Coupée at that time of night?" asked +the Sénéchal. + +"I had been having a smoke and was just about to turn in when I met Miss +Hamon hurrying to the Doctor's for some medicine. I asked her permission +to accompany her, and then took her home to Little Sark. It was when I +was coming back that I met Tom Hamon." + +"Yes, little Nance came to me about half-past ten," said the Doctor, "I +remember I asked her if she was not afraid to go all that way home +alone, and she said she had a friend with her." + +"Was there any specially bad feeling between you and Tom Hamon?" + +"There had always been bad feeling, but any one who knows anything about +it knows that it was not of my making." + +"Will you explain it to us?" + +"If you say I must. One does not like to say ill things of the dead." + +"We want to get to the bottom of this matter, Mr. Gard. Tell us all you +know that will help us." + +"Very well, sir, but I am sorry to have to go into that. It all began +through Tom's bad treatment of his stepmother and step-sister and +brother when I lived at La Closerie. I took sides with them and tried to +bring him to better manners. We rarely met without his flinging some +insult after me. They were generally in the patois, but I knew them to +be insults by his manner and by the way they were greeted by those who +did understand." + +"Had you met last night before you met near the Coupée?" + +"We passed Tom by La Vauroque as we came from the Doctor's. He shouted +something after us, but I did not understand it." + +"You don't know what it was that he said?" an unfortunate question on +the part of the Sénéchal, and quite unintentionally so on his part. It +necessitated the introduction of matters Gard would fain have kept out +of the enquiry. + +"Well," he said, with visible reluctance, "I learned afterwards, and by +accident, something of what he said or meant." + +"How was that, and what was it?" + +"Is it necessary to go into that? Won't it do if I say it was a very +gross insult?" + +The three at the table conferred for a moment. Then the Sénéchal said +very kindly, "I perceive we are getting on to somewhat delicate ground, +Mr. Gard, but, for your own sake. I would suggest that no occasion +should be given to any to say that you are hiding anything from the +court." + +"Very well, sir, I have nothing whatever to hide, and I have still less +to be ashamed of. I found Miss Hamon was weeping bitterly at what her +brother had said, and I tried to get her to tell me what it was, but she +would not. I said I knew it was something against me, but I hoped by +this time she had learned to know and trust me. I told her her sobs cut +me to the heart and that I would give my life to save her from trouble. +In a word, I told her I loved her, and in the excitement of the moment +she dropped a word or two that gave me an inkling of what Tom had said. +It was casting dirt at both her and myself. Then, as I came home, I met +Tom as I have told you." + +The Sénéchal considered the matter for a moment. He did not for one +moment believe that Gard had had any hand in the killing of Tom Hamon. +But he could not but perceive the hostile feeling that was abroad, and +his desire was, if possible, to allay it. + +"It is, I should think," he said gravely, "past any man's believing +that, after asking Tom's sister to marry you, you should go straight +away and kill Tom, even in the hottest of hot blood, though men at such +times do not always know what they are doing. But you, from what I have +seen and heard of you, are not such a man. I am going to ask you one +question in the hope that your answer may have the effect of setting you +right with all who hear it. Before God--had you any hand in the death of +this man?--have you any further knowledge of the matter whatever?" + +"Before God," said Gard solemnly, his uplifted right hand as steady as +a rock, "I had no hand in his death. I know nothing more whatever about +the matter." + +"I believe you," said the Sénéchal. + +"And I," said the Doctor. + +"And I," said the Vicar gravely, and with much emotion. + +But from the spectators there rose a dissentient murmur which caused the +Vicar to survey his unruly flock with mild amazement and +disapproval--much as the shepherd might if his sheep had suddenly shed +their fleeces and become wolves. + +And Julie Hamon sprang to her feet with blazing eyes, pointed a shaking +hand at Gard, and screamed: + +"Murderer! Murderer! Murderer!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +HOW SARK CRAVED BLOOD FOR BLOOD + + +Stephen Gard walked slowly down the road towards Plaisance in the lowest +of spirits. + +This strange people amongst whom he had fallen, possessed, in +pre-eminent degree, what in these later times is known as the defects of +its qualities. + +Black sheep there were, of course, as there are in every community, who +seemed all defects and possessed of no redeeming qualities whatever. +But, taken as a whole, the men of Sark were simple, honest according to +their lights, brave and hardy, very tenacious of their own ideas and +their island rights, somewhat stubborn and easier to lead than to drive, +and withal red-blooded, as the result of their ancestry, and given to a +large despite of foreigners, in which category were included all +unfortunates born outside the rugged walls of Sark. + +He had done his best among them, both for their own interests and those +of the mines, but no striving would ever make him other than a +foreigner; and in the depression of spirit consequent on the trying +experiences of the day, he gloomily pondered the idea of giving up his +post and finding a more congenial atmosphere elsewhere. + +Still, he was a Cornishman, and dour to beat. And, if he had incurred +unreasonable dislike, he had also lighted on the virgin lode of Nance's +love and trust, and that, he said to himself with a glow of gratitude, +outweighed all else. + +He had left the school-house at once when he had given his evidence, and +had heard no more of what had taken place there. The bystanders had let +him pass without any open opposition, but their faces had been hard and +unsympathetic, and he recognized that life among them would be anything +but a sunny road for some time to come. + +If the people at Plaisance had told him to clear out and find another +lodging he would not have been in the least surprised. But they had no +such thought. In common with all who really got to know him, they had +come to esteem and like him, and they had no reason to believe that he +had had anything to do with Tom Hamon's death. + +He had pondered these matters wearily till bed-time, and he turned in at +last sick of himself, and Sark, and things generally. But his brain +would not sleep, and the longer he lay and the more he tossed and +turned, the wearier he grew. + +Sleep seemed so impossible that he was half inclined to get up and dress +and go out. The cool night air and the freshness of the dawn would be +better than this sleepless unresting. Suddenly there came a sharp little +tap on his window. + +A bird, he thought, or a bat. + +The tap came again--sharp and imperative. + +He got up quietly and went to the window. The night was still dark. As +he peered into it a hand came up again and tapped once more and he +opened the window. + +"Mr. Gard!"--in a sharp whisper. + +"Nance! What is it, dear? Anything wrong?" + +"I want you--quick." + +"One minute!" and he hastily threw on his things and joined her outside. + +"What is it, Nance?" he asked anxiously, wondering what new complication +had arisen. + +"I'll tell you as we go. Come!" and they were speeding noiselessly down +the road to the Coupée. + +There she took his hand, as once before, to lead him safely across, and +her hand, he perceived, was trembling violently. + +They were half way along the narrow path when the hollow way in front +leading up into Little Sark resounded suddenly with the tramp of heavy +feet. + +"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!" panted Nance, and he could feel her turn and look +round like a hunted animal. + +"Quick!" she whispered. "Behind here! and oh, grip tight!" and she knelt +and crawled on hands and knees round the base of the nearest pinnacle. + +In those days the pinnacles which buttress the Coupée were considerably +higher and bulkier than they are now, and along their rugged flanks the +adventurous or sorely-pressed might find precarious footing. But it was +a nerve-racking experience even in the day-time when the eye could guide +the foot. Now, in the ebon-black night, it was past thinking of. + +Dazed by the suddenness and strangeness of the whole matter, and without +an inkling of what it all meant, Gard clung like a fly to the bare rock +and tried his hardest not to think of the sheer three hundred feet that +lay between him and the black beach below. + +In grim and menacing silence, save for the crunch of their heavy feet on +the crumbling pathway, the men went past, a dozen or more, as it seemed +to Gard. When the sound of them had died in the hollow on the Sark +side, Nance whispered, "Quick now! quick!" + +They crawled back into the roadway, and she took his hand in hers again +which shook more than ever, and they sped away into Little Sark. + +"Now tell me, Nance. What is it all about?" he panted, as she nipped +through an opening in a green bank and led the way towards the eastern +cliffs over by the Pot. + +"Oh--it's you they want," she gasped, and he stopped instantly and +stood, as though he would turn and go back. + +"It is no use," she jerked emphatically, between breaths, and dragged +impatiently at his arm. "You don't know our Sark men.... They do things +first and are sorry after.... Bernel heard them planning it all.... The +men from Sark were to meet these ones, and then--" + +"But," he said angrily, "running away looks like--" + +"No, no! Not here.... And it is only for a time. The truth will come +out, but it would be too late if they had got you." + +"What would they have done with me?" + +"Oh--terrible things. They are madmen when they are angry." + +He had yielded to her will, and they were speeding swiftly along the +downs. The path was quite invisible to him. He tripped and stumbled at +times on tangled roots of gorse and bracken, but she kept on swiftly and +unerringly, as though the night were light about her. + +"Where are you taking me?" he asked, as they crept past the miners' +cottages on the cliff above Rouge Terrier. + +"To Brenière.... To L'Etat.... Bernel went on to find a boat." + +And presently they were out on the bald cliff-head, and slipping and +sliding down it till they came to the ledge, below which Brenière +spreads out on the water like a giant's hand. + +Between her panting breaths Nance whistled a low soft note like the pipe +of a sea-bird. A like sound came softly up from below, and slipping and +stumbling again, they were on the beach among mighty boulders girt with +dripping sea-weed. + +Another low pipe out of the darkness, and they had found the boat and +tumbled into it, wet and bruised, and breathless. + +"Dieu merci!" said Bernel, and pulled lustily out to sea. + +The swirl of the tide caught them as they cleared Brenière Point, and +Gard crawled forward to take an oar. Nance did the same, and so set +Bernel free to scull and steer, the arrangement which dire experience +has taught the Sark men as best adapted to their rock-strewn waters and +racing currents. + +Gard's mind was in a tumult of revolt, but he sensibly drove his +feelings through his muscles to the blade of his oar, and said nothing. +Nance and Bernel were not likely to have gone to these lengths without +what seemed to them sufficient reason. + +And he remembered Nance's trembling arm on the Coupée, and her agonies +of fear on his account, and so came by degrees to a certain acceptance +of their view of matters, and therewith a feeling of gratitude for their +labours and risks on his behalf. For he did not doubt that, should the +self-appointed administrators of justice learn who had baulked them of +their prey, they would wreak upon them some of the vengeance they had +intended for himself. + +He saw that it was no light matter these two had undertaken, and as he +thought it over, and told the black welter under his oar what he thought +of these wild and hot-headed Sark men, his gratitude grew. + +The thin orange sickle of a moon rose at last, high by reason of the +mists banked thick along the horizon, and afforded them a welcome +glimmer of light--barely a glimmer indeed, rather a mere thinning of the +clinging darkness, but enough for Bernel's tutored eye. + +He took them in a cautious circuit outside the Quette d'Amont, the +eastern sentinel of L'Etat, and so, with shipped oars, by means of his +single scull astern, brought them deftly to the riven black ledges round +the corner on the south side. + +It is a precarious landing at best, and the after scramble up the +crumbling slope calls for caution even in the light of day. In that +misleading darkness, clinging with his hands and climbing on the sides +of his feet, and starting at startled feathered things that squawked and +fluttered from under his groping hands and feet, Gard found it no easy +matter to follow Nance, though she carried a great bundle and waited for +him every now and again. When he looked down next day upon the way they +had come he marvelled that they had ever reached the top in safety. + +"Wait here!" she said at last, when they had attained a somewhat level +place, and before he had breath for a word she was away down again. + +She was back presently with another bundle, and he started when she +thrust into his hands a long gun, and bade him pick up the first bundle +and follow her. The feel of the gun brought home to him, as nothing else +could have done, her and Bernel's views of possible contingencies. + +He followed her stumblingly along the rough crown of the ridge, till she +dipped down a rather smoother slope and came to a stand before what +seemed to him a heap of huge stones. + +"There is shelter in here," she said. "And these things are for your +comfort. We will bring you more to eat in a day or two--" + +"Nance, dear," he said, dropping the gun and the bundle, and laying his +hand on her slim shoulder. "I have become a sore burden to you--" + +"Oh no, no!" she said hastily. "You would have done as much for me, and +it is because--" + +"For you, dear? I would give my life for you, Nance, and here it is you +who are doing everything, and running all these risks for me." + +"It is because I know they are in the wrong. It may be only a day or +two, and they will thank me when they find out their mistake." + +"Well, I thank you and Bernel with my whole heart. Please God I may some +time be able to repay you!" + +"If you are safe, that is all we want. Now I must go. We must get back +before they miss us." + +"God keep you, dear!" and he bent and kissed her, and as before she +kissed him back with the frankness of a child. + +He was about to follow her when she turned to go, but she said +imperatively, "Stop here, or you may lose yourself in the dark. And in +the day-time do not walk on the ridge or they may see you--" + +"And the gun? What is that for?" + +"If they should come here after you, you will keep them off with it," +she said, with a spurt of the true Island spirit. "It is your life they +seek, and they are in the wrong. But no one ever comes here, and you +will not need it. Now, good-bye! And God have you in His keeping!" + +"And you, dearest--and all yours!"--and she was gone like a flitting +shadow. + +And while he still stood peering into the darkness into which she had +merged, she suddenly materialized again and was by his side. + +"I forgot. Bernel told me to tell you it throws a little high. But I +hope you won't need it. And there is fresh water among the rocks at the +south end there." + +He caught her to him again, and kissed her ardently, and then she was +gone. + +He strained his ears, fearful of hearing her slip or fall in the +darkness, but she went without displacing a stone, and he was alone with +the sickly moon, and the sombre sky, and the voices of the rising tide +along the grim black ledges of his sanctuary. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +HOW LOVE TOOK LOVE TO SANCTUARY + + +It all seemed monstrous strange to him, now that he had time to think of +the actual fact apart from the difficulties of its accomplishment. + +An hour ago he was lying in his bed at Plaisance, in low enough spirits, +indeed, at the outlook before him, but his gloomiest thought had never +plumbed depths such as this. + +He wondered briefly if so extreme a step had been really necessary. + +And then he heard again the purposeful tramp of those heavy feet on the +Coupée, and fathomed again the menace of them. + +And he felt Nance's guiding hand trembling violently in his once more, +and he said to himself that she and Bernel knew better than he how the +land lay, and that he could not have done other than he had done. + +Then he became aware that the dew was drenching him, and so he bent and +groped in the dark for the shelter Nance had spoken of. + +The strip of moon had paled as it rose, the huge white stones glimmered +faintly in it, and a darker patch below showed him where the entrance +must be. He crept into the darker patch on his hands and knees, bumping +his head violently, but once inside found room to sit upright. Snaking +out again, he laid hold of the two bundles and the gun, and dragged them +into shelter. + +What the bundles contained he could not tell in the dark, but one felt +like a thick woollen cloak, and the other like a blanket, and among +their contents he felt a loaf of bread, and a bottle and a powder-flask. +So he rolled himself up in the blanket and the cloak, and lay wondering +at the strange case in which he found himself, and so at last fell +asleep. + + * * * * * + +He woke into a dapple of light and shade which filled his wandering wits +with wonder, till, with a start, he came to himself and remembered. + +The place he was in was something like a stone bee-hive, about eight +feet across from side to side, with a rounded sloping roof rising at its +highest some four feet from the ground, and the great blocks of which it +was built fitted so ill in places that the sun shot the darkness through +and through with innumerable little white arrows of light. The dark +opening of the night was now a glowing invitation to the day. He shook +off his wraps and crawled out into the open. + +And what an open! + +He drew deep breaths of delight at the magnificence of his outlook--its +vastness, its spaciousness, its wholesome amplitude and loneliness. He +felt like a new man born solitary into a new world. + +The sky, without a cloud, was like a mighty hollowed sapphire, in which +blazed the clear white sun; and the vast plain of the sea, sweeping away +into infinity, was a still deeper blue, with here and there long swathes +of green, and here and there swift-speeding ruffles purple-black. + +A brisk easterly breeze set all the face of it a-ripple, and where the +dancing wavelets caught the sun it glanced and gleamed like sheets of +molten silver. + +"A silver sea! A silver sea!" he cried aloud, and into his mind there +flashed an incongruous comparison of the bountifulness of Nature's +silver with the pitiful grains they hacked out of her rocks with such +toil and hardship. + +Away to the south across the silver sea the Jersey cliffs shone clear in +the sunshine, and on the dimpling plain between, the black Paternosters +looked so like the sails of boats heading for Sark that he remembered +suddenly that he was in hiding, and dropped to cover alongside the great +stones of his shelter. + +But careful observation of the square black objects showed him that they +did not move, and anyway they were much too far away to see him. So he +took courage again, and, full of curiosity concerning his hiding-place, +he crept up the southern slope till he reached the ridge of the roof, so +to speak, and lay there looking over, entranced with the beauty of the +scene before him. + +The whole east coast of Sark right up to the Burons, off the Creux, lay +basking in the morning light. Dixcart and Derrible held no secrets from +him; he looked straight up their shining beaches. Their bold headlands +were like giant-fists reaching out along the water towards him. +Brenière, the nearest point to his rock, was another mighty grasping +hand, but between it and him swept a furious race of tossing, +white-capped waves, with here and there black fangs of rock which stuck +up through the green waters as though hungering for prey. + +He could just see the upper part of the miners' cottages on the cliff +above Rouge Terrier, but, beyond these and the ruined mill on Hog's +Back, not another sign of man and his toilsome, troublesome little +works. But for these, Sark, in its utter loneliness, might have been a +new-found island, and he its first discoverer. + +Ranging on, his eye rested on the shattered fragments of Little Sark, +scattered broadcast over the sea about its most southerly point--bare +black pinnacles, ragged ledges, islets, rocklets, reefs, and fangs, +every one of which seemed to stir the placid sea to wildest wrath. +Elsewhere it danced and dimpled in the sunshine, with only the long slow +heave in it to tell of the sleeping giant below, but round each rock, +and up the sides of his own huge pyramid, it swept in great green +combers shot with bubbling white, and went tumbling back upon itself in +rings of boiling foam. + +Beyond, he saw the rounded back of Jethou, and just behind it the long +line of houses in Guernsey. + +He lay long enjoying it all, with the warm sun on his back, and the +brisk wind toning his blood, but no view, however wonderful, will +satisfy a man's stomach. He had fed the day before mostly on most +unsatisfying emotions, and now he began to feel the need of something +more solid. So he crept back along the slope to find out what there was +for breakfast. + +His stores lay about the floor of his resting-place, just as he had +turned them out in the night; a couple of long loaves, a good-sized +piece of raw bacon, and another of boiled pork which he thought he +recognized, some butter in a cloth, a bottle which looked as if it might +contain spirits, the powder-flask, and a small linen bag containing +bullets, snail-shot, and percussion caps. These, with Bernel's gun and +the blanket, and the old woollen cloak, which he recognized as Mr. +Hamon's roquelaure, and his pipe, and the tobacco he happened to have +in his pouch, constituted, for the time being, his worldly possessions. + +He spread his cloak and blanket in the sun to dry and air, and, doubtful +whether his rock would supply any further provision or when more might +reach him from Sark, he proceeded to make a somewhat restricted meal of +bread and cold pork. + +The raw bacon suggested something of a problem. To cook it he must have +a fire. To have a fire he must have fuel; his tinder-box he always +carried, of course, for the new matches had not yet penetrated to Sark. +Moreover, to light a fire might be dangerous as liable to attract +attention, unless he could do it under cover where no stray gleams could +get out. + +He pondered these matters as he ate, spinning out his exiguous meal to +its uttermost crumb to make it as satisfying as possible. + +He saw his way at once to perfecting his cover. All about him where he +sat, the grey rock pushed through a thin friable soil like the bones of +an ill-buried skeleton. And everywhere in the scanty soil grew thick +little rounded cushions, half grass, half moss, varying in size from an +apple to a foot-stool, which came out whole at a pluck or a kick. After +breakfast he would plug up every hole in his shelter, and pile +half-a-dozen sizeable pieces outside with which to close the front door. +Then, if he could find anything in the shape of fuel, he saw his way to +a dinner of fried bacon, but it would have to be after dark when the +smoke would be invisible. + +But first he must find out about his water supply. + +Down at the south end, Nance had said. That must be over there, on that +almost-detached stack of rocks, where the waves seemed to break loudest. + +So, after another crawl up to the ridge to make certain that no boats +were about--for he had frequently seen them fishing in the neighbourhood +of L'Etat--he crept down the flank of his pyramid almost to sea-level to +get across to the outer pile. + +He had to pick his way with caution across a valley of black rocks, +rifted and chasmed by the fury of the waves. He could imagine--or +thought he could, but came far short of it--how the great green rollers +would thunder through that black gully in the winter storms. + +There were great wells lined all round with rich brown sea-weeds, and +narrow chasms in whose hidden depths the waters swooked and gurgled like +unseen monsters, and whose broken edges, on which he had to step, were +like the rough teeth of gigantic saws set up on end alongside one +another. + +He crawled across these rough serrations and scaled the rifted black +wall in front, and came at once on a number of shallow pools of +rain-water lying in the hollows of a mighty slab. + +But the moment his head rose above the level of the steep black wall his +ears were filled with a deafening roaring and rushing, supplemented by +most tremendous dull thuddings which shook the stack like the blows of a +mighty flail. + +From behind a further wall there rose a boiling mist, through which +lashed up white jets of spray which slanted over the rocks beyond in a +continuous torrent. + +He crawled to the further wall and looked over into a deep black gully, +some fifteen feet wide and perhaps thirty feet deep, into which, out of +a perfectly calm sea, most monstrous waves came roaring and leaping, +till the whole chasm was foaming and spuming like an over-boiling +milk-pan. In the middle of the chasm, for the further torment of the +waters, was jammed a huge black rock, against which the incoming green +avalanche dashed itself to fragments and went rocketing into the air. +The solid granite at the further end was cleft from summit to base by a +tiny rift a foot wide through which the boiling spume poured out to the +sea beyond. + +But the marvel was where those gigantic waves came from. Save for the +dancing wind-ripples and its long, slow internal pulsations, the sea was +as smooth as a pond to within twenty yards of the rocks. Then it +suddenly seemed to draw itself together, to draw itself down into itself +indeed, like a tiger compressing its springs for a leap, and then, with +a rush and a roar, it launched itself at the rocks with the weight of +the ocean behind it, and hurtled blindly into the chasm where the black +rock lay. + +It was a most wonderful sight, and Gard sat long watching it, then and +later, fascinated always and puzzled by that extraordinary +self-compression and sudden upleap of the waters out of an otherwise +placid sea. + +It was but one more odd expression of Nature's fantastic humour, and the +nearest he could come to an explanation of it was that, in the sea bed +just there, was some great fault, some huge chasm into which the waters +fell and then came leaping out to further torment on the rocks. + +It was as he was returning to his own quarters by a somewhat different +route across the valley of rocks, that he lighted on another find which +contented him greatly. + +In one of the saw-toothed chasms he saw a piece of wood sticking up, and +climbed along to get it as first contribution to his fire. And when he +got to it, down below in the gully, he found jammed the whole side of a +boat, flung up there by some high spring tide and trapped before it +could escape. Excellent wood for his firing, well tarred and fairly dry. +He hauled and pulled till he had it all safely up, and then he carried +it, load after load, to his house, and laid it out in the sun to dry +still more. + +He worked hard all day, keeping a wary outlook for any stray fishermen. + +First he culled a great heap of the thin wiry grass which seemed the +chief product of his rock, and spread it also to dry for a couch. There +was no bracken for bedding, no gorse for firing. The grass would supply +the place of the one, the broken boat the other. + +Then he made good all the holes in his walls and roof, except one in the +latter for the escape of the smoke, and built a solid wall of the tufted +cushions round the seaward side of his doorway, as a screen against his +light being seen, and as a protection from the south-west wind if it +should blow up strong in the night. + +He found it very strange to be toiling on these elemental matters, with +never a soul to speak to. He felt like a castaway on a desert island, +with the additional oddness of knowing himself to be within reach of his +kind, yet debarred from any communication with them on pain, possibly, +of death. + +At times he felt like a condemned criminal, yet knew that he had done no +wrong, and that it was only the mistaken justice of a simple people +that wanted blood for blood, and was not over-heedful as to whose blood +so long as its own sense of justice was satisfied. + +But, he kept saying to himself, things might have been worse with him, +very much worse, but for Nance and Bernel. And before long, any day, the +matter might be cleared up and himself reinstated in the opinion of the +Sark men. + +Even that would leave much to be desired, but possibly, he thought, if +they found they had sorely misjudged him in this matter, they might +realize that they had done so in other matters also, and that he had +only been striving to do his duty as he saw it. + +And then, wherever else his thoughts led him, there was always Nance, +and the thought of Nance always set his heart aglow and braced him to +patient endurance and hope. + +He retraced, again and again, all the ways they had travelled together +in these later days, recalled her every word and look, felt again the +trembling of her hand--for him--on the Coupée, heard again the tremors +of her voice as she urged him to safety. And those sweet ingenuous +kisses she had given him! Yes, indeed, he had much to be grateful for, +if some things to cavil at, in fortune's dealings. + +But, behind all his fair white thought of Nance, was always the black +background of the whole circumstances of the case, and the grim fact of +Tom Hamon's death, and he pondered this last with knitted brows from +every point of view, and strove in vain for a gleam of light on the +darkness. + +Could the Doctor be mistaken, and was Tom's death the simple result of +his fall over the Coupée? The Doctor's pronouncement, however, seemed +to leave no loophole of hope there. + +If not, then who had killed Tom, and why? + +He could think of no one. He could imagine no reason for it. + +Tom had been a bully at home, but outside he was on jovial terms with +his fellows--except only himself. He had to acknowledge to himself the +seeming justice of the popular feeling. If any man in Sark might, with +some show of reason, have been suspected of the killing of Tom Hamon, it +was himself. + +Once, by reason of overmuch groping in the dark, an awful doubt came +upon him--was it possible that, in some horrible wandering of the mind, +of which he remembered nothing, he had actually done this thing? Done it +unconsciously, in some over-boiling of hot blood into the brain, which +in its explosion had blotted out every memory of what had passed? + +It was a hideous idea, born of over-strain and overmuch groping after +non-existent threads in a blind alley. + +He tried to get outside himself, and follow Stephen Gard that night and +see if that terrible thing could have been possible to him. + +But he followed himself from point to point, and from moment to moment, +and accounted for himself to himself without any lapse whatever; unless, +indeed, his brain had played him false and he had gone out of the house +again after going into it, and followed Tom and struck him down. + +With what? The Doctor said with some blunt instrument like a hammer. +Where could he have obtained it? What had he done with it? + +The idea, while it lasted, was horrible. But he shook it off at last +and called himself a fool for his pains. He had never harboured thought +of murder in his life. He had detested Tom, but he had never gone the +length of wishing him dead. The whole idea was absurd. + +All these things he thought over as, his first essential labours +completed, he lay under the screen of the ridge and watched the sun +dropping towards Guernsey in a miracle of eventide glories. + +Below him, the long slow seas rocketted along the ragged black base of +his rock with mighty roarings and tumultuous bursts of foam, and on the +ledges the gulls and cormorants squabbled and shrieked, and took long +circling flights without fluttering a wing, to show what gulls could do, +or skimmed darkly just above the waves and into them, to show that +cormorants were never satisfied. And now and again wild flights of +red-billed puffins swept up from the water and settled out of his sight +at the eastern end of the rock, and he promised himself to look them up +some other day if opportunity offered. + +From the constant tumult of the seas about his rock, except just at low +water, he saw little fear of being taken by surprise, even if his +presence there became known. Twice only in the twenty-four hours did it +seem possible for any one to effect a landing there, and at those times +he promised himself to be on the alert. + +He lay there till the sun had gone, and the pale green and amber, and +the crimson and gold of his going had slowly passed from sea and sky, +and left them grey and cold; till a single light shone out on Sark, +which he knew must be in one of the miners' cottages, and many lights +twinkled in Guernsey; till beneath him he could no longer see the sea, +but only the white foam fury as it boiled along the rocks. Then he crept +away to his burrow, rejoicing in the thought of the companionship of a +fire and hot food. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +HOW THE STARS SANG OF HOPE + + +It took Gard some time to get his fire started, and when it did blaze +up, with fine spurts of gas from the tar, and vivid blue and green and +red flames from the salted wood, the little stone bee-hive glowed like +an oven and presently grew as hot as one. The smoke escaped but slowly +through the single hole in the roof, and at last he could stand it no +longer, and crept out into the night until his fire should have burned +down to a core of red ashes over which he could grill his dinner. + +And what a night! He had seen the stars from many parts of the earth and +sea, but never, it seemed to him, had he seen such stars as these, so +close, so large, so wonderfully clean and bright. And, indeed, glory of +the heavens so supreme as that is possible only far away from man, and +all the works and habitations of man, and all his feeble efforts at the +mitigation of the darkness. Nay, for fullest perception, it may be that +it is necessary for a man to be not only alone in the profundity of +Nature's night, but to be lifted somewhat out of himself and his natural +darkness by extremity of joy, or still more of need. + +The milky way was as white as though a mighty brush dipped in glittering +star-dust had been drawn across the velvet dome. The larger stars, many +of which were old acquaintances and known to him by name, seemed to +swing so clear and close that they took on quite a new aspect of +friendliness and cheer. The smaller--I write as he thought--a mighty +host, an innumerable company quite beyond his ken, still spoke to him in +a language that he had never forgotten. + +Long ago, when he was quite a little boy, he had come upon a great globe +of the heavens, a much-prized curiosity of his old schoolmaster. Upon it +appeared all the principal stars linked up into their constellations, +the shadowy linking lines forming the figures of the Imaginary Ones +associated with them in the minds of the ancients. There, on the +varnished round of the globe, ranged the Great and Little Bears, and the +Dogs, and the Archer, and the Flying Horse, the Lion, and the Crab, and +the Whale, and the Twins, and Perseus and Andromeda, and Cassiopeia. And +up there, on the dark inner side of the mighty dome, he seemed to see +them all again, and time swung back with him for a moment, and he was a +boy once more. + +And, gazing up at them all, their steady shine and many-coloured +twinklings led him to wonder as to the how and the why of them. From the +stars to their Maker was but a natural step, and so he came, simply and +naturally, to thought of the greatness of Him who swung these +innumerable worlds in their courses, and, from that, to His goodness and +justice. + +Memories of his mother came surging back upon him, and of all her +goodness and all she had taught him. She had had a mighty, simple trust +in the goodness of God, and had passed it on to her boy, though his +rough contact with the world had overworn it all to some extent. + +Still, it was all there, and now it all came back to him through the +hopeful twinkling eyes of those innumerable stars. + +"Have courage and hope!" they sang; and though all his little world, +save those two or three who knew him best, was against him, he stood +there with his face turned up to the stars, and believed in his heart +that all would yet be well. + +And when at last he turned back to things of earth, he found the stars +still twinkling in the sea, as though they would not let him go even +though he gave up looking at them. They gleamed and glanced in the +smooth-rolling waves till the deep seemed sown with phosphorescence, as +on that night in Grand Grève; the night Nance came upon him so suddenly +in the dark and he went on with her to get Grannie's medicine. + +Was it possible that that blessed night, that terrible night, was barely +forty-eight hours old? So much had happened since then, such incredible +things! It seemed weeks ago. It seemed like a dream; horrid, fantastic, +wonderfully sweet. + +Within that tiny span of hours he had come to the knowledge of Nance's +love for him. Oh those sweet, frank kisses! If he had died last night; +if the hot heads in their madness had killed him to balance Tom Hamon's +account--still he would have lived: for Nance had kissed him. + +And within the half of that short span he had been judged a murderer, +had had to flee for his life, and would, without a doubt, have lost it +but for Nance. + +She had undertaken a mighty risk for him--for him! And she had shown him +that she loved him, for she had kissed him with her heart in her lips. + +And, grateful as he was for all the rest, it was still the recollection +of those sweet kisses that he thought of most. + +So "Hope! Hope!" sang the stars, and his heart was high because his +conscience was clean and Nance had kissed him. + +When at last he crawled into his burrow, his fire was only white ashes, +and he would not trouble to relight it. + +He broke off a piece of bread, and ate it slowly, and thought of Nance, +and promised himself the larger breakfast. Then he rolled himself in his +cloak, and slept more soundly than an alderman after a civic feast. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +HOW NANCE SENT FOOD AND HOPE TO HIM + + +Next morning, when he crawled out of his burrow, Gard found everything +swathed in dense white mist. Upon which he promptly lit his fire, and in +due course enjoyed a more satisfying meal than he had eaten since he +landed on the rock. + +Then he decided to take advantage of the screening mist to explore such +parts of his prison-house as were not available to him at other times. +So he walked along the ridge, secure from observation since he could not +himself see down to the water from it, though the rushings and roarings +along the black ledges below never ceased. + +Every nook and ledge of the out-cropping rock on the south side of the +ridge was occupied by lady gulls in all stages of their maternal duties. +From the surprise they expressed at his intrusion, and the way they +stuck to their nests, they were evidently quite unused to man and his +ways, and it was all he could do to avoid stepping on them and their +squawking families as he picked his way along. + +He clambered down the eastern slope nearest Sark, and found the ground +there covered with a fairly deep soil, and green growths that were +strange to him. The soil was perforated with holes which at first he +ascribed to rabbits, but when he inserted his hand into one he got such +a nip from an unusually strong beak that he changed his mind to puffins, +and, standing quite still for a time, he presently saw the members of +the colony come creeping out behind their great red bills and scurry off +across the water in search of breakfast. + +Then the great semi-detached pinnacle below attracted him, and he +scrambled down amid the complaints of a great colony of gulls and +cormorants but found the tide still too full for him to cross the +intervening chasm. Those wonderful great green waves out of a smooth sea +came roaring along the sides of the island and met full tilt in the +chasm below him, as they leaped exultant from their conflict with the +rocks. They hurled themselves against one another in wildest fury, and +the foam of their meeting boiled white along the ledges, and dappled all +the sea. + +As he crawled through the lank wet grass and soft spongy soil, he found +himself suddenly confronted with a great barrier of fallen rocks; as +though, at some period of its existence, the north end of the island had +tapered to a gigantic peak which, in the fulness of its time, had come +down with a crash, and now lay like a titanic wall from summit to +sea-board. Huge and forbidding, of all shapes and sizes, the mighty +fragments barred his course like a menace, and he attacked them warily, +drawing himself with infinite caution from one to another; over this +one, under this, deftly between these two, lest an unwary weighting +should start them on the movement that might grind him to powder. + +The fog increased their forbidding aspect tenfold. He could not see a +foot before him, and could only worm his way among them, testing each +before he trusted it, and finding at times monsters become but mediocre +when his hand was on them. More than once he had to rest his hands on +cautiously-tried ledges and swing his legs forward and grope with his +feet for foothold, and whether the space below was trifling, or whether +it ran to incredible depth, he could not tell. + +It was a mighty relief to him to come out at last on the other side of +the wall, and to find himself on the great north slope which faced Sark, +and so was closed to him in clear weather. + +The long thin grass grew rankly here, and was beaded with moisture, but +he pushed along with an eerie feeling at the wildness of it all. + +The mist clung close about him, but had suddenly become luminous. He +felt as though he were packed loosely all round with cotton wool on +which a strong light was shining. It gave him a feeling of +light-headedness. Everything was light about him, and yet he could not +see more than a couple of feet before his face. The waves roared +hoarsely below him, and once he had unknowingly got so low down that a +monstrous white arm, reaching suddenly up out of the depths, seemed +about to lay hold on him and drag him back with it into the turmoil. + +He was panting and full of mist when at last he climbed the second great +rock barrier and rounded the corner towards the south. + +And as he sat resting there, the whiff of a westerly breeze tore a long +lane in the white shroud, and for a moment he saw, as through a +telescope, the houses of Guernsey gleaming in bright sunshine. Then it +closed again, and presently began to drift past him in strange whorls +and spirals, like hurrying ghosts wrapped hastily in filmy garments, +which loosed at times and trailed slowly over the rocks and caught and +clung to their sharp projections. Then the sun completed the rout, and +the mist-ghosts swept away towards France, harried by the west wind like +a flock of sheep before the shepherd's dog. + +In the afternoon the heat grew so intense that he was driven to the +wells in the valley of rocks for a bathe, for there was no shelter +available, and his bee-hive was like an oven. + +None of the pools was large enough for a swim, and it was more than a +man's life was worth to venture among the boiling surges of the outer +rocks. But he could at all events get under water, if it was only to sit +there and cool off. + +So he stripped, and was just about slipping into a deep still bath, +emerald green, with a fringe of amber weeds all round its almost +perpendicular sides, when, glancing down to make sure of an ultimate +footing, his eye lighted with a shock of surprise on a pair of huge eyes +looking straight up at him out of the water. They were violet in colour, +protuberant, and malevolent beyond words. + +He sat down suddenly on the baking black rock, with a cold shiver +running down his back in spite of the scorch of the sun. The utter cold +malignity of those great violet eyes, and the thought of what would have +happened if he had stepped into that pool, made him momentarily sick. + +He had seen small devil-fish in the pools in Sark, but never one +approaching this in size. He crept away at last, leaving it in +possession, and found a pool clear of boulders or caving hollows, and +sat in it with no great enjoyment, wondering if the great unwholesome +beast in the other would be likely to climb the cliff and come upon him +in the night. He thought it unlikely, but still the idea clung to him +and caused him no little discomfort. He blocked his door that night with +great green cushions, though he felt doubtful if they would be effective +against the wiles and strength of a devil-fish, if half that he had +heard of them was true. + +In the middle of the night--for he went to bed early, having nothing +else to do, except to watch the stars--he woke with a cold start, +feeling certain that hideous creature had crawled up the slope and was +feeling all round his house for an entrance. + +Certainly _something_ was moving about outside, and feeling over the +stones in an uncertain, searching kind of a way. And when you have been +wakened up from a nightmare in which staring devil-eyes played a +prominent part, _something_ may be anything, and as like as not the +owner of the eyes. + +But even devil-fishes in their most advanced stages have not yet +attained the power of human speech. If they speak to one another what a +horrible sound it must be! + +It was with a sigh of relief, and a sudden unstringing of the bow, that +he heard outside-- + +"Mr. Gard!" and with a lusty kick, which expressed some of his feeling, +he sent his doorway flying and crawled out after it. + +The myriad winking stars lifted the roof of the world and the darkness +somewhat, sufficient at all events for him to make out that it was not +Nance. + +"You, Bernel?" he queried, as the only possible alternative. + +"Yes, Mr. Gard. I've brought you some more things to eat." + +"Good lad! I'm a great trouble to you. Where is Nance? In the boat?" + +"No, she couldn't come. That Julie's watching her like a cat. It was she +and Peter stirred up the men against you. All day yesterday the whole +Island was out looking for you, dead or alive, and very much puzzled as +to what had become of you. And Julie's got a suspicion that we know. +They searched the house for you in spite of mother and Grannie, but they +won't forget Grannie in a hurry, and I don't think they'll come back," +and he laughed at the recollection of it. + +"What did Grannie do?" + +"She just looked at them from under that big black sun-bonnet, and +muttered things no one heard. But her eyes were like points of burning +sticks, and they all crept out one after another, afraid of they didn't +know what. But Julie's been on the watch all day, and would hardly let +us out of her sight. But she couldn't watch us both when we were not +together. So Nance got a bundle of things ready for you, and then went +out with another bundle and Julie followed her, and I slipped off here." + +"Bernel, I don't know how to thank you all! What should I have done +without you?" + +"You'd have been dead, most likely. It's not that they cared much for +Tom, you know, but they don't like the idea of a Sark man being killed +by a foreigner and no one paying for it." + +"But I'm not a foreigner--" + +"Yes you are, to them. Of course you're not a Frenchman, but all the +same you're not a Sark man. Good thing for you you'd lived with us and +we'd got to know you and like you." + +"Yes, that was a good thing indeed. I'm only sorry to have brought you +trouble and to be such a trouble to you." + +"If we thought you'd done it of course we wouldn't trouble. But we know +you couldn't have." + +"Nothing fresh has turned up?" + +"Nothing yet. But Nance says it will, sure. Truth must out, she says." + +"It's a weary while of coming out sometimes, Bernel. And I can't spend +the rest of my life here, you know." + +"She said you were to keep your heart up. You never know what may +happen." + +"Tell her I can stand it because of all her goodness to me. If I hadn't +her to think of I might go mad in time." + +"I've brought you a rabbit I snared. Nance cooked it." + +"That was good of her. Can you eat puffins' eggs?" + +"They want a bit of getting used to," laughed the boy. "But they're +better cooked than raw." + +"I can cook them. I found part of an old boat, and I've plugged up all +the holes in the shelter, and I only light a fire at night. Could I fish +here?" + +"Too big a sea close in. I've got some in the boat. I put out a line as +I came across. I'll leave you some." + +"And have you a bottle--or a bailing-tin? Anything I could bring home +some water from the pools in? I have to go over there every time I need +a drink, and in the dark it's not possible." + +"You can have the bailer. It's a new one and sound." + +"Now tell me, Bernel, if they find out I'm here what will they do?" + +"They might come across and try and take you, unless they cool down; and +that won't be so long as that Julie and Peter talk as they do. She makes +him do everything she tells him. He's a sheep." + +"And if they come across, what do you and Nance expect me to do?" + +"You've got my gun," said the boy simply. + +"Yes, I've got your gun. But do you expect me to kill some of them?" + +"They'd kill you," said Bernel, conclusively. On second thoughts, +however, he added, "But you needn't kill them. Wing one or two, and the +rest will let you be. With a gun I could keep all Sark from landing on +L'Etat." + +"Suppose they come in the night? How many landing-places are there?" + +"There's another at the end nighest Guernsey, but it's not easy. And +it's only low tide and half-ebb that lets you ashore here at all." + +"How about your boat?" + +"She's riding to a line. Tide's running up that way, but I'd better be +off." + +They stumbled through the darkness and the sleeping gulls, which woke in +fright, and volubly accused one another of nightmares and riotous +behaviour--and Bernel hauled in his boat, and handed Gard the tin dipper +and three good-sized bream. + +"If you can't eat them all at once, split them open and dry them in the +sun," he said. "They'll keep for a week that way." + +"Tell Nance I think of her every hour of the day, and I pray God the +truth may come out soon." + +"I'll tell her. It'll come out. She says so," and he pulled out into the +darkness and was gone. + +And the Solitary went back to his shelter, secure in the knowledge that +the tide was on the rise, and half-ebb would not be till well on into +next day. And he thought of Nance, and of Bernel, and of all the whole +matter again; white thoughts and black thoughts, but chiefly white +because of Nance, and Nance was a fact, while the black thoughts were +shadows confusing as the mist. + +He could only devoutly hope and pray that a clean wind might come and +put the shadows to flight and let the sun of truth shine through. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +HOW HE SAW STRANGE SIGHTS + + +Living thus face to face with Nature, and drawn through lack of other +occupation into unusually intimate association with her, Gard found his +lonely rock a centre of strange and novel experience. + +Situated as he was, even small things forced themselves largely upon his +observation and wrought themselves into his memory. He found it good to +lose himself for a time in these visible and tangible actualities, +rather than in useless efforts after an understanding of the mystery of +which he was the victim and centre. + +He had given over much time to pondering the subject of Tom Hamon's +death, but had come no nearer any reasonable solution of it. That +hideous doubt as to himself in the matter recurred at times, but he +always hastened to dissipate it by some other interest more practical +and palpable, lest it should bring him to ultimate belief in its +possibility, and so to madness. + +And so he spent hours watching that wonderful roaring cauldron on the +south stack where his water pools were. Other hours in study of the +social and domestic economies of gulls and cormorants. He saw families +of awkward little fawn-coloured squawkers force their way out of their +shells under his very eves, while indignant mothers told him what they +thought of him from a safe distance. + +He bathed regularly in the heat of the day, but always after careful +inspection of his chosen pool, and one day fled in haste up the black +rocks at sight of the tip of a long, quivering, flesh-coloured tentacle +coming curling round a rock in the close neighbourhood of the pool in +which he was basking. + +That monster under the rock gave him many a bad dream. It seemed to him +the incarnation of evil, and those horrible, bulging, merciless eyes +stuck like burrs in his memory. + +One day, when he had been watching the cauldron, and filling his tin +dipper at the freshwater pools, as he came to descend the black wall +leading to the valley of rocks, he witnessed a little tragedy. + +Down below, on the edge of the pool where the octopus dwelt, a silly +young cormorant was standing gazing into the water, so fascinated with +something it saw there that it forgot even to jerk its head in search of +understanding. + +Gard stood and watched. He saw a tiny pale worm-like thing come creeping +up the black rock on which the cormorant squatted. The cormorant saw it +too, and he was hungry, as all cormorants always are, even after a full +meal. So presently he made a jab at it with his curved beak, and in a +moment the pale worm had twisted itself tightly round his silly neck, +and dragged him screaming and fluttering under the water. + +Another day, when he was coming down by the break in the cliff, where +some great winter wave had bitten out such a slice that the top had come +tumbling down, he saw the monster sunning itself on the flat rock by the +side of its pool, like a huge nightmare spider. + +The moment he appeared its great eyes settled on his as though it had +been waiting only for him. And when he stopped, with a feeling of +shuddering discomfort at its hugeness--for its body seemed considerably +over a foot in width, while its arms lounging over the rocks were each +at least six feet long, and looked horribly muscular--he could have +sworn that one of the great devil-eyes winked familiarly at him, as +though the beast would say, "Come on, come on! Nice day for a bathe! +Just waiting for you!" + +He could see the loathsome body move as it breathed, swinging +comfortably in the support of its arms. + +In a fury of repulsion he stooped to pick up a rock, but when he hurled +it the last tentacle was just sliding into the pool, and it seemed to +him that it waved an ironical farewell before it disappeared. + +More than once fishing-boats hovered about his rock, but kept a safe +distance from the boiling underfalls, and he always lay in hiding till +they had gone. + +But he saw more gracious and beautiful things than these. + +As he lay one morning, looking over the ridge at the Sark headlands +shining in the sun--with a strong west wind driving the waves so briskly +that, Sark-like, they tossed their white crests into the air in angry +expostulation long before they met the rocks, and went roaring up them +in dazzling spouts of foam--his eye lighted on a gleam of unusual colour +on the racing green plain. It came again and again, and presently, as +the merry dance waxed wilder still, every white-cap as it tossed into +the air became a tiny rainbow, and the whole green plain was alive with +magical flutterings, of colours so dazzling that it seemed bestrewn with +dancing diamonds. A sight so wonderful that he found himself holding in +his! breath lest a puff should drive it all away. + +That same evening, too, was a glory of colour such as he had never +dreamed of. The setting sun was ruby; red, and the cloud-bank into which +he sank was all rimmed with red fire that seemed to corruscate in its +burning brilliancy. + +To Gard indeed, in the somewhat peculiar state of mind induced by his +sudden cutting-off from his kind and flinging back upon himself, it +seemed as though the blood-red sun had fallen into a vast consuming fire +behind that dark, fire-rimmed cloud, and that that was the end of it, +and it would never rise again. + +The sky, right away into the farthest east, was flaming red with a hint +of underlying smoke below the glow. The sea was a weltering bath of +blood, and the cliffs of Sark, save for the gleam of white foam at their +feet, shone as red as though they had just been bodily dipped in it. + +His lonely rock, when he looked round at it in wonder, was all +unfamiliarly red. There was a red fantastic glow in the very air, and he +himself was as red as though he had in very fact killed Tom Hamon, and +drenched himself with his blood. + +So startling and unnatural was it all, that he found himself wondering +fearfully if these outside things were really all blood-red, or whether +something had gone wrong with his brain and eyes, and only caused them +to look so to him alone, or whether it was indeed the end of all things +shaping itself slowly under his very eyes. And in that thought and fear +he was not by any means alone. + +But the wonderful red, which in its universality and intensity had +become overpowering and fearsome, faded at last, and he hailed its going +with a sigh of relief. His eyes and his brain were all right, he had not +killed Tom Hamon, and this was not the earth's last sunset. + +And again that night, as he sat on the ridge on sentinel duty till the +rising tide should lock the doors of his castle, the sea all round him +shone with phosphorescence; every breaking wave along the black plain +was a lambent gleam of lightning, and where they tore up the sides of +his rock they were like flames out of a fiery sea, so that he sat there +looking down upon a weltering band of nickering green and blue fires, +which clung to the black ledges and dripped slowly back into the +seething gleam below. + +It was all very strange and very awesome, and he wondered what it might +portend in the way of further marvels. + +And he had not long to wait. + +Far away in the Atlantic a cyclone had been raging, and carrying havoc +in its skirts. Now it was whirling towards Europe, and the puffins crept +deep into their holes, and the gulls circled with disconsolate cries, +and the cormorants crouched gloomily in lee of their snuggest ledges, +and all nature seemed waiting for the blow. + +Gard was awakened in the morning by the gale tearing at the massive +stones of his shelter as though it would carry them bodily into the sea. + +And when he crawled out, flat like a worm, the wind caught him even so, +and he had to grimp to earth and anchor himself by projecting pieces of +rock. + +Such seas as these he had never imagined round Sark; forgetting that +behind Guernsey lay thousands of miles of waters tortured past +endurance and racing now to escape the fury of the storm. + +A white lash of spray came over him as he lay, and soaked him to the +skin, and, turning his face to the storm, he saw through the chinks of +his eyes a great wavering white curtain between him and the sky line. +The south-west portion of his island, where his freshwater pools were, +and the valley of rocks, were all awash, the mighty waves roaring clean +over the south stack, and rushing up into the black sky in rockets of +flying spray. The tide had still some time to run, and he feared what it +might be like at its fullest. It seemed to him by no means impossible +that it might sweep the whole rock bare. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +HOW HE LIVED THROUGH THE GREAT STORM + + +It was a fortunate thing for Gard that the storm--the great storm from +which, for many a year afterwards, local events in Sark dated--came when +it did; two days after Bernel's visit and the replenishment of his +larder. For if he had been caught bare he must have starved. + +Eight whole days it lasted, with only two slight abatements which, while +they raised his hopes only to dash them, still served him mightily. + +During the first days he spent much of his time crouched in the lee of +his bee-hive, watching the terrific play of the waves on his own rock +and on the Sark headlands. + +He wondered if any other man had seen such a storm under such +conditions. For he was practically at sea on a rock; in the midst of the +turmoil, yet absolutely unaffected by it. + +On shipboard, thought of one's ship and possible consequences had always +interfered with fullest enjoyment of Nature's paroxysms. It was +impossible to detach one's thoughts completely and view matters entirely +from the outside. But here--he was sure his rock had suffered many an +equal torment--there was nothing to come between him and the elemental +frenzy. Nothing but--as the days of it ran on--a growing solicitude as +to what he was going to live on if it continued much longer. + +Never was Sark rabbit so completely demolished as was that one that +Nance had cooked and sent him. Before he had done with it he cracked the +very bones he had thrown away, for the sake of what was in them, and +finally chewed the softer parts of the bones themselves to cheat himself +into the belief that he was eating. + +That was after he had devoured every crumb of his bread, and finished +his three fishes to the extreme points of their tails. + +He was, I said, in the very midst of the turmoil yet unaffected by it. +But that was not so in some respects. + +Bodily, as we have seen, the storm bore hardly upon him, since +rabbit-bones and fish-tails can hardly be looked upon as a nutritious or +inviting dietary. + +But mentally and spiritually the mighty elemental upheaval was wholly +crushing and uplifting. + +As he cowered, with humming head, under the fierce unremitting rush of +the gale, and felt the great stones of his shelter tremble in it, and +watched the huge green hills of water, with their roaring white crests, +go sweeping past to crash in thunder on the cliffs of Sark, he felt +smaller than he had ever felt before--and that, as a rule, and if it +come not of self-abnegation through a man's own sin or folly, is +entirely to his good; possibly in the other case also. + +To feel infinitely small and helpless in the hands of an Infinitely +Great is a spiritual education to any man, and it was so to this man. + +He felt himself, in that universal chaos, no more than a speck of +helpless dust amid the whirling wheels of Nature's inexplicable +machinery, and clung the tighter to the simple fundamental facts of +which his heart was sure--behind and above all this was God, who held +all these things in His hand. And over there in Sark was Nance, the very +thought of whom was like a coal of fire in his heart, which all the +gales that ever blew, and all the soddened soaking of ceaseless rain +from above and ceaseless spray from below, could not even dim. + +For long-continued and relentless buffeting such as this tells upon any +man, no matter what his strength of mind or body to begin with; and a +perpetually soaked body is apt in time to sodden the soul, unless it +have something superhuman to cling to, as this man had in his simple +trust in God and the girl he loved. + +In all those stressful days, so far as he could see, the tides--which in +those parts rise and fall some forty feet, as you may see by the scoured +bases of the towering cliffs--seemed always at the full, the westerly +gale driving in the waters remorselessly and piling them up against the +land without cessation, and as though bent on its destruction. + +Great gouts of clotted foam flew over his head in clouds, and plastered +his rock with shivering sponges. The sheets of spray from his south-west +rocks lashed him incessantly. His shelter was as wet inside as out, as +he was himself. + +He felt empty and hungry at times, but never thirsty; his skin absorbed +moisture enough and to spare. But, chilled and clammed and starving, on +the fifth day when he had crawled into his wet burrow for such small +relief as it might offer from the ceaseless flailing without, he +broached his bottle of cognac and drank a little, and found himself the +better of it. + +On the evening of the third day his hopes had risen with a slight +slackening of the turmoil. He was not sure if the gale had really +abated, or if it was only that he was growing accustomed to it. But +under that belief, and the compulsion of a growling stomach, he crawled +precariously round to the eastern end of the rock where the puffins had +their holes, lying flat when the great gusts snatched at him as though +they were bent on hurling him into the water, and gliding on again in +the intervals. And there, with a piece of his firewood he managed to +extort half-a-dozen eggs from fiercely expostulating parents. The end of +his stick was bitten to fragments, but he got his eggs, and was amazed +at the size of them compared with that of their producers. + +The sight of the great wall of tumbled rocks on his right, and the +sudden remembrance of his previous passage over it, set him wondering if +it might not be possible to find better shelter in some of those +fissures across which he had had to swing himself by the hands on the +previous occasion. For this was the leeward side of the island, and the +huge bulk of it rose like a protecting shoulder between him and the +gale, whereas his bee-hive, on the exposed flank of the rock, got the +full force of it. So he scooped a hole in the friable black soil and +deposited his eggs in it and crawled along to the wall. + +The tumbled fragments looked much less fearsome than they had done in +the fog. He found no difficulty in clambering among them now, when he +could see clearly what he was about, and he wormed his way in and out, +and up and down, but could not light on any of those tricky spaces which +had seemed to him so dangerous before. + +And then, as he crawled under one huge slab, a black void lay before +him, of no great width but evidently deep. It took many minutes' +peering into the depths to accustom his eyes to the dimness. + +Then it seemed to him that the rough out jutting fragments below would +afford a holding, and he swung his feet cautiously down and felt round +for foothold. + +Carefully testing everything he touched, he let himself down, inch by +inch, assured that if he could go down he could certainly get up again. + +At first the gale still whistled through the crevices among the +boulders, but presently he found himself in a silence that was so mighty +a change from the ceaseless roar to which he was becoming accustomed, +that he felt as though stricken with deafness. Up above him the light +filtered down, tempered by the slab under which he had come, and enabled +him still to find precarious hand and foot hold. + +But presently his downward progress was barred by a rough flooring of +splintered fragments, and he stood panting and looked about him. + +His well was about twenty feet deep, he reckoned, and there were gaping +slits here and there which might lead in towards the rock or out towards +the sea. He had turned and twisted so much in his descent that it took +him some time to decide in which direction the sea might lie and in +which the rock. And, having settled that, he wriggled through a crevice +and wormed slowly on. + +He was almost in the dark now, and could only feel his way. But he was +used to groping in narrow places, and a spirit of investigation urged +him on. + +Half an hour's strenuous and cautious worming, and a thin trickle of +light glimmered ahead. He turned and worked his way back at once. + +There was no slit opposite the one he had tried, but presently, +half-way up the well, he made out an opening like the mouth of a small +adit. His back had been to it as he came down, and so he had missed it. + +He climbed up and in, and felt convinced in his own mind that this was +no simple work of nature. Nature had no doubt begun, but man had +certainly finished it. For the floor level was comparatively free from +harshness, and the outjutting projections of the sides and roof had been +tempered, and progress was not difficult. + +It was very narrow, however, and very low, and quite dark. He could only +drag himself along on his stomach like a worm. But he pushed on with all +the ardour of a discoverer. + +Was it silver? Was it smugglers? Or what? Wholly accidental formation he +was sure it was not, though he thought it likely that man's handiwork +had only turned Nature's to account. + +The fissure had probably been there from the beginning of time, or it +might be the result of numberless years of the slow wearing away of a +softer vein of rock, but some man at some time had lighted on it, and +followed it up, and with much labour had smoothed its natural asperities +and used it for his own purposes. And he was keen to learn what those +purposes were. + +To any ordinary man, accustomed to the ordinary amplitudes of life, and +freedom to stretch his arms and legs and raise his head and fill his +lungs with fresh air, a passage such as this would have been impossible. +Here and there, indeed, the walls widened somewhat through some fault in +the rook, bur for the most part his elbows grazed the sides each time he +moved them. + +Even he, used as he was to such conditions, began at last to feel them +oppressive. The whole mighty bulk of L'Etat seemed above and about him, +malignantly intent on crushing him out of existence. + +He knew that was only fancy. He had experienced it many times before. +But the nightmare feeling was there, and it needed all his will at times +to keep him from a panic attempt at retreat, when the insensate +rock-walls seemed absolutely settling down on him, and breathing was +none too easy. + +But going back meant literally going backwards, crawling out toes +foremost; for his elbows scraped the walls and his head the roof, and +turning was out of the question. The men who had made and used that +narrow way had undoubtedly gone with a purpose, and not for pleasure. +And he was bound to learn what that purpose was. + +So he set his teeth, and wormed himself slowly along, with pinched face +and tight-shut mouth, and nostrils opened wide to take in all the air +they could and let out as little as possible. And, even at that, he had +to lie still at times, pressed flat against the floor, to let some +fresher air trickle in above him. + +But at last he came to what he sought, though no whit of it could he see +when he got there. By the sudden cessation of the pressure on his sides +and head, he was aware of entrance into a larger space, and, with +forethought quickened by the exigences of his passage, he lay for a +moment to pant more freely and to think. + +His body was in the passage. He knew where the passage led out to. What +lay ahead he could not tell. + +If it was a chamber, as he expected, there might quite possibly be other +passages leading out of it. And so it would be well to make sure of +recognizing this one again before he loosed his hold on it. So he +pulled off one boot, and feeling carefully round the opening, placed it +just inside as a landmark. + +Then he groped on along the right-hand wall to learn the size of the +chamber, and was immediately thankful that his own passage was safely +marked, for he came on another opening, and another, and another, and +labelled them carefully in his mind, "One, two, three." + +It was truly eerie work, groping there in that dense darkness and utter +silence, and trying to the nerves even of one who had never known +himself guilty of such things. But, being there, he was determined to +learn all he could. + +He clung to his right-hand wall as to a life-rope. If he once got mazed +in a place like that he might never taste daylight and upper air again. + +Of the size of the chamber he could so far form no opinion. He would +have given much for a light. His flint and steel were indeed in his +pocket, but he was sodden through and through, and had no means whatever +of catching a spark if he struck one. + +Then, as he groped cautiously along past the third opening, his progress +was stayed, and not by rock. + +He was on his knees, his hands feeling blindly, but with infinite +enquiry, along the rough rock wall, when he stumbled suddenly over +something that lay along the ground. Dropping his hands to save himself +from falling, they lighted on that which lay below, and he started back +with an exclamation and a shudder. For what he had felt was like the +hair and face of a man. + +He crouched back against the wall, his heart thumping like a ship's +pump, and the blood belling in his ears, and sat so for very many +minutes; sat on, until, in that silent blackness, he could hear the +dull, far-away thud of the waves on the outer walls of the island. + +Then, by degrees, he pulled himself together. If it was indeed a man, he +was undoubtedly dead, and therefore harmless; and having learned this +much he would know more. + +So presently he groped forward, felt again the round head and soft hair, +and below it and beyond it a heap of what felt like small oblong +packages done up in wrappings of cloth and tied round with cord. + +He picked one up and handled it inquisitively, with a shrewd idea of +what might be, or might have been, inside. The cord was very loose, as +though the contents had shrunk since it was tied. As he fumbled with it +in the dark, it came open and left him no possible room for doubt as to +what those contents were. He sneezed till the top of his head seemed +like to lift, and the tears ran down his cheeks in an unceasing stream. +What had once been tobacco had powdered into snuff, and his rough +handling of the package had scattered it broadcast. + +He turned at last, and lay with his head in his arms against the wall +until the air should have time to clear, and meanwhile the sneezing had +quickened his wits. + +Here was possible tinder, and by means of those dried-up wrappings he +might procure a light. If it lasted but five minutes it might enable him +to solve the problem on which he had stumbled. + +He groped again for the opened package, and found it on the dead man's +face. The wrapper was of tarred cloth, almost perished with age, dry and +friable. Shaking out the rest of the snuff at arm's length, he picked +the stuff to pieces and shredded it into tinder. Then he felt about for +half-a-dozen more packages, carefully slipped their cords and emptied +out their contents, and getting out his flint and steel, flaked sparks +into the tinder till it caught and flared, and the interior of the +cavern leaped at him out of its darkness. + +He rolled up one of the empty wrappers like a torch, and lit it, and +looked about him. + +His first hasty glance fell on the dead man, and he got another shock +from the fact that his feet were lashed together with stout rope, and +probably his hands also, for they were behind his back, and he lay face +upward. His coat and short-clothes and buckled shoes spoke of long +by-gone days, and the skin of his face was brown and shrivelled, so that +the bones beneath showed grim and gaunt. + +Beyond him was a great heap of the same small packages of tobacco, and +alongside them a pile of small kegs. Gard lit another of his torches, +and stepped gingerly over to them. He sounded one or two, but found them +empty. Time had shrunk their stout timbers and tapped their contents. + +Then he held up his flickering light and looked quickly round this +prison-house which had turned into a tomb, and shivered, as a dim idea +of what it all meant came over him. + +It was a large, low, natural rock chamber, and all round the walls were +black slits which might mean it passages leading on into the bowels of +the island. To investigate them all would mean the work of many days. + +The dead man, the perished packages, the empty kegs--there was nothing +else, except his own boot lying in the mouth of the largest of the black +slits, as though anxious on its own account to be gone. + +The still air was already becoming heavy with the pungent smoke of his +torches. He stepped cautiously across to the body again, and picked a +couple of buttons from the coat. They came off in his hand, and when he +touched the buckles on the shoes they did the same. Then he turned and +made for his waiting shoe just as his last torch went out. + +The smell of the fresh salt air, when he wriggled out into the well, was +almost as good as a feast to him. He climbed hastily to the surface, +and, as he crept out from under the topmost slab, took careful note of +its position, and then scored with a piece of rock each stone which led +up to it. For, if ever he should need an inner sanctuary, here was one +to his hand, and evidently quite unknown to the present generation of +Sark men. + +He recovered his eggs, and crept round the shoulder of the rock. The +gale pounced on him like a tiger on its half-escaped prey. It beat him +flat, worried him, did its best to tear him off and fling him into the +sea. But--Heavens!--how sweet it was after the musty quiet of the +death-chamber below! + +Inch by inch, he worked his way back in the teeth of it, and crawled +spent into his bee-hive. Then, ravenous with his exertions, he broke one +of his eggs into his tin dipper, and forthwith emptied it outside, and +the gale swept away the awful smell of it. + +The next was as bad, and his hopes sank to nothing. + +The third, however, was all right. He mixed it with some cognac and +whipped it up with a stick, and the growlers inside fought over it +contentedly. + +He was almost afraid to try another. However, he could get more +to-morrow. So he broke the fourth, and found it also good, so whipped it +up with more cognac, and felt happier than he had done since he nibbled +his rabbit-bones. + +As he lay that night, and the gale howled about him more furiously than +ever, his thoughts ran constantly on the dead man lying in the silent +darkness down below. + +It was very quiet down there, and dry; but this roaring turmoil, with +its thunderous crashings and hurtling spray, was infinitely more to his +taste, wet though he was to the bone, and almost deafened with the +ceaseless uproar. For this, terrible though it was in its majestic fury, +was life, and that black stillness below was death. + +To the tune of the tumult without, he worked out the dead man's story in +his mind. + +It was long ago in the old smuggling days. Some bold free-trader of Sark +or Guernsey had lighted on that cave and used it as a storehouse. Some +too energetic revenue officer had disappeared one day and never been +heard of again. He had been surprised--by the free-traders--perhaps in +the very act of surprising them--brought over to L'Etat in a boat, been +dragged through the tunnel, or made to crawl through, perhaps, with +vicious knife-digs in the rear, and had been left bound in the darkness +till he should be otherwise disposed of. His captors had been captured +in turn, or maybe killed, and he had lain there alone and in the dark, +waiting, waiting for them to return, shouting now and again into the +muffling darkness, struggling with his bonds, growing weaker and weaker, +faint with hunger, mad with thirst, until at last he died. + +It was horrible to think of, and desperate as his own state was, he +thanked God heartily that he was not as that other. + +Morning brought no slackening of the gale. It seemed to him, if +anything, to be waxing still more furious. + +He had only two eggs left, and they might both be bad ones, but he would +not have ventured round the headland that day for all the eggs in +existence. + +He broke one presently, in answer to a clamour inside him that would +brook no denial, and found it good, and lived on it that day, and mused +between times on the strange fact that a man could feel so mightily +grateful for the difference between a bad egg and a good one. + +His sixth egg turned out a good one also, and the next day there came +another hopeful lull, which permitted him to harry the puffins once +more, and gave him a dozen chances against contingencies. + +On the eighth day the storm blew itself out, and he looked hopefully +across at the lonely and weather-beaten cliffs of Sark for the relief +which he was certain they had been aching to send him. + +The waves, however, still ran high, and, though he did not know it till +later, there was not a boat left afloat round the whole Island. The +forethoughtful and weather-wise had run them round to the Creux and +carried them through the tunnel into the roadway behind. All the rest +had been smashed and sunk and swallowed by the storm. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +HOW HE HELD THE ROCK + + +The sun blazed hot next day, and he spread himself out in it to warm, +and all his soaked things in it to dry, and blessed it for its wholesome +vigour. + +Nance or Bernel would be sure to come as soon as the tide served at +night, and he would net be sorry for a change of diet; meanwhile, he +could get along all right with the unwilling assistance of the puffins. + +The birds had all crept out of their hiding-places, and were wheeling +and diving and making up for lost time and busily discussing late events +at the tops of their voices whenever their bills were not otherwise +occupied. Where they had all hidden themselves during the storm, he +could not imagine, but there seemed to be as many of them as ever, and +they were all quite happy and quarrelsome, except the cormorants, who +were so ravenous that they could not spare a moment from their diving +and gobbling, even to quarrel with their neighbours. + +He levied on the puffins again, and, after a meal, prowled curiously +about his rock to see what damage the storm had done, but to his +surprise found almost none. + +It seemed incredible that all should be the same after the deadly +onslaught of the gale. But it was only in the valley of rocks that he +found any consequences. + +There the huge boulders had been hurled about like marbles: some had +been tossed overboard, and some, in their fantastic up-piling, spoke +eloquently of all they had suffered. + +But one grim--though to him wholly gracious--deed the storm had wrought +there. For, out of the pool where the devil-fish dwelt, its monstrous +limbs streamed up and lay over the sloping rocks, and he dared not +venture near. But, in the afternoon when he came again to look at it, +and found it still in the same attitude, something about it struck him +as odd and unusual. + +The great tentacles had never moved, so far as he could see, and there +was surely something wrong with a devil-fish that did not move. + +He hurled a stone, picked out of the landslip at the corner, and hit a +tentacle full and fair with a dull thud like leather. But the beast +never moved. + +He was suspicious of the wily one, however. The devil, he knew, was +sometimes busiest when he made least show of business. And it was not +till next morning, when he found the monster still as before, that he +ventured down to the pool and looked into it, and saw what had happened. + +The waves had hurled a huge boulder into it--and there you may see it to +this day--and it had fallen on the devil-fish and ground him flat, and +purged the rock of a horror. + +Gard examined the hideous tentacles with the curiosity of intensest +repulsion; yet could not but stand amazed at the wonderful delicacy and +finish displayed in the tiny powerful suckers with which each limb was +furnished on the under side, and the flexible muscularity of the +monstrous limbs themselves, thick as his biceps where they came out of +the pool, and tapering to a worm-like point, capable, it seemed to him, +of picking up a pin. + +He was mightily glad the beast was dead, however. It had been a blot on +Nature's handiwork, and the very thought of it a horror. + +The strenuous interlude of the storm, which, to the lonely one exposed +to its fullest fury, had seemed interminable--every shivering day the +length of many, and the black howling nights longer still--had had the +effect of relaxing somewhat his own oversight over himself and his +precautions against being seen. + +L'Etat in a furious sou'-wester is a sight worth seeing. Possibly some +telescope had been brought to bear on the foam-swept rock when he, +secure in the general bouleversement and cramped with hunger, had turned +the forbidden corner with no thought in his mind but eggs. + +Possibly again, it was sheer carelessness on his part, born once more of +the security of the storm and the recent non-necessity for concealment. + +However it came about, what happened was that, as he stood in the valley +of rocks examining his dead monster, he became suddenly aware that a +fishing-boat had crept round the open end of the valley, and that it +seemed to him much closer in than he had ever seen one before. + +He dropped prone among the boulders at once, but whether he had been +seen he could not tell--could only vituperate his own carelessness, and +hope that nothing worse might come of it. + +He lay there a very long time, and when at last he ventured to crawl to +the rocks at the seaward opening, the boat was away on the usual +fishing-grounds busy with its own concerns, and he persuaded himself +that its somewhat unusual course had been accidental. The incident, +however, braced him to his former caution, and he went no more abroad +without first carefully inspecting the surrounding waters from the +ridge. + +They would be certain to come that night, he felt sure, either Nance or +Bernel, perhaps both. Yes, he thought most likely they would both come. +They would, without doubt, be wondering how he had fared during the +storm, and would be making provision for him. + +Perhaps Nance was cooking for him at that very moment, and thinking of +him as he was of her. + +In the certain expectation of their coming, he decided he would not go +to sleep at all that night, but would crawl down to the landing-place to +welcome them. + +He wondered if that mad woman Julie had given up watching them, and, if +not, if they would be able to circumvent her again. In any case, he +hoped that if only one of them came it might be Nance. He fairly ached +for the sight and sound of her--and the feel of her little hand, and a +warm frank kiss from the lips that knew no guile. + +The sufferings of the storm became as nothing to him in this large hope +and expectation of her coming. + +The intervening hours dragged slowly. It would be half-ebb soon after +dark, he thought; and he crept up to the ridge and gazed anxiously over +at the Race between him and Brenière, to see if it showed any unusual +symptoms after the storm. + +It ran furiously enough, but, he said to himself, it would slacken on +the ebb, and they were so familiar with it that it would take more than +that to stop them coming. + +Before dark the great seas were rolling past, a little quicker than +usual, he thought, but in long, smooth undulations, which slipped, +unbroken and soundless, even along the black ledges of his rock. And +when the stars came out--brighter than ever with the burnishing of the +gale--the long black backs of the waves, and the darker hollows between, +were sown so thick with trailing gleams that he could not be certain +whether it was only star-shine or phosphorescence. + +It was all very peaceful and beautiful, however, and very welcome to +eyes that had not looked upon sun, moon, or star for eight whole nights +and days, and whose ears had grown hardened to the ceaseless clamour of +the gale. Nature, indeed, seemed preternaturally quiet, as though +exhausted with her previous violence or desirous of wiping out the +remembrance of it; just as small humanity after an outbreak endeavours +at times to purge the memory of its offence by display of unusual +amiability and sweetness. + +Eager to welcome his confidently expected visitors, Gard crept along the +ridge as soon as it was dark, and posted himself on the point which, in +the daylight, commanded the passage from Brenière. + +And he sat there so long--so long after his hopes and wishes had flown +over to Sark and hurried Bernel and Nance into a boat and landed them on +L'Etat--that the night seemed running out, and he began to fear they +were not coming, after all. + +In the troubled darkness of the Race, he caught gleams at times which +might be oar-blades or might be only the upfling from the perils below. +The tide was ebbing, and soon the black fangs with which it was strewn +would be showing. + +At times he convinced himself that the brief gleams moved; but when, to +ease his eyes of the intolerable strain, he looked up at the stars, it +seemed to him that they moved also, and so he could not be sure. + +But surely there was a gleam that seemed to move and come fitfully +towards him--or was it only star-shine dancing on the waves of the Race +which always ran against the tide? + +He stood to watch, then lost the gleam, and crouched again disappointed. + +The boat must come round Quette d'Amont, the great pile of rock that lay +off the eastern corner, and the first glimpse he could hope to get of it +in the darkness would be there. + +Then, suddenly, in that curious way in which one sometimes sees more out +of the tail of one's eye than out of the front of it, he got an +impression--and with it a start--of something moving noiselessly among +the tumbled rocks below on his left. + +It was a dark night, but the glory of the stars lifted it out of the +ebony-ruler category. It was a wide, thin, lofty darkness, but still +black enough along the sides of his rock, and down there it seemed to +him that something moved, something dim and shadowy and silent. + +He thought of the dead man in his chamber down below. Could he be in the +habit of walking of a night? He thought of ghosts, of which, if popular +belief was anything to go by, Sark was full; and there was nothing to +hinder them coming across to L'Etat for their Sabbat. And he thought of +monster devil-fish climbing, loathsome and soundless, about the dark +rocks. + +He longed for a pair of Sark eyes, and shrank down into a hollow under +the ridge to watch this thing, with something of a creepy chill between +his shoulder-blades. + +There was certainly something lighter than the surrounding darkness down +below, and it moved. It turned the corner and flitted along the slope, +slowly but surely, in the direction of his shelter. Its mode of +progression, from the little he could make out in the darkness, was just +such as he would have looked for in a huge octopus hauling itself along +by its tentacles over the out-cropping rock-bones. + +He could not rest there. He must see. He crawled along the ridge as +quietly as he could manage it, and would have felt happier, whatever it +was, spirit or monster, if he had had his gun. Now and again it stopped, +and when it stopped he lay flat to the ground and held his breath, lest +it should discover him. When it went on, he went on. + +When he came to the end of the ridge he saw that the nebulous something +had apparently stopped just where his house must be. + +And then, every sense on the strain, he heard his own name called +softly, and he laughed to himself for very joy of it, and lay still to +hear it again, and laughed once more to think that in her simplicity she +still thought of him as "Mr. Gard." He would teach her to call him +"Steen," as his mother used to do. + +Then he got up quickly and cried, as softly as herself, but with joy and +laughter in his voice-- + +"Why, Nance! My dear, I was not sure whether you were a ghost or a +devil-fish;" and he sprang down towards her. + +And then, to his amazement, he saw that she was clad only in the +clinging white garment in which he had seen her swim. + +Her next words confounded him. + +"Is Bernel here?" + +"Bernel, Nance? No, dear, he is not here. Why--" + +"Did he not get here last night?" she jerked sharply. + +"No. No one. I was hoping--" + +But she had sunk down against the great stones of the shelter, with her +hands before her face. + +"Mon Gyu, mon Gyu! Then he is dead! Oh, my poor one! My dear one!" + +"Nance! Nance! What is it all, dearest? Did Bernel try to come across +last night--" + +"Yes, yes! He would come. He said you must be starving. We were all +anxious about you--" + +"And he tried to swim across?" + +"Yes, yes! And he is drowned! Oh, my poor, poor boy!" + +She was shaking with the sudden chill of dreadful loss. He stooped, and +felt inside the shelter with a long arm for the old woollen cloak and +wrapped her carefully in it. He raked out the blanket and made her sit +with it tucked about her feet. And she was passive in his hands, with +thought as yet for nothing but her loss. + +She was shaken with broken sobs, and in the face of grief such as this +he could find no words. What could he say? All the words in the world +could not bring back the dead. + +And it was through him this great sorrow had come upon her. He seemed +fated to bring misfortune on their house. + +He wondered if she would hate him for it, though she must know he had +had no more to do with the matter than with Tom's death. + +He put a protecting arm round the old cloak, tentatively, and in some +fear lest she might resent it, but knew no other way to convey to her +what was in his heart. + +But she did not resent it, and nothing was further from her mind than +imputing any share in this loss to him. + +Some women's hearts are so wonderfully constituted that the greater the +demands upon them the more they are prepared to give. At times they give +and give beyond the bounds of reason, and yet amazingly retain their +faith and hope in the recipients of their gifts. + +But that has nothing to do with our story. Except this--that these +various demands on Nance's fortitude, incurred by her love for Stephen +Gard, far from weakening her love only made it the stronger. As that +love came more and more between her and her old surroundings, and +exacted from her sacrifice after sacrifice, the more she clung to it, +and looked to it, and let the past go. The partial ostracism brought +upon her by Gard's outspoken declaration of their mutual feeling--even +this final offering of her dearly-loved brother--these only bound her +heart to him the tighter. + +"Nance dear!" he said at last, when she had got control of herself +again. "Is it not possible to hope? He was so good a swimmer. Maybe he +found the Race too strong and was carried away by it. He may have been +picked up, and will come back as soon as he is able." + +"No," she said, with gloomy decision. "He is dead. I feared for him, for +I had been to look at the Race just before sundown, and it looked +terribly strong. But he would go--" + +"Why didn't he get a boat?" + +"Ah, mon Gyu!" and she started up wildly. "I was forgetting. I was +thinking only of myself and Bernel. There isn't a boat left alive +outside the Creux, and he couldn't get one there without them knowing. +But"--in quick excitement now, to make up for lost time--"they have seen +you here, and they may come to-night--Achochre that I am! They may be +here! Come quickly! Your gun!" and she was all on the quiver to be gone. + +Gard stooped and pulled out the gun from its hiding-place inside the +shelter. + +"Is it loaded?" she asked sharply. + +"Yes. I cleaned it to-day." + +"Take your charges with you, and do you hasten back to the place we +landed the first night. You know?" + +"I know. And you?" + +"I will go to the other landing-place. But they are not likely to come +there." + +"And if they do?" + +"I will manage them," and she slipped into the darkness with the big +cloak about her. + +Gard crept along the slope, and found a roost above the landing-place. + +His brain was in a whirl. Bernel had tried to cross to him and was +drowned. Nance had swum across. Brave girl! Wonderful girl! For +him!--and for news of Bernel. It was terrible to think of Bernel, dead +on his account--terrible! It would not be surprising if Nance hated him. +Yet, what had he done?--what could he do? He had done nothing. He could +do nothing; and his teeth ground savagely at the craziness of these wild +Sark men who had brought it all about, and at his own utter impotence. + +But Nance did not hate him. And she had swum that dreadful Race to warn +him. Brave girl! Wonderful girl! + +And then--surely the grinding of an oar, as it wrought upon the gunwale +against an ill-fitted thole-pin--out there by the Quette d'Amont! + +His eyes and ears strained into the darkness till they felt like +cracking. + +And the muffled growl of voices! + +His heart thumped so, they might have heard it. + +He must wait till he was sure they meant to come in. But they must not +come too close. + +It was an ill landing in the dark, and there were various opinions on +it. But there was no doubt as to their intentions. They were coming in. + +"Sheer off there!" cried Gard. + +Dead silence below. They had come in some doubt, but their doubts were +solved now, and there was no longer need for curbed tongues, though, +indeed, his hollow voice made some of them wonder if it was not a spirit +that spoke to them. + +"It's him!" "The man himself!" "We have him!" "In now and get him!"--was +the burden of their growls, as they hung on their oars. + +"See here, men!" said Gard, invisible even to Sark eyes, against the +solid darkness of the slope. "There has been trouble and loss enough +over this matter already, and none of it my making. Do you hear? I say +again--none of it my making. If you attempt to come ashore there will be +more trouble, and this time it will be of my making. Keep back!"--as an +impulsive one gave a tug at his oar. "If you force me to fire, your +blood be on your own heads. I give you fair warning." + +Growls from the boat carried up to him an impression of mixed doubt and +discomfort--ultimate disbelief in his possession of arms, an energetic +oath or two, and another creak of the oar. + +"Very well! Here's to show you I am armed." The report of his gun made +Nance jump, at the other side of the island, and set all the birds on +L'Etat--except the puffins, deep in their holes--circling and screaming. + +The small shot tore up the water within a couple of yards of the boat, +which backed off hastily--much to his satisfaction, for he had feared +they might rush him before he had time to reload. + +He had dropped flat after firing and recharged his gun as he lay. He was +sure they must have come armed, and feared a volley as soon as his own +discharge indicated his whereabouts. + +As a matter of fact, they had come divided as to the truth of the report +that there was a man on L'Etat--even then as to him being the man they +sought. In any case, they had expected to take him unawares, and never +dreamt of his being armed and on the watch for them. + +Thanks to Nance, he had turned the tables on them. It was they who were +taken unawares. + +But if he spoke again, he said to himself, they would be ready for him, +and their answers would probably take the rude form of bullets. So he +lay still and waited. + +There was a growling disputation in the boat. Then one spoke-- + +"See then, you, Gard! We will haff you yet, now we know where you are. +If it takes effery man and effery boat in Sark, we will haff you, now we +know where you are. You do not kill a Sark man like that and go free. +Noh--pardie!" + +"I have killed no man--" A gun rang out in the boat, and the shot +spatted on the rocks not a yard from him. + +Coming in, they knew, meant certain death for one among them, and, keen +as they were to lay hands on him, no man had any wish to be that one. + +The oars creaked away into the darkness, and he climbed to the ridge to +make sure they made no attempt on the other side. + +But discretion had prevailed. One man could not hold L'Etat from +invasion at half-a-dozen points at once. They could bide their time, and +take him by force of numbers. + +He heard them go creaking off towards the Creux, and turned and went +back along the ridge to find Nance. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +HOW ONE CAME TO HIM LIKE AN ANGEL FROM HEAVEN + + +Nance was standing by the shelter, and even in the darkness he could +tell that she was shaking, in spite of her previous vigorous incitement +to defence. + +"You--you didn't kill any of them?" she asked anxiously. + +"No, dear. I warned them off and fired into the water to show them I was +armed." + +"I was afraid. But, there were two shots." + +"One of them fired back the next time I spoke, but I was expecting it." + +"They are wicked, wicked men, and cruel." + +"They are mistaken, that's all. But it comes to much the same thing, and +I don't see," he said despondently, "how we are ever to prove it to +them." + +"They will come again." + +"Yes, they are to come back with every man and every boat in the Island. +I shall have my hands full. Are there more than these two places where +they can land?" + +"Not good places, and these only when the sea is right. But angry +men--and ready to shoot you--oh, it is wicked--" + +"We must hope the sea will keep them off, and that something may turn up +to throw some light on the other matter," he said, trying to comfort +her, though, in truth, the outlook was not hopeful, and he feared +himself that his time might be short. + +"I will stop here and help you," she said, with sudden vehemence. "They +shall not have you. They shall not! They are wicked, crazy men," and the +little cloaked figure shook again with the spirit that was in it. + +"Dear!" he said, putting his arm round her, and drawing her close. "You +must not stop. They must not know you have been here. I do not know what +the end will be. We are in God's hands, and we have done no wrong. But +if ... if the worst comes, you will remember all your life, dear, that +to one man you were as an angel from heaven. Nance! Nance! Oh, my dear, +how can I tell you all you are to me!"--and as he pressed her to him, +the bare white arms stole out of the cloak and clasped him tightly round +the neck. + +"But how are you going to get back, little one? You cannot possibly swim +that Race again?" he asked presently, holding her still in his arms and +looking down at her anxiously. + +"Yes, I can swim," she said valiantly. "I knew it would be worse than +usual, and I brought these"--and she slipped from his arms and groped on +the ground, and presently held up what felt to him in the darkness like +a pair of inflated bladders with a broad band between them. "And here is +a little bread and meat, all I could carry tied on to my head. We feared +you would be starving." + +"You should not have burdened yourself, dear. It might have drowned you. +And I have eggs--puffins'--" + +"Ach!" + +"They are better than nothing, and I beat them up with cognac. But are +you safe in the Race, Nance dear, even with those things?" + +"You cannot sink. If Bernel had only taken them! But he laughed at them, +and now--" + +He kissed her sobs away, but was full of anxiety at thought of her in +the rushing darkness of the Race. + +"I will go with you," he said eagerly, "and you will lend me your +bladders to get back with." + +"You would never get back to L'Etat in the dark"--and he knew that that +was true. "We of Sark can see, but you others--" + +"I shall be in misery till I know you are all right," he said anxiously. + +"I will run home. My things are in the gorse above Brenière. And I will +get a lantern and come down by Brenière and wave it to you." + +"Will you do that? It will be like a signal from heaven," he said +eagerly, "a signal from heaven waved by an angel from heaven." + +"And to-morrow I will go to the Vicar, and the Sénéchal, and the +Seigneur, if he has come home, and I will make them stop these wicked +men from coming here again." + +"Can they?" + +"They shall. They must. They are the law and it is not right." + +"It is worth trying, at any rate," he said cheerfully, as they reached +the eastern corner and struck down across his puffin-warren to the point +immediately opposite Brenière. But he had not much hope that the Vicar +and the Sénéchal and the Seigneur all combined would avail him, for the +men of Sark are a law unto themselves. + +"But I've found another hiding-place, Nance, where they could never find +me." + +"Here?--on L'Etat?" + +"Yes--inside. I'll show you some time, perhaps, if--" + +"Is this where you came ashore?" he asked, as she came to a stand on a +rough black shelf up which the waves hissed white and venomous. + +"We--we always landed here when we swam across," she said, with a little +break in her voice, as it came home to her again that Bernel would swim +the Race no more. + +"Nance dear, don't give up hope. He may come back yet." + +"I have only you left, and they want to kill you," she said sadly. + +"I wish I could come with you," as the dark waters swirled below them. +"It feels terrible to let you go into that all alone." + +"It is nothing. The tide is dead slack, and I have these"--swinging the +bladders in her hand--"if I get tired. Oh, if Bern had only taken +them--" + +"I will kneel on the ridge and pray for your safety till I see your +light. Dear, God keep you, and bless you for all your goodness and +courage!" + +He strained her to him again, as if he could not let her go to that +colder embrace that awaited her below. + +"I could kiss the very rocks you have stood on," he said passionately. + +She kissed him back and dropped the cloak, waited a second till a wave +had swirled by, then launched into the slack of it, and was gone. + +He stood long, peering and listening into the darkness, but heard only +the welter of the water under the black ledges below, and its scornful +hiss as it seethed through the fringing sea-weeds. + +Then at last he turned and climbed, slowly and heavily, up to the ridge; +for now he felt the strain of these last full hours, coming on top of +the longer strain of the storm; and this, and the lack of proper +feeding, made him feel weak and empty and weary. He knelt down there in +the darkness, with his face towards the Race where Nance was battling +with the hungry black waters, and he prayed for her safety as he had +never prayed for anything in his life before. + +"_God keep her! God keep her! God keep her--and bring her safe to land! +O God, keep her, keep her, keep her, and bring her safe to land!_" + +It was a monotonous little prayer, but all his heart was in it, and that +is all that makes a prayer avail. And when at last, from sheer +weariness, he sank down on to his heels in science, gazing earnestly out +into the blackness of the night, his heart prayed on though his lips no +longer moved. + +Could anything have happened to her? Could the black waters have +swallowed her? + +Anything might have happened to her. The waters might have swallowed +her, as they had Bernel. + +The thoughts would surge up behind his prayer, but he prayed them +down--again and again--and clung to his prayer and his hope. + +It seemed hours since they parted, since his last glimpse of her as the +black waters swallowed the slim white figure, and seemed to laugh +scornfully at its smallness and weakness. + +"_Oh, Nance! Nance! God keep you! God keep you! God keep you! Dear one, +God keep you! God keep you! God keep you, and bring you safe to land_!" + +He was numb with kneeling. If one had come behind him and cut off his +feet above the ankles, he would have felt no pain. He felt no bodily +sensation whatever. His body was there on the rock, but his heart was +out upon the black waters alongside Nance, struggling with her through +the belching coils, nerving her through the treacherous swirls. And his +soul--all that was most really and truly him--was agonizing in prayer +for her before the God to whom he had prayed at his mother's knee, and +whom she had taught him to look to as a friend and helper in all times +of need. + +He did not even stop--as he well might have done--to think that the +friend sought only in time of need might have reasonable ground for +complaint of neglect at other times. + +He thought of nothing but that Nance was out there battling with the +black waters--that he could not lift a finger to help her--that all he +could do was to pray for her safety with all his heart and soul. + +Then, after an age of this numb agony of waiting, a tiny bead of light +flickered on the outer darkness, as though Hope with a golden pin-point +had pricked the black curtain of despair, and let a gleam of her glory +peep through. It swung to and fro, and he fell forward with his face in +his ice-cold hands and sobbed, "Thank God! Thank God! She is safe! She +is safe!" + +When he tried to get up, his legs gave way under him, and he had to sit +and wait till they recovered. And when at last he got under way along +the ridge, he stumbled like a drunken man. + +He tangled his feet in the blanket and fell in a heap. He wondered +dimly where the cloak was--remembered Nance had worn it till she took to +the sea--and stumbled off through the dark again to find it. Nance had +worn it. To him it was sacred. + +When he got back with it, he wrapped it round him and crept into his +shelter and slept like a dog. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +HOW THE OTHERS CAME TO MAKE AN END + + +He woke next morning with a start. The sun was high, by the shadow of +his doorway; and by that same token the tide would be at half-ebb, if +not lower, and the gates of his fortress at his enemy's mercy. + +He picked up his gun, listened anxiously for sound of him, and then +crept cautiously out, with a quick glance along each slope. + +Nothing!--nothing but the cheerful sun and the cloudless sky, and the +empty blue plain of the sea, and the birds circling and diving and +squabbling as usual--and Nance's little parcel lying where she had +dropped it. He had had other things to think about last night. + +The composure of the birds reassured him somewhat. Still, they might +have landed on the other side of the rock and be lying in wait for him. + +He picked up Nance's parcel with a feeling of reverence. It might have +cost her her life, in spite of her bladders. Then he climbed cautiously +to the ridge and peered over. + +Sark lay basking in the sunshine, peaceful and placid, as if no son of +hers had ever had an ill thought of his neighbour, much less sought his +blood. + +Not a boat was in sight, and the birds on the north slope seemed as +undisturbed as their fellows on the south. + +The invasion in force needed time perhaps to prepare and would be all +the more conclusive when completed. + +Meanwhile, he would eat and watch at the same time, for he felt as empty +as a drum, and an empty man is not in the pinkest of condition for a +fight. + +Never in his life had he tasted bread so sweet!--and the strips of +boiled bacon in between came surely from a most unusual pig--a porker of +sorts, without a doubt, and of most extraordinary attainment in the nice +balancing of lean and fat, and the induing of both with vital juices of +the utmost strength and sweetness. Truly, a most celestial pig!--and he +was very hungry. + +Had he been a pagan he would most likely have offered a portion of his +slim rations as thank-offering to his gods, for they had come to him at +risk of a girl's life. As it was, he ate them very thoughtfully to the +very last crumb, and was grateful. + +They had been wrapped in a piece of white linen, and then tied tightly +in oiled cloth, and were hardly damped with sea-water. The piece of +linen and the oiled cloth and the bits of cord he folded up carefully +and put inside his coat. + +They spoke of Nance. If they had drowned her she would have gone with +them tied on to her head. He took them out again, and kissed them, and +put them back. + +Thank God, she had got through safely! Thank God! Thank God! + +He shivered in the blaze of the sun as his eyes rested on the waves of +the Race, bristling up against the run of the tide as usual, and he +thought of what it might have meant to him this morning. + +It had swallowed Bernel. In spite of his hopeful words to Nance, he +feared the brave lad was gone. And it might have swallowed Nance. And if +it had--it might as well have him, too. For it was only thought of Nance +that made life bearable to him. + +The sun wheeled his silvery dance along the waters; the day wore +on;--and still no sign of the invaders. Sark looked as utterly deserted +as it must have done in the lone days after the monks left it, when, for +two hundred years, it was given over to the birds, till de Carteret and +his merry men came across from Jersey and woke it up to life again. + +And then, of a sudden, his heart kicked within him as if it would climb +into his throat and choke him; for, round the distant point of the +Lâches, a boat had stolen out, and, as he watched it anxiously, there +came another, and another, and another. They were coming! + +Four boat-loads! That ought to be enough to make full sure of him. He +wondered why they had not come sooner, for the tide was on the rise, and +the landing-places did not look tempting. + +His gun was under his hand, and his powder-flask and his little bag of +shot. He had no more preparations to make, and he had no wish to fight. + +No wish? The thought of it was hateful to him, and yet it was not in +human nature to give in without a struggle. + +But it should be all their doing. All he wanted was to be left in peace. +Every man has the right to defend his own life. + +But then, again--there could be only one end to it, he knew. So why +fight? + +They were coming to make an end of him. What good was it to make an end +of any of them? + +Even if he should succeed in keeping them off this time, the end would +come all the same, only it would be longer of coming. Why prolong it? + +The boats came bounding on like hounds at sight of the quarry. They were +well filled, four or five men in each boat, besides the oarsmen. Enough, +surely, to make an end of one lone man. + +Would they attempt to land in different places and rush him, he +wondered. Or would they content themselves with lying off and attempting +to shoot him down from a distance? The last would be the safest all +round, both for them and for him--for, landing, they would, for the +moment, be more or less at his mercy; and, snapping at him from a +distance, he would have certain chances of cover in his favour. + +The top of the ridge was flattened in places, there were even +depressions here and there, very slight, but quite enough to shelter any +one lying prone in them from bombardment from sea-level. He chose the +deepest he could find, and crawled into it, and lay, with his chin in +his hands, watching the oncoming boats. + +If he could have managed it, he would have slipped down to the rock wall +and crept into his burrow, but it was on that side the boats were +coming, and the sharp eyes on board would inevitably see him, and so get +on the track of his hiding-place. + +If the chance offered--if they left that end of the rock unspied upon +for three minutes--he would try it. + +They parted at the Quette d'Amont, two going along the south side and +two along the north. He could hear their voices, their rough jests and +brief laughter, as they crept past. + +It was an odd sensation, this, of lying there like a hunted hare, +knowing that it was him they were after. + +He pressed still closer to the rock, and did not dare to raise his head +for a look. The voices and the sound of the oars died away, came again, +died again, as the boats slowly circled the rock, every keen eye on +board, he knew, searching every nook and cranny for sign of him. + +Then a shot rang out, over there towards the south-west, and another, +and another. Tired of inaction, they were peppering his bee-hive to stir +him up in case he was fast asleep inside. + +The other boats rowed swiftly round to the firing, and he could imagine +them clustered there in a bunch, watching hopefully for him to come out; +and his blood boiled and chilled again at thought of what might have +been if he had been caught napping. + +And then, seizing his chance, he crawled to the opposite side of his +hollow, peeped over, and saw the way clear. If only they would go on +peppering the bee-hive for another minute or two, he would have time to +slip down the Sark side of his rock and get to the great wall, and so +down into his new hiding-place. + +If they tried to land, he could perhaps kill or wound two, three, +half-a-dozen, at risk of his own life. But the end would be the same. +With a dozen good shots coolly potting at him, he must go down in time, +and he had no desire either to kill or to be killed. + +He wormed himself over the edge of his hollow and hurried along to the +tumbled rocks, carrying his gun and powder-flask--not that he wanted +them, but wanted still less to leave them behind. He scrambled over, +found his marked rocks, and slipped safely under the overhanging slab. +There he could peep out without danger of being seen; and he was barely +under cover when the first boat came slowly round again, every bearded +face intent on the rock, every eye searching for sign of him. + +The other boats passed, and as each one came it seemed to him that every +eye on board looked straight up into his own, and he involuntarily +shrank down into the shadow of the slab. They could not possibly see +him, he was certain; and yet a thrill ran through him each time their +searching glances crossed his own. + +The rough jests and laughter of the boats had given way now to angry +growls at his invisibility. He could hear them cursing him as they +passed, and even casting doubts on the veracity of his visitors of the +previous night. And these latter upheld their statements with such +torrents of red-hot patois that, if they had come to grips and fought +the matter out, he would not have been in the least surprised. + +Then there came a long interval, when no boats came round. They had +probably taken their courage in their hands and landed, and were +searching the island. He dropped noiselessly into his well and clambered +up into the tunnel, and lay there with only his head out. + +And, sure enough, before long he heard the sound of big sea-boots +climbing heavily over the rock wall, and the voices of their owners as +they passed. + +What would they do next, he wondered. Would they imagine him flown, as +the result of their last night's visit? Or would they believe him still +on the island and bound to come out of his hiding-place sooner or later? +Would they give it up and go home? Or would they leave a guard to trap +him when hunger and thirst brought him out? + +He lay patiently in the mouth of his tunnel till long after the last +glimmer of light had faded from under the big slabs that covered in his +well. More than once he heard voices, and once they came so close that +he was sure they had come upon his tracks, and he crept some distance +down his tunnel to be out of sight. But the alarm proved a false one, +and the time passed very slowly. + +As he lay, he thought of the dead man with the bound hands and feet in +the silent chamber behind him, bound by the forebears of these men, who, +in turn, were seeking him, and would treat him as ruthlessly if they +found him. + +He took the lesson to heart, and braced himself to patient endurance, +though, indeed, he began to ask himself gloomily what was the use of it +all. In the end, their venomous persistence must make an end of him. One +man could not fight for ever against a whole community. + +And at that he chided himself. Not a whole community! For was not Nance +on his side--hoping and praying and working for him with all her might +and main? And her mother, and Grannie, and the Vicar, and the Doctor, +and the Sénéchal? He was sure they all knew him far too well to doubt +him. And all these and the Truth must surely prevail. + +But the long strain had been sore on him, and in spite of his anxieties +he fell asleep in his hole, and dreamed that the dead man came crawling +down the tunnel, and dragged him back into the chamber, and tied his +hands and feet, and went away, and left him to die there all alone. And +so strong was the impression upon him that, when he woke, he lay +wondering who had loosed his bonds, and could not make out how he had +got back into the mouth of the tunnel. + +It was still quite dark. He was stiff with lying in that cramped place. +He was strongly tempted to climb out and see how matters lay. For he +might be able to find out in the dark, whereas daylight would make him +prisoner again. + +He wanted eggs, too. Nance's provision had served him well all day, but +if he had to spend another day there something more would be welcome. + +But then it struck him that if he went up in the dark he might never be +able to find his way back again. The cleft under the slab was difficult +to hit upon even in daylight. There were scores of just similar ragged +black holes among the tumbled rocks of the great wall. + +As he lay pondering it all, the grim idea came into his head of dragging +the dead man through the tunnel, and hoisting him up outside, and +leaving him propped up among the boulders where they would be sure to +find him. + +He knew how arrantly superstitious they were, most of them. They had +been brought up on ghosts and witches and evil spirits, and, fearless as +they might be of things mortal and natural, all that bordered on the +unknown and uncanny held for them unimaginable terrors. The dead man +might serve a useful purpose after all; and the grim idea grew. + +He could decide nothing, however, till he learned if he had the rock to +himself; and he determined to take the risk of finding this out. + +He cautiously climbed the well, and by the look of the stars he judged +it still very early morning. A brooding grey darkness covered the sea; +the sky was dark even in the east. + +He slipped off his coat and left it hanging out of the cleft as a +landmark, and lowered himself silently from rock to rock, till he stood +among the rank grasses below. + +Food first--so, after patient listening for smallest sound or sign of a +watch, he crept down to the slope where the puffins' nests were, and, +wrapping his hand in Nance's napkin, managed to get out a dozen eggs +from as many different holes, in spite of the fierce objections of their +legitimate owners. + +He tied these up carefully in the blood-spotted cloth, and carried them +up to his cleft. Then he stole away like a shadow, to find out, if he +could, if there was any one else on the rock besides himself and the +dead man. + +There had been hot disputes on that head in the boats. Those who were +there for the first time had even gone the length of casting strongest +possible doubts as to whether those who were there the night before had +seen or heard anything whatever, and did not hesitate to state their +belief that they were all on a fool's errand. The others replied in +kind, and when the further question was mooted as to keeping watch all +night, the scoffers told the others to keep watch if they chose; for +themselves, they were going home to their beds. + +"Frightened of ghosts, I s'pose," growled one. + +"No more than yourself, John Drillot. But we've wasted a day on this +same fooling, and the man's not here; and for me, I doubt if he's ever +been here." + +"And what of the things we found in the shelter?" said Drillot. "Think +they came there of themselves?" + +"I don't care how they came there. It's not old cloaks and blankets we +came after. Maybe he has been here. I don't know. But he's not here now, +and I've had enough of it." + +"B'en! I'm not afraid to stop all night--if anyone'll stop with me"--and +if no one had offered he would have been just as well pleased. "Don't +know as I'd care to stop all alone." + +"Frightened of ghosts, maybe," scoffed the other. + +"You stop with me, Tom Guille, and we'll see which is frightenedest of +ghosts, you or me." + +But Tom Guille believed in ghosts as devoutly as any old woman in Sark, +and he was bound for home, no matter what the rest chose to do. + +"There's not a foot of the rock we haven't searched," said he, "and the +man's not here; so what's the use of waiting all night?" + +"Because if he's in hiding it's at night he'll come out." + +"Come out of where?" + +"Wherever he's got to." + +"That's Guernsey, most likely. His friends have arranged to lift him off +here first chance that came; and it came before we did, and you'll not +see him in these parts again, I warrant you." + +"I'll wait with you, John, if you're set on it, though I doubt Tom's +right, and the man's gone," said Peter Vaudin of La Ville. And John +Drillot found himself bound to the adventure. + +"Do we keep the boat?" asked Vaudin. + +"No ... for then one of us must sit in her all night, or she will bump +herself to pieces. You will come back for us in the morning, Philip." + +"I'll come," said Philip Guille, and presently they stood watching the +boats pulling lustily homewards, and devoutly wishing they were in them. + +Every foot of the rock, as they knew it, had already been carefully +raked over. The possible hiding-places were few. But no one knows better +than a Sark man what rocks can do in the way of slits and tunnels and +caves, and it was just this possibility that had set John Drillot to his +unwonted, and none too welcome, task. The murderer--as he deemed +Gard--might have found some place unknown to any of them, and might be +lying quietly waiting for them to go. If that was so, he must come out +sooner or later, and the chances were that he would steal out in the +night. + +So the two watchers prowled desultorily about the rock, poking again +into every place that suggested possible concealment for anything larger +than a puffin. There might be openings in the rifted basement rocks +which only the full ebb would discover, and these might lead up into +chambers where a man could lie high and dry till the tide allowed him +out again. And so they hung precariously over the waves and poked and +peered, and found nothing. + +They had clambered over the great wall more than once before Vaudin +said: "G'zamin, John, I wonder if there's any holes here big enough to +take a man?" + +"He'd have to be a little one, and this Gard's not that," and they +stood looking at the wall. "'Sides, them rocks lie on the rock itself, +and there's no depth to them." + +But Vaudin was not sure that there might not be room for a man to lie +flat under some of the big slabs, and began to poke about among them. + +"Some one's been up here," he said, pointing to one of Gard's own +scorings. + +"Bin up there four times myself," said Drillot, "an' so have all the +rest. There's no room to hide a man there, Peter. If he's hid anywhere, +he'll come out in the night. Maybe Philip Guille's right, and he's safe +in Guernsey by this. Come along to that shelter and let's have a drink." + +They had their bottle out of the boat, and they had also come upon +Gard's bottle of cognac, of which quite half remained. It was a finer +cordial than their own, so they sat drinking them turn about, and +watching the sun set, and chatting spasmodically, till it grew too dark +to do more than sit still with safety. + +They were by no means drunk, but the spirits had made them heavy, and +when John Drillot solemnly suggested that they should keep watch about, +Peter Vaudin as solemnly agreed, and offered to take first duty. + +So John curled his length inside the bee-hive, and made himself +comfortable with Gard's cloak and blanket, and was presently snoring +like a whole pig-sty. And that had a soporific effect on Peter. He had +only stopped behind to oblige John, and personally had little +expectation of anything coming of it. Moreover, the night air was +chilly. If he could get that cloak from John now! He crawled in to try, +but big John was rolled up like a caterpillar. It was warmer inside +there than out, anyway. And he could keep watch there just as well as +outside; so he propped himself up alongside John, and braced his mind to +sentry duty. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +HOW HE CAME INTO AN UNKNOWN PLACE + + +Having lodged his eggs in a ledge under the big slab, Gard stole away to +learn, if he could, if he had the rock all to himself. + +He wanted water, and he wanted his bottle of cognac and the tin dipper; +for puffins' eggs, while not unpalatable beaten up with cognac, are of a +flavour calculated to exercise the strongest stomach when eaten raw. + +He feared the men would have made away with all his small possessions, +but he could only try. So he stole like a shadow round the crown of the +ridge and along towards the shelter, standing at times motionless for +whole minutes till the rush of the waves below should pass and give him +chance of hearing. + +But on L'Etat the sound of many waters never ceases night or day, and +the night wind hummed among the stones of the shelter, and, as it +happened, John Drillot had just lurched over in avoidance of a lump of +rock which was intruding on his comfort, and in so doing had lodged his +heavy boot in Peter Vaudin's ribs, and so their sonorous duet was +stilled, and neither of them was very sound asleep, when Gard, after +listening anxiously and hearing nothing, dropped on his hands and knees +and felt cautiously inside. + +Peter felt the blind hand groping in the dark, and was wide awake in an +instant. He hurled himself at the intruder, as well as a man could who +had been lying back against the wall half asleep a moment before; and +Gard turned and sped away along the side of the ridge, with Peter at his +heels and John Drillot thundering ponderously in the rear. + +"What is't, Peter boy?" shouted John. + +"It's him. This way!" yelled Peter, out of the dimness in front, as he +stumbled and staggered along the ragged inadequacies of the ridge. + +If Gard had had time for consideration, he would have led them a chase +elsewhere first, but, in the sudden upsetting of lighting on what he had +persuaded himself was not there, he lost his head and made straight for +cover. + +Peter Vaudin was at the base of the rock wall as he wriggled silently +under the big slab, and it was only by a violent jerk that he got his +foot clear of Peter's grip. And Peter, strung to the occasion, kept his +hand on the spot where the foot had disappeared, and waited a moment for +John Drillot to come up before he followed it. + +"Gone in here," he jerked, as he climbed cautiously up. + +"Can't have gone far, then," panted John. "Sure it was him?" + +"Had him by the foot, but he got loose. Here we are," as he poked about, +and came at last on the hole below the slab. "Come on, John ... can't be +far away.... Big hole"--as he kicked about down below--"no bottom, far +as I can see." + +"Best wait for daylight, to see where we're getting." + +"Oui gia! Man doux, it's not me's going down here till I know what's +below." + +So they sat and kicked their heels and waited for the day, certain in +their own minds that their quarry was run to earth and as good as +caught. + +Gard had swept down both his coat and his cloth full of eggs in his +sudden entrance. He stood at the bottom of the well to see if they would +follow, while Peter's long legs kicked about for foothold. He heard them +decide to wait for daylight, and then he noiselessly picked up his coat +and his soppy bundle of broken eggs, pushed them into the tunnel, and +crawled in after them. + +He was trapped, indeed, but he doubted very much if any fisherman on +Sark would venture down that tunnel. They were brawny men, used to leg +and elbow room, and, as a rule, heartily detested anything in the shape +of underground adventure. They might, of course, get over some miners to +explore for them. Or they might content themselves with sitting down on +top of his hole until he was starved out. In any case, his rope was +nearly run; but yet he was not disposed to shorten it by so much as an +inch. + +As he wormed his way along the tunnel, the recollection of those other +openings off the dead man's cave came back to him. He would try them. He +pushed on with a spurt of hope. + +The tunnel was not nearly so long now that he knew where he was going; +in fact, now that nothing but it stood between him and capture, it +seemed woefully inadequate. + +When his head and elbows no longer grazed rock he dropped his coat and +crawled into the chamber. He felt his way round to the dried packages, +and cautiously emptied half-a-dozen and prepared them for his use. + +This set him sneezing so violently that it seemed impossible that the +watchers outside should not hear him. It also gave him an idea. + +He struck a light and kindled one of his torches, and the dead man +leaped out of the darkness at him as before. That gave him another idea. + +Propping up his light on the floor, he emptied package after package of +the powdered tobacco into the tunnel, and wafted it down towards the +entrance with his jacket. Then with his knife he cut the lashings from +the dead man's hands and feet, and carried him across--he was very +light, for all his substance had long since withered out of him--and +laid him in the tunnel as though he was making his way out. + +If he knew anything of Sark men and miners, he felt fairly secure for +some time to come, so he sat himself down, as far as possible from the +snuff, and made such a meal as was possible off puffins' eggs, mixed +good and bad and unredeemed by any palliating odour and flavour. They +were not appetising, but they stayed his stomach for the time being. + +It was only then that he remembered that he had left his gun and +powder-flask behind him. He had placed them on a ledge just inside the +mouth of the tunnel, and in his haste had forgotten to pick them up. He +had no intention of using them, however, and he would not go back for +them. + +When his scanty meal was done, he cautiously emptied a number of the +packages and rolled them into torches, and deliberated as to which of +the black openings he should attempt first. + +That one opposite, out of which the dead man's legs sprawled +grotesquely, was the one by which he had entered. This one, then, near +which he sat, must run on towards the centre of the island--if it ran on +at all; and, since all were equally unknown and hopeful, he would try +this first. + +His tarred paper torches, though they burned with a clear flame, gave +forth a somewhat pungent odour, so he kicked one of the small barrels to +pieces, and with three of the staves and a piece of string made a holder +which would carry the torch upright, and also permit him to lay it on +the ground or push it in front of him, if need be. + +The first tunnel ran in about thirty feet, and then the slant of the +roof met the floor at so sharp an angle that further passage was +impossible. + +The second, third, and fourth the same; and he began to fear they were +all blind alleys leading nowhere. + +The openings near his own entrance tunnel he had left till the last, +since they obviously led outwards. + +Two of them shut down in the same way as all the others, and it was only +the dogged determination to leave no chance untried that drove him, with +a fresh supply of torches, down the last one of all, the one alongside +that out of which the dead man's legs projected. + +It took a turn to the left within a dozen feet of the entrance, and, +like the rest, it presently narrowed down through a slope in the roof; +but just at its narrowest, when he feared he had come to the end, there +came a dip in the flooring corresponding to the slope up above, and he +found he could wriggle through. Once through, the passage widened and +continued to widen, and the going became very rough and broken, with +piles of ragged rock and deep black pitfalls in between. + +Then, of a sudden, he saw the walls and roof of his passage fall away, +and his light flickered feebly in the darkness of a vast place, and he +crouched on the rock up which he had climbed, and sat in wonder. + +Somewhere below him he could hear the slow rise and fall of water, dull +and heavy and without any splash, like the dumb breathing of a captive +monster. + +And every now and again there came, from somewhere beyond, a low dull +thud, like the blow of a padded hammer, and a distant subdued rustle +along the outside of the darkness. He knew it was not inside the place +he was in, for he could hear the soft rise and fall of the water quite +clearly, but these other sounds came to him from a distance, muted as +though his ears had suddenly gone deaf. + +"Those dull blows," he said to himself, "are the waves on the outside of +L'Etat. That low rustling is the rush of them along the lower rocks. The +water inside here probably comes in through some openings below +tide-level. I am quite safe here, even if they get past the dead man's +cave--quite safe until I starve. Unless there are fish to be had"--and +he felt a spark of hope. "And maybe there are devil-fish"--and he +shivered and glanced below and about him fearfully. + +His homely torch did no more than faintly illumine the rock he sat on +and those close at hand, and cast a gigantic uncouth shadow of himself +on the rough wall behind. All beyond was solid darkness, blacker even +than a black Sark night. + +He sat wondering vaguely if any before him had penetrated to that +strange place. It was odd and uncanny to feel that his eyes were the +very first to look upon it. And then, away in front, and apparently at a +great distance above him, he became aware of a difference in the solid +darkness. It seemed almost as though it had thinned. His eye had seemed +able for a moment to carry beyond the narrow circle of the torch, but +when he peered into the void to see what this might mean, it all seemed +solid as before. + +As his straining eyes sought relief in something visible, their +side-glance caught once more that same impression of movement in the +darkness. And presently it came again and stronger--a strange greenish +fluttering up in the roof--very faint, as though the roof were smoke on +which a soft green light played for a moment and vanished. + +But by degrees the light grew, though at no time did it become more than +a wan ghost of a light, and from its curious fluttering he judged that +it came through water. + +Reasoning from the trend of the cavern, he came to the conclusion that +somewhere on that further side there were openings into the deep water +beyond, on which the sunlight played and struck at times into the cave, +and he was keen to look more closely into it. + +He lowered his torch to the side of his rock, and its feeble flicker +fell on a chaos of rocks below. He looked long and cautiously for supple +yellow arms or tiny whip-like threads which might coil suddenly round +his legs and drag him to hideous death. + +But he saw nothing of the kind. The rocks were dry and bare, not a +limpet nor a sea-weed visible, and leaving his jacket for a landmark as +before, he slowly let himself down from one huge boulder to another, +till he found himself climbing another great pile in front. + +When at last his head rose above this ridge, he almost rolled over at +the sight of two huge green eyes blinking lazily at him out of the +darkness in front--two great openings far below sea-level, through which +filtered dimly the wavering green light whose refractions fluttered in +the roof. + +The vast trough below him heaved gently now and then, with a ponderous +solemnity which filled him with awe. He felt himself an intruder. He +felt like a fly creeping about a sleeping tiger. He hardly dared to +breathe, lest the brooding spirit of the place should rise suddenly out +of some dark corner and squash him on his rock as one does a crawling +insect; and his anxious eyes swept to and fro for the smallest sign of +danger. + +But, plucking up courage from immunity, and dreading to be caught in the +dark in that weird place, he crawled over the boulders towards the side +wall of the cavern to get as near to those openings as possible. From +the very slight movement of the water, which was ever on the boil round +the outside of L'Etat, he judged them deep down among the roots of the +island, far below the turmoil of the surface, but he must see and make +sure. + +With infinite toil and many a scrape and bruise, he got round at last, +and could look right down into the dim green depths, and what he saw +there filled him with sickening fear. + +The water was crystal clear, and in through the nearer opening, as he +looked, a huge octopus propelled itself in leisurely fashion, its great +tentacles streaming out behind, its hideous protruding eyes searching +eagerly for prey. + +Just inside the opening it gathered itself together for a moment, and +seemed to look so meaningly right up into his eyes that he found himself +shrinking behind a rock lest it should see him. Then it clamped itself +to the side of the opening and spread wide its arms for anything that +might come its way. + +He watched it, fascinated. He saw fishes large and small unconsciously +touch the quivering tentacles, which on the instant twisted round them +and dragged them in to the rending beak below the hideous eyes. And then +he saw another similar monster come floating in on similar quest, and in +a moment they were locked in deadly fight--such a writhing and coiling +and straining and twisting of monstrous fleshy limbs, which swelled and +thrilled, and loosed and gripped, with venom past believing--such a +clamping to this rock and that--such tremendous efforts at dislodgment. + +It was a nightmare. It sickened him. He turned and crawled feebly away, +anxious only now to get out of this awful place without falling foul of +any similar monsters among the rocks. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +HOW NANCE WATCHED FROM AFAR + + +From the headland above Brenière, Nance had watched the boats go +plunging across to L'Etat. + +Very early that morning she had sped across the Coupée and up the long +roads to the Seigneurie, but the Seigneur was away in Guernsey still, +busied on the vital matter of raising still more money for the mines in +which he was a firm believer, mortgaging his Seigneurie for the purpose, +assured in his own mind that all would be well in the end. + +Then to the Vicar and the Sénéchal, and these set off at once for the +harbour, but found themselves powerless in the face of public opinion. +Argument and remonstrance alike fell on deaf ears. The Vicar appealed to +their sense of right; the Sénéchal forbade their going. But their minds +were doggedly set on it, and they went. + +"I shall hold you to account," stormed Philip Guille. + +"B'en, M. le Sénéchal, we'll pay it all among us," and away they went; +and back to her look-out by Brenière went Nance, and the Vicar with her +for comfort in this dark hour. + +They watched the boats circling the rock, round and round. They heard +the firing, and Nance flung herself on the ground in an agony of +weeping, sure that the end had come. For they could only be firing at +Gard, and what could one man do against so many? + +"They have killed him," she moaned. + +And the Vicar could only tighten his pale lips, and smooth her hair with +his thin white hand, as she writhed on the ground at his side. For he +could but think she was right. They were good shots, the Sark men, and +it needs but one bullet to kill a man. + +If Nance had looked a moment longer she might have seen Gard slip down +from the ridge to the wall, but the bombardment of the shelter, which +gave him his chance, made an end of her hopes, and her face was hidden +in the turf. + +The Vicar's sight was not keen enough to see clearly what was passing. +But when the men landed on the rock, and overran it in their search, he +could not fail to see their figures on the ridge against the sky, and an +exclamation of surprise roused Nance. + +"What is it?" she jerked. + +"They have landed over there. They seem to be searching the rock." + +"Then--" and she sat up suddenly and gazed intently across at L'Etat, +and then sprang to her feet, a new creature. "For, see you, Mr +Cachemaille," she cried, "if they had killed him they would not be +searching for him, nenni-gia!" + +"That is true, child," said the Vicar hopefully, and then, less +hopefully, "but where shall a man hide on L'Etat?" + +"Ah now! I remember. Just as I was leaving him last night, he told me--" + +"As you were leaving him--last night?" and the old man gazed at her as +though he doubted his ears or her right senses. + +"But yes," she cried impatiently. "I swam across there last night to see +if Bernel was there and to take him some food. But you are not to tell +that to any one. And he told me--" + +"You swam across?--to L'Etat?" + +"Yes, yes! We have done it many times, and, besides, I had the +bladders--" + +The Vicar shook his head helplessly. She forgot to explain so much that +he did not understand. But he grasped at one thread. + +"And Bernel?" + +"Ah, my poor Bernel! He is drowned," she said, with a heave of the +breast, but with her eyes intent on L'Etat. "I wanted him to take the +bladders, but he would not; and it was the first night after the storm, +you see, and the waves were big still, and he never got to L'Etat, and +he never came back; so, you see--" + +"Truly, you are being sorely tried, my child. But your brother was a +better swimmer than most. May we not hope--" + +But she shook her head, intent on the doings on the rock, and full, for +the moment, of the hope she could draw from Gard's hint about a +hiding-place of which she knew nothing. For if she and Bernel had never +discovered it, how should these others? And obviously they were +searching, for they prowled about the rock like ants, and poked here and +there, and wandered on and came back. And if they still sought they had +not yet found; and so there was a new spring of hope in her heart. + +"Yes, truly, they are searching," she murmured, and forgot the Vicar +and all else. + +He tried to induce her to go back home with him, but she would not move. +For the moment all her hope in life was in peril on the rock, and she +must see all that went on; and finally he had to leave her there, and +she hardly knew that he had gone. She wanted only to be left alone, to +nurse her new-born hope and watch in fear and trembling for any symptom +of its overthrow. + +But she was not to be left in peace, for Madame Julie had heard the +firing also, and had come round the headland by the miners' cottages, +exulting in the fact that her enemy was run to earth at last and was +meeting righteous punishment. + +And as she prowled about there, chafing at the delay in the return of +the boats, she came suddenly on Nance gazing out at L'Etat with a +face--not, as Julie would have expected, downcast and woe-begone, but +full of eager expectancy. And the sight of her, and in such case, +stirred Julie to venom. + +"Ah then--there you are, mademoiselle, listening to the end of your +fancy gentleman! And the right end, too, ma foi! A man that goes +knocking his neighbours on the head--it's right he should be shot like a +rabbit--" + +Nance's face quivered, but she did not even look round. + +"You'll see them coming back presently, and they'll bring his body back +with them in the boat, all full of holes. And then I'll feel that my +Tom's paid for--" + +"Do you hear?" she cried, planting herself in front of Nance, and +jerking her hands up and down in her excitement and the exaspeiation of +receiving no response. "Do you hear me--you? Or are you gone crazy for +love of your murderer?"--and she made as though to lay wild hands on the +girl. + +"You are wicked! You are evil! You are a devil!" said Nance through her +little white teeth, and looked so as though she might fly at her that +Julie drew off. + +"Aha--spitfire!--wildcat!--you would bite?" + +Nance, all ashake with disgust, stooped suddenly and picked up a lump of +rock. + +"Go!" she said, in a voice of such concentrated fury that it was little +more than a whisper. "Go!--before I do you ill;" and she looked so like +it that Julie turned and fled, expecting the rock between her shoulders +at every step. + +But the rock was on the ground, and Nance was intent again on L'Etat. + +She stood there watching, until she saw the boats put off, and then she +turned and sped like a rabbit--across the waste lands--across the +Coupée--over Clos Bourel fields into Dixcart--over Hog's Back to the +Creux. + +She ran through the tunnel just as the boats came up, and her eyes were +wide with expectant fear, as they swept them hungrily. + +"What have you done then, out there, Philip Vaudin?" she cried, as his +boat's nose grated on the shingle. + +"Pardi, ma garche, we have done nothing." + +"But the shooting?" + +"Some one shot at the shelter to see if he was inside, and the rest shot +because they thought there must be something to shoot at." + +"And you have not got him?" asked another disappointedly. + +"Never even seen him." + +"Ah ba!" + +"Either he's gone or he's under cover, though, ma fé, I don't know where +he'd find it on L'Etat," and Nance's heart beat hopefully. "However, +John Drillot and Peter Vaudin are stopping the night in case he is still +there and ventures out of his hole," and her heart sank again, and +kicked rebelliously that a man should be hunted thus, like a rabbit. + +She spent a night of misery, wondering what was happening on L'Etat, and +was at her post above Brenière as soon as it was light. + +She saw Philip Vaudin come round from the Creux in his boat and run +across to the rock, and almost as soon as he had disappeared round +Quette d'Amont, he came speeding back, alone, and not to the harbour, +but straight to the fishermen's rough landing-place inside Brenière. + +"What is it then, Philip?" she asked anxiously, as he hauled himself up +the rocks on to the turf. + +"I've come for two miners," he panted, for he had come quickly. "They've +run him to earth in a hole, but they won't either of them go in after +him, and they want some one who will." + +"Ah, then!" + +"Yes. He came out in the night, and they chased him, but he got into his +hole, and they're sitting on it ever since," and he hurried away through +the waste of gorse and bracken to the miners' cottages. + +Volunteers were evidently not over plentiful. It was a considerable time +before he came back with a Welshman, Evan Morgan, and a young +Cornishman, John Trevna, and neither of them seemed over eager for the +job. + +"For, see you," had been Morgan's view, "coing in a hole after a man +what hass a gun iss not a nice pissness, no inteet!" and the Cornishman +agreed with him. + +However, they put off, and Nance crouched in the bracken and watched all +their doings. + +She had long since caught sight of John Drillot and Peter Vaudin sitting +on the rock wall, and wondered what kind of a hiding-place Gard could +possibly have found therein. A poor one, she feared, and that the end +would be quick. + +The boat disappeared round the corner, and presently she saw the three +men join the others at the wall, and they all clustered there and +talked, and then one by one they disappeared into the wall itself, and +she sat watching in fear and trembling. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +HOW TWO WENT IN AND THREE CAME OUT + + +"It iss better to sit here two, three days till he comse out than to go +in and get yourself killt, yes inteet!" was the burden of Evan Morgan's +answer to all their arguments for a speedy assault. And "Iss, sure!" was +Trevna's curt, complete endorsement. + +But when, at John Drillot's suggestion, they had squeezed under the slab +to have a look at what lay below, and had peered down the slit that Gard +tried first, and had then lighted on the tunnel, and had found the gun +and powder-flask jammed in a crevice--that put a different face on the +matter. + +And, after prolonged discussion as to the proper method of procedure, +especially in the matter of precedence, it was at last arranged that +Evan Morgan should go first with his miner's lamp, and that John Trevna +should follow close behind, carrying the gun. + +"And iss it understood that I shoot him if I see him?" asked Trevna, to +make sure of his ground and make his conscience easy. + +"Pardi, yes, mon gars! Shoot straight, and the Island will thank you," +asserted John Drillot. + +"Ant for Heaven's sake, John Trevna, see you ton't shoot me behint by +mistake," urged Evan Morgan; and they disappeared slowly into the +tunnel, while the other two stood waiting expectantly in the well. + +Accustomed as they were to narrow places, this long worm-hole of a +tunnel, with the doubtful possibilities that lay beyond it, seemed as +endless to the militant members of the expedition as it did to the +waiters outside. + +Occasionally a hollow sound came booming down the tunnel, when one or +other grunted out a word of objurgation on the narrowness of things, but +for the most part they wormed along in silence, Morgan shifting forward +his lamp, foot by foot, and straining his eyes into the darkness ahead, +Trevna close behind with his gun at full cock and ready for instant +action. + +"Gad'rabotin, but they take their time, those two!" said John Drillot, +impatiently, outside. + +"It iss going right through to Wailee, I do think," growled Evan Morgan +inside. + +And it was just after that that there broke out in the depths of the +tunnel a commotion so extraordinary that the listeners outside could +make nothing at all of it, and could only lurch about in amazement and +climb up and push their heads into the tunnel, and wonder what it all +meant. Then, in the midst of the turmoil, there came the thunderous +bellow of the gun, and after a time a trickle of thin blue smoke floated +lazily out and hung about the well; and the men outside sniffed +appreciatively, and said, "Ch'est b'en!" and waited hopefully. + +Evan Morgan, shifting forward his light, got an impression of something +in the narrow way in front, and suddenly he was taken with the biggest +fit of sneezing he had ever had in his life. He banged down the lamp +and threw up his head till it cracked against the roof, then banged his +chin against the floor, and finally propped himself, like a sick dog, on +his two front paws, and sneezed and sneezed and sneezed for dear life. + +Then John Trevna began. He had the sense to lay down his gun, or Morgan +might have got the charge in his back. And so they sneezed in concert, +until their heads were clearer than they had been for many a day. And +the sound of it all to those outside was like the sound of mortal +combat. + +Then Morgan, wiping his streaming eyes on the sleeve of his coat, in a +state of extreme exhaustion, caught sight of that which lay just beyond +him, and he saw that it was a man crawling down the tunnel to meet him. + +"Shoot, John, shoot! He iss here," he yelled, and laid himself flat to +give Trevna his chance. + +And Trevna, between two sneezes, picked up his gun, though he could see +nothing to shoot at, and ran the barrel forward above Morgan's head and +fired, and the roar of it in that confined space came near to deafening +them both. + +The smoke hung thick and choked them, as they gasped it in in gulps +while they sneezed, and the light had gone out with the concussion. + +They lay for a time exhausted. Then the atmosphere cleared somewhat, and +they lay in the thick darkness straining their ears for any sound, but +heard nothing. + +"What did you see, Evan Morgan?" whispered Trevna at last. + +"It wass a man." + +"Then I have killed him, for he does not move. Can you light the lamp?" + +"I can not--in here. I am coing out. I haf hat enough of this." + +"We must take him out, too." + +"You can tek him, then, John Trevna. I haf hat enough of him and this +hole." + +"Don't be a fool, Evan Morgan. If it wass a man, and he got that load in +him as close as that, he iss deader than Tom Hamon." + +"Well, you can go an' see. I am coing out," and he began to wriggle +backwards, and Trevna was fain to go too. + +But presently they came to one of the somewhat wider places where the +wall had fallen away, and Trevna squeezed himself tightly into this. + +"You go on, then, Evan Morgan," he said, "if you can get past, and I +will go back and bring him out." + +"You are a fool, John Trevna, to meddle with him any more. Iff the man +iss dead, he iss just as well left there." + +"If he iss dead he cannot harm me, and I would like to see the man I +have killed." + +"Ugh!" grunted Morgan, and crawled on, legs first. + +Trevna wormed along up the tunnel, groping cautiously in front of him at +each forward lurch, and at last his hands fell on what he sought, and at +the same moment he began sneezing again. + +It would be no easy job dragging a dead man all down that tunnel, he +thought. But when, after cautious feeling here and there, he got a grip +of the man's coat collar, to his surprise it came away in his hand, but +at the same time it seemed to him that the body was extraordinarily +light. + +He tried again with a fresh grip on the coat, but it tore like paper, +and, after thinking it over, he unstrapped his leather belt and got it +round the man below the armpits, and so was able to haul him slowly +along. + +When Evan Morgan's wriggling legs came slowly out of the tunnel, John +Drillot and Peter Vaudin were almost dancing with excitement, and their +first surprise was the sight of him when, by rights, John Trevna should +have been the one to come out first. + +"Well then? What have you done? And where is John Trevna?" cried John +Drillot. + +"Ach! He iss a fool. He hass shot the man and now he will pring him out +when he woult pe much petter buried where he iss." + +"He's quite right. What was all the noise about?" + +"That wass the shooting." + +"Before that. You all seemed to be howling at once." + +"That wass the sneezing. It iss full of sneezing down there," and his +red eyes still showed the effect of it. + +It was a long time before they heard the laboured sounds of Trevna's +coming. But at last his legs wriggled out, then his body, then with a +lurch he hauled up to the mouth of the tunnel that which he had brought +with him. And at sight of it they all started back against the sides of +the well, with various cries but equal amazement. + +"O mon Gyu!" cried Peter Vaudin. + +"Thousand devils!" cried John Drillot. + +"Heavens an' earth!" gasped Evan Morgan. + +John Trevna gazed open-mouthed, for he had little breath left in him. + +And from the black mouth of the tunnel the strange and terrible figure +of the dead man looked quietly down at them and filled them with +amazement. + +Trevna's heavy charge had blown in the top of the skull. The shrunken +yellow face wore the gaunt eager look of one who had died the slow death +of starvation. It seemed to be trying to get at them to bite and rend +them. + +Peter Vaudin was the first to climb the wall behind him, but the rest +were close at his heels, and hustled him up through the crack under the +slab. + +Peter struck down towards the landing-place the moment he had wriggled +through. + +"Stop then, Peter," called John Drillot, in a low insistent voice, lest +that dreadful thing below should hear him. + +"Not me! I've had enough, John Drillot. That is not what we came for ... +and I had hold of its leg last night," and he shivered at the +recollection, and the thought that it might have turned on him and +gripped him with its grisly hands. + +"I don't know what it is," began John Drillot, "but--" + +"It's the man I shot inside there," said Trevna. + +"That man hass peen det a hundert years," said Morgan. + +"All the same, he was running about last night," said Peter, "and I had +hold of his leg"--with another shiver. + +"He's dead enough now, anyway," said Drillot. + +"Eh b'en! leave him where he is, and let's get away. I've heard say +there were ghosts on L'Etat, and now I know it. No good comes of +meddling with these things." + +"But we ought to take him with us." + +"Take him with us!" almost shrieked Peter. "And let him loose on Sark! +Why then?" + +"Whatever he was last night, he's dead enough now.... Will you help me +to get him up, John Trevna?" + +"Iss, sure! He's got my belt." + +"Not in my boat, John Drillot," cried Peter. "Not in my boat. I've had +enough of him, pardi!" and he set off at speed for the boat. + +"Don't be a fool, Peter. You, Evan Morgan, run down and stop him going. +Come on, John Trevna," and after peering cautiously down to make sure +the dead man had not moved, they dropped into the well again. + +The shrivelled figure was very light, as Trevna had found. It was only +their repugnance at handling it that made their task a heavy one. One +above and one below, they managed at last to get it up above ground, and +then John Trevna slipped his belt to its middle, and carried it with one +hand down the slope to the boat. + +There they found Evan Morgan holding the approach to the landing-place +against Peter, with a lump of rock, while Philip, in the boat below, +stood shouting at them to know what was the matter. + +At sight of the others and their burden, however, he had no eyes for +anything else. + +"What have you got there, John Drillot?" + +"A dead man." + +"Aw, then! That's not Gard." + +"It's the only man here, anyway. Pull close up, Philip--" + +"Not in my boat, John Drillot!" from Peter. + +"We must take this to the Sénéchal," said John angrily. "If you don't +want to come you can wait here. If you don't make less noise, I will +knock you on the head myself," and he jumped down into the boat, and +took the dead man from Trevna, and laid him carefully in the bows. The +others jumped in, and Peter, sooner than be knocked on the head or left +behind, sulkily followed, and sat himself on the extreme edge of the +stern as far away from the dead man as he could get. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +HOW JULIE MEDITATED EVIL + + +Nance had crouched all the morning, in the bracken above Brenière, on +the knife-edge of expectancy. And behind her, at a safe distance, +crouched Julie Hamon, watching Nance and L'Etat at the same time, as a +cat in the shade watches a sparrow playing in the sunshine. + +"What will be the end? What will be the end?" sighed Nance. They had all +gone down out of sight, across there, and it was terrible to sit here +waiting, waiting, waiting for what she feared. + +If they had indeed run Gard to his hiding-place, as Philip Vaudin had +said, there could be but one possible end to it; and she sat, sad-eyed +and wistful, waiting for them to come up again. + +It seemed as if they would never come, and she never took her eyes off +the rock wall on L'Etat. + +And then at last she sprang to her feet. One of them had come up again. +She could not see which. Then the others appeared, and they seemed to +stand talking. Then one went off round the slope and another ran after +him, and the other two went back into the rock wall. + +What could they be at? She stood gazing intently. + +The two came up again, and--yes--they carried something, or one of them +did, and they two went off round the corner also. And presently she saw +the boat coming round, and saw by its head that it was for the Creux. +She turned and sped across by the same way as yesterday, and Julie +followed her at a safe distance. And it seemed to Nance, as she hurried +through the familiar hedge-gaps and lanes and across the headlands, that +the world had lost its brightness, and that life was desperately hard +and trying. + +On Derrible Head there might be a chance of seeing. She ran up to the +highest point by the old cannon, just as the boat was coming in under La +Conchée. + +And--oh, mon Dieu! mon Dieu! yes--there, in the bows, lay the body of a +man!--and the tears she had kept back all day broke out now in a fury of +weeping. She could hardly see, but she ran on, falling at times and +bruising herself, staggering to her feet again, stumbling blindly +through a mist of tears. + +The boat was drawn up by the time she got there, and a curious crowd +surrounded it. She pushed through. She must see. + +And then the weight fell off her heart, and it was all she could do to +keep from screaming. For this poor thing, whatever it was, was not +Stephen Gard and never had been. + +She wanted to sing and dance and scream her joy aloud. They had not +found him. + +"What is this, John Drillot?" asked Julie, alongside her, black with +anger, as she pointed to the body. + +"Ma fé--a ghost, they say. John Trevna shot him, but he had been dead a +long time before that, though he was alive last night, for Peter had +hold of his leg as he ran." + +"And where is the other--the one you went for?" + +"He's not on L'Etat, anyway, ma fille," and they lifted the body on to a +piece of sailcloth, and carried it off through the tunnel for the +Sénéchal to look into. + +So Stephen Gard's hiding-place had proved effective, and they had not +found him. But, of a certainty, he must be starving, and so away home +sped Nance, to prepare a parcel of food to take across to him. And +Julie, her black brows pinched together and her face set in a frown of +venomous intention, never once let her out of her sight. + +It was after midnight when Nance stole across the fields, carrying her +little parcel and her swimming-bladders, and made her way to Brenière +point. + +It was a still night, with a sky full of stars, and her heart was high +for the moment, though when her thoughts ran on, in spite of her, it +fell again. For things could not go on this way for ever, and she saw no +way out. + +She dropped her outer things by a bush, and let herself quietly down the +rocks and into the water, and the black-faced woman who presently stood +by that bush snarled curses after her and was filled with unholy +exultation. For Nance could have only one reason for going across there, +and on the morrow the men should hear of it, and she would give them no +rest till Gard was made an end of. + +What that thing was that they had brought home, she did not know, but +they were fools to be satisfied with that when the man they had gone +after was undoubtedly still on the rock. + +So she sat down by Nance's gown and cloak, and revolved schemes for her +discomfiture and the undoing of Stephen Gard. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +HOW HOPE CAME ONCE AGAIN + + +Nance found the passage of the Race more trying then ever before. The +strain of these latter days had been very great, and the thought of +Bernel tended to unnerve her. + +On the other hand, the knowledge that Gard had outwitted the whole +strength of the Island cheered and braced her, and she struggled +valiantly through the broken waters till at last she hung panting on the +black ledge where she was in the habit of landing. + +She scrambled up among the boulders and made straight for the great +wall. She had decided in her own mind that he would probably be +somewhere in there, possibly afraid to come out, as he would not know if +the Sark men were still on the rock. + +As nearly as she could, she climbed to the place she had seen the men go +in, and then she cried softly, "Steve! Mr. Gard!" and went on calling, +as she moved up and down along the base of the wall. + +And at last her heart jumped wildly as she heard her name faintly from +inside the wall, and presently Gard himself came crawling from under the +big slab and jumped down to her side. + +"Nance! You are a good angel to me," and he flung his arms round her and +kissed her again and again. + +"But oh, my dear, I would not have you risk your life for me like +this." + +"It is nothing. I am all right," said Nance, forgetting the weariness +and dangers of the passage in her joy at finding him alive and well. "I +have brought you food," and she pushed her little parcel into his hands. + +"I hardly dare to eat it when I think what it has cost you." + +"That would be foolish, and you must be starving." + +"Truly, I am hungry--" + +"Eat, then!" and she seized the package and began to tear it open. "It +will make me still more glad to see you eat." + +"Well, then--" and Nance was gladder than ever that she had come. + +"Have they all gone back?" he asked anxiously, as he munched. + +"They came back this morning, bringing a strange dead man." + +"I know. I put him there--" + +"Who is he?" + +"I found him in a cave inside the rock. He had been left there very many +years ago with his hands and feet tied. I think he must have been a +Customs officer of long ago." + +Nance shivered, and he felt it. + +"You are cold, Nance dear, and I am thinking only of myself;" and he +took off his jacket and put it over her slim wet shoulders, in spite of +herself. + +"If they have all gone back we could go to the shelter. They may have +left some of the things there;" and they went along and found the cloak +and blanket, and he wrapped them about her. + +"I found a still larger cave out of the other one, and I was in there +when they came after me. I had put the dead man in the tunnel, and when +I came back he was gone; but I did not dare to come out, for I was +afraid they might be on the watch still." + +"The dead man frightened them. I do not think they will come back. They +are afraid of ghosts." + +"I hoped he would scare them. But what is to be the end of it all, Nance +dear? Things cannot go on this way. Would it be possible to get me a +boat and let me get over to Guernsey?" + +"If you will wait a little time, that is what we must do, if the truth +does not come out." + +"And meanwhile you may be drowned in trying to keep me from starving." + +"I shall not be drowned and you shall not starve," she said resolutely. + +"I would sooner live on puffins' eggs than have you swim across that +place. My heart goes right down into my feet when I think of it." + +"There is no need. I am all right." + +"The Sénéchal and the Seigneur could not stop them?" + +"Mr. Le Pelley is in Guernsey still. The Sénéchal they would not listen +to. But the truth will come out if only you will wait." + +"If I get away, will you come to me, Nance? And all my life I will give +to making you happy." + +"Yes, I will come. But it will be sore leaving Sark. To a Sark-born +there is no other place in the world like Sark." + +"All my life I will give to making up for it." + +"We will see. Now I must go, or it will be daylight before I get back." + +"I shall be in misery till I know you are safe." + +"It will be nearly light. I will wave to you from Brenière;" and they +went slowly round to the ledges, and parted with kisses; and in the grey +morning light he could, for a time, follow the little white figure as it +slipped bravely through the bristling black waves of the Race. + +But presently he could see her no more, and could but wait, full of +anxiety and many prayers, for the signal that should tell of her safety. + +But it did not come, and he grew desperate and full of fears. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +HOW JULIE'S SCHEMES FELL FLAT + + +Nance found the return journey still more trying to her strength, but +she struggled through, and was devoutly thankful when the slack water +under Brenière was reached. + +She waded ashore almost too weary to stand, and had to cling to the +rough rocks till she recovered her breath. Then, slowly and heavily, she +dragged herself up the lower ledges to the little plateau where her +clothes were. + +Julie had sat revolving grim schemes in that black head of hers. + +She hated the girl. She hated Gard. She hated Sark and every one in it. +Why had she ever come into these outer wilds? She would have done with +it all and get away back to the life that was more to her taste. + +But first--yes, mon Dieu, she would leave them something to remember her +by. + +She had not a doubt that Gard was still on L'Etat. Nothing else would +take this girl across there. The shameless hussy!--to go swimming across +to see her man with nothing but a white shift on! + +She could wound Gard through Nance. She could wound Nance through Gard. + +She could wait for the girl as she came up the side of the Head, and +push her down again or crush her with a lump of rock. + +But that might mean reprisals on the part of the Islanders. She had had +experience of the way in which they resented any ill done to one of +their number by an outsider. She had no wish to join Gard on his rock. + +It would be better to hold the girl up to the scorn and contempt of the +neighbours; that would punish her. And by setting the men on Gard's +track again, that would punish him and her too. + +And so she restrained the natural violence of her temper, which would +have run to rocks and bodily injury, and waited in the bracken till +Nance came stumbling along in the half-light. Then up she sprang, with +an unexpectedness that for the moment took Nance's breath and set her +heart pounding with dreadful certainties of ghosts. + +"So this is how you go to visit your fancy monsieur on the rock, is it, +little Nance? And with nothing on but that! Oh shame! What will the +neighbours say when they hear how you swim across to him, and you will +not dare deny it?" + +But Nance, relieved in her mind on the score of ghosts, and regaining +her composure with her breath, simply turned her back on her and +proceeded as if she were not there. + +"And he is there still!" screamed Julie, dancing round with rage to keep +face to face with her. "I was sure of it, though those fools could not +find him. I'll see that he's found or starved out, b'en sûr! Yes, if I +have to go myself and see to it. As for you--shameless one!--it's the +last time you'll swim across there, yes indeed!"--and she raved on and +on, as only an angry woman with a grievance can. + +Nance slipped her dress over her head and, under cover of it, dropped +off her wet undergarment, coolly wrung it out, put on her cloak and +walked away, Julie raging alongside with wild words that tumbled over +one another in their haste. + +Nance walked to the highest point behind Brenière, and waved her white +garment a dozen times to let Gard know she was safe, and then turned and +set off home through the waist-high bracken and the great cushions of +gorse. And close alongside her went Julie, raging and raving the worse +for her silence; for there is nothing so galling to an angry soul as to +find its most venomous shafts fall harmless from the triple mail of +quiet self-possession. + +So they came through the other cottages to La Closerie, but the +neighbours were all asleep, and those who woke at the sound of her +violence, turned over and said, "It's only that mad Frenchwoman in one +of her tantrums. Why, in Heaven's name, can't she go to sleep, like +other folks?" + +Nance went into her own house and quietly closed the door. Julie +hammered on it with her fists, as she would dearly have liked to hammer +on Nance's face, and then cursed herself off into her own place, +slamming the door with such violence as to waken all the fowls and set +all the pigs grunting in their sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +HOW AN ANGEL CAME BRINGING THE TRUTH + + +Gard's eyes, straining into the dimness of the coming dawn through what +seemed to him a most terrible long time, so packed was it with anxious +fears, caught at last the white flicker of Nance's signal, and he +dropped down just where he stood, among the rough stones of the ridge, +with a grateful sigh. + +The strain was telling on him. He felt physically weak and worn. Nance's +devoted love and courage made his heart beat high, indeed, but his fears +on her account strung his laxed cords to breaking point, and then left +them looser than before. + +He must get away somehow, if only to prevent this constant and terrible +risking of her life on his behalf. + +He hardly dared to hope that his strategy with the dead man would be of +any permanent benefit to him, though there was no knowing. Examination +of the body would show that it had been dead for very many years, but +his knowledge of the Island superstitions made him doubt if any Sark man +would willingly spend a night on L'Etat for a very long time to come. + +On the other hand, if the result of their discussions confirmed them in +the belief that he was still there, and if, as he constantly feared, +they should learn of Nance's comings, and visit upon her the venom they +harboured for him, they might so invest the rock that escape would be +impossible. + +Meagre living, starvation even, he would suffer rather than live more +amply at risk of Nance's life, but if the hope of ultimate escape was +taken from him then he might as well give in at once and have done with +it. + +So he lay there, in the broken rocks of the ridge, and looked grimly on +life. And the sun rose in a red ball over France, and cleft a shining +track across the grey face of the waters, and drew up the mists and +thinned away the clouds, till the great plain of the sea and the great +dome above were all deep flawless blue, and he saw a thin white curl of +smoke rise from the miners' cottages on Sark. + +He lay there listless, nerveless, careless of life almost, an Ishmael +with every man's hand against him--worse off than Ishmael, he thought, +since Ishmael had a desert in which to wander, and he was tied to this +bare rock. + +But there was Nance! There was always Nance. And at thought of her, his +bruised soul found somewhat of comfort and courage once more. + +He felt her quivering in his arms again as he pressed her close. He felt +again the willing surrender of her sweet wet face. And the thought of it +thrilled his cold blood and set it coursing through his veins like new +life. Yes, truly, while there was Nance there was hope. + +Perhaps the Sénéchal and the Vicar would prevail upon them. Perhaps they +would give it up and leave him alone, and then Nance would find him a +boat and they would get across to Guernsey. Perhaps, as she kept +insisting, something would happen to discover the truth. + +So he lay, while the sun mounted high and baked him on the bare stones, +but he did not find it hot. + +And then, of a sudden, he stiffened and lay watching anxiously. For +there, from out the Creux had come a boat--and another, and another, and +another--four boat-loads of them again! + +So they were coming, after all, and his hopes died sudden death. + +Well--let them come and take him and have their will. He was not the +first who had paid the price for what he had not done, and human nature +must fall to pieces if hung too long on tenterhooks. + +He watched them listlessly. He could crawl into his innermost cavern, of +course, and could hold it against them all till the end of time, which +in this case would be but a trifling span, for a man must eat to live. +But what was the use? As well die quick as slow, since there could be +but one end to it. And then, to his very great surprise, the boats crept +slowly out of sight round the corner of Coupée Bay, and he lay +wondering. + +What could be the meaning of that? Why had they put in there? Why +couldn't they come on and finish the matter? + +The sea was all deserted again. If he had not just happened to catch +sight of them stealing across there, he would have felt sure they were +not coming to-day. + +Perhaps they were going to wait there till night, though why on earth +they should wait there instead of at the Creux, was past his +comprehension. + +And then, after a time, to his amazement, he saw them all go crawling +back the way they had come. One, two, three, four--yes, they were all +there, and they crept slowly round Lâches point and disappeared, and +left him gaping. + +It was past believing. It was altogether beyond him. He lay, with his +eyes glued to the point round which they had gone, stupid with the +wonder of it. + +They had actually given it up--for to-day, at least, and gone back! He +cudgelled his brains for the meaning of it all, till they grew dull and +weary with futile thinking. + +Perhaps Nance and the Vicar and the Sénéchal had prevailed after all! +Perhaps something had turned up at last to prove to the Sark men their +misjudgment! Perhaps--well, any way, it was good to be left alone. + +He lay there, laxed with the over-strain of all this upsetting, but +rejoicing placidly in this one more day of life. + +He felt like one granted a day's respite as he stands on the scaffold +with the rope round his neck. + +Never had the sun shone so brightly. Never had the silver sea danced so +merrily. It might be the last he would see of them. + +And the sun wheeled on towards Guernsey, and made his deliberate +preparations for a setting beyond the ordinary; for the sun, you must +know, takes a very special pride in showing the great cliffs of Sark +what he can do in the way of transformation scenes and most transcendent +colouring. + +And Stephen Gard lay there under the ridge on L'Etat, with the wonder +and beauty of it all in his face and in his heart, and said to himself +that it was probably the last sunset he would ever see, and he was glad +to have seen it at its best. + +He had a vague idea that heaven would be something like that--tenderly +soft and beautiful, and glowing with radiances of unearthly splendour, +which whispered to weary hearts of the peace and joy that lay beyond, +and gently called them home to rest. + +His theology was, without doubt, of the most elemental and objective, +and would not have carried him any great lengths in these days; but, for +the time being, at all events, it lifted its possessor to a plane of +thought above his usual, and tended to quietness and peace of mind. + +The sky right away into the east was glowing softly with the wonders of +the sunset, and there the delicate tones changed almost momentarily. As +his eye followed the tender grace of their transformations, with a +delight which he could neither have expressed nor explained, it once +more lighted suddenly upon that which he had been looking for so +anxiously all day long, and brought him to earth like a broken bird. + +Once more a boat had come round the point of Les Lâches, and this time +it was speeding towards him as fast as a sail that was as flat almost as +a board, and looked to him no more than a thin white cone, could bring +it. + +So they were coming, after all, and this wonderful sunset might be his +last indeed;--and all the tender beauty of the fleecy clouds thinned and +paled, and the glory faded as though it had all been but a glorious +bubble, and that sharp point of white, speeding across the darkening +sea, had pricked it. + +But why on earth were they coming now? They had missed the ebb, and it +was hours yet to next half-ebb, and they could not hope to land. The +white waves were boiling all along the ledges, and the sea for twenty +feet out was a surging dapple of foam laced with seething white bubbles. +It would be more than any man's life was worth to try and get ashore on +L'Etat for many an hour yet. + +And there was only one boat! What had become of all the others--of the +threatened invasion in force? He sat and watched it in gloomy wonder. + +The boat came racing on. As she cleared Brenière her white sail turned +to red gold, and the sea below grew purple. There was something white in +her bows. He got up heavily, doggedly, forced to it against his will, +and walked along the ridge to the eastern point which commanded the +landing-place on that side. + +There was, without doubt, something white in the bows of the boat, and +as he stood gazing at it, it took, to his dazed imagination, the strange +form of Nance waving joyful hands to him. + +He drew his hands across his eyes. The storm had been sore on them. + +The bristling waves of the Race burst in sheets of spray under the +glancing bows, but the white spray and the white figure and the pointed +white sail were all ablaze in the last rays of the sun, and they all +swam before him as if his head was going round. + +She came round Quette d'Amont with a fine sweep, like one bound on +business of which she had no reason to be ashamed, and dropped her sail +and lay in the shelter of the rock. + +And the white figure in the bows was truly Nance, and she was standing +and waving and calling to him. And the grey-headed man aft was surely +Philip Guille, the Sénéchal, and the faces of the rest were all +friendly. + +He stumbled hastily down to the lower ledges, but the rush and the roar +there drowned their voices. + +What were they trying to tell him? What could they want of him? + +The Sénéchal was standing, hands to mouth, waiting his chance. The +restless waters below drew back for a moment to gather for a leap, and +the big voice came booming across the tumult-- + +"Jump! We'll pick you up! All is well!" + +And Gard, without a moment's hesitation, sprang out into the marbled +foam, and struck out for the boat. + +They were all friendly hands that gripped him and hauled him over the +side, and patted him on the back to get the water out of him--all +friendly faces that were turned to him; and the dearest face of all, +lighted with a heavenly gladness, was to him as the face of an angel. + +"Tell me!" he gasped, still all astream, wits and clothes alike. And it +was the Sénéchal who told him. + +"Peter Mauger was killed last night, at the same place as Tom Hamon, and +in the same way. So these hot-blooded thickheads are convinced at last +that it wasn't your work." + +"Peter Mauger!" he said, gazing vaguely at them all. "But who--" + +"We haven't found out yet. But even the thickest of the thickheads can't +put it down to you"--and the thickheads present grinned in friendly +fashion, and they ran up the sail with a will, and turned her nose, and +went racing back to the Creux quicker than they had come. + +And Gard sat still with his hand in Nance's two, feeling very weak and +shaky, and looked vaguely back at L'Etat as it faded and dwindled into a +dim black triangle of rock. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +HOW HE CAME HOME FROM L'ETAT + + +This is what had happened. + +Since Tom Hamon's death, his friend Peter and his widow Julie had, as we +know, found themselves drawn together by a common detestation of Stephen +Gard and a common desire for his extinction. + +For Peter considered he had been supplanted in Nance's regards, though +Nance had never regarded him as anything but a nuisance and a boor. And +Julie considered herself scorned and slighted, though Gard had never +considered her save as Tom Hamon's wife. + +It was they who had stirred up the Sark men against Gard, and they +missed no opportunity of keeping their ill brew on the boil. + +Their offensive alliance brought them much together. Peter was often at +La Closerie. He was like wax in the hands of the fiery Frenchwoman, and +she moulded him to her will. The neighbours might have begun to talk, +but that it was obvious to all that the only bond between them at +present was their ill-will towards Gard, and in that feeling many shared +and found nothing strange in Tom's wife and Tom's chief friend joining +hands to make some one pay for his death. + +In time, if it had gone on, the neighbours would doubtless have had +plenty to say on the subject, for old wives' tongues rattled fast of a +winter's evening, when they all gathered in this house or that, and sat +on the sides of the green bed with their feet in the dry fern inside, +and the oil crasset hanging down in the midst, and plied their needles +and their tongues and wits all at once, and wrought scandalously good +guernseys and stockings in spite of it all. + +But these were summer evenings yet, and the _veilles_ had not begun, and +reputations were out at grass till the time came round for their +inspection and judgment. + +And so, when Peter Mauger never reached home the night before this day +of which we are telling, his old housekeeper, whatever she thought about +it at the time, only said afterwards that she supposed he had stopped +somewhere and would turn up all right in the morning, though she +admitted that he was not in the habit of staying out of a night. Anyway, +she was an old woman and all alone, and she was not going out to look +for him at that time of night. + +The morning surprised her by his continued absence. Never in his life, +so far as she knew, had he behaved like this before. Vituperation of him +gave place to anxiety about him. + +She questioned the neighbours. All they knew was that he had been seen +going down to Little Sark soon after sunset. + +"That black Frenchwoman of Tom Hamon's twists him round her finger," +said one. + +"You tie him up, Mrs. Guille," chuckled another, "or sure as beans +she'll steal him from you and leave you in the cold." + +And then, who should they see coming striding along the road but Madame +Julie herself, and evidently in a hurry;--in a state of red-hot +excitement, too, as she drew near. And they waited, hands on hips, to +hear what she was up to now. + +"Where's Peter?" she demanded, a long way in advance. "Tell him I want +him. That man Gard is still on L'Etat, though those fools who went +across for him couldn't find him. Cré nom! What are you all staring at, +then?" + +"Where's our Peter?" demanded Mrs. Guille shrilly, with the strident +note of fear in her voice, as she becked and bobbed towards the +Frenchwoman like an aged cormorant. + +"Peter? I'm asking you. I want him. Where is he?" + +"He went to Little Sark last night, and he's never come home." + +"Never come home? Why, what's taken him? If he'd been with me last night +he'd have seen something! That Nance Hamon swam across to the rock with +nothing on but her shift to take food to Gard, and I caught her at +it--the shameless hussy!" + +"Maybe Peter's heard of it an' gone across with 'em again," suggested +one. "He was terrible hot against Gard." + +"And reason he had to be hot against him," cried Julie. "Who'll find out +for me where he's got to, and when they're going out after Gard? I would +go too and see the end of him." + +A couple of burly husbands came rolling round the corner towards their +breakfasts and caught her words. + +"Doubt you'll have to go alone, mistress," said one, phlegmatically. +"There's ghosts on L'Etat, they do say, though sure the one John +Drillot brought across was dead enough." + +"If he's there," said the other, plumbing Julie's feelings, "he's safe +as a pig in a pen." + +"Where's our Peter?" demanded Mrs. Guille. + +"Peter? I d'n know. What's come of him?" and they stared blankly at her. + +"He went to Little Sark last night to see her"--with a beck of distaste +towards Julie--"and he's never come home." + +The men looked from the speaker to Julie, as though the next word +necessarily lay with her. + +"I never set eyes on him. I was out after that girl. I came here to tell +him about Gard. Has he been to the harbour?" + +"No, he hasn't. We are from there now." + +"He's maybe with some of them arranging about going to L'Etat," said +Julie. "I'll go and find out;" and she set off along the road past the +windmill. + +The morning passed in fruitless enquiries. She asked this one and that, +every one she could think of, if they had seen Peter, and was met +everywhere with meaning grins and point-blank denials. Apparently no one +had set eyes on Peter, and every one seemed to imply that she ought io +know more about him than any one else. + +It was past mid-day before she was back at Vauroque, but Mrs. Guilie was +still standing in the doorway of Peter's empty house as if she had been +looking out for news of him ever since. + +"Eh b'en? Have you found him?" she cried. + +"Not a finger of him!" snapped Julie savagely, tired out with her +fruitless labours. + +"Then he's come to some ill, bà sú. And if he has--ma fé, it's +you!--it's you!" The old lady's scream of denunciation choked itself +with its own excess, and the neighbours came running out to learn the +news. + +Stolid minds travel in grooves, and old Mrs. Guille's had been groping +along possibilities of all kinds, clinging at the same time to the hope +that Peter would still turn up all right. + +Now that her hope was shattered her mind dropped naturally into a grim +groove, along which it had taken a tentative trip during the morning and +had recoiled from with a shudder. + +The last time Mrs. Tom Hamon had come seeking a man who was missing, +that man had been found under the Coupée, and so old Mrs. Guille set oft +for the Coupée as fast as her old legs and her want of breath and +general agitation would let her. + +"Nom de Dieu! What--?" began Julie, with twisted black brows, and then +drifted on with the rest in Mrs. Guille's wake--all except one or two +housewives whose men were due for dinner, and knew they must be fed +whatever had come to Peter Mauger. + +"Gaderabotin!" said one of these as he came up, and stood scratching his +head and gazing down the road after them. "What's taken them all?" + +"Think because they found Tom Hamon there, they'll find Peter too," +guffawed another, and they rolled on into their homes, chuckling at the +simplicity of women and children. + +Arrived at the Coupée, the little mob of sensation-seekers peered +fearfully about. One small boy, cleverer or more groovy-minded than the +rest, struck off along the headland to the left. It was from there +Charles Guille had seen Tom Hamon. Perhaps from there he would see +something, too. + +And no sooner was he there, where he could see to the foot of the cliffs +in Coupée Bay, than he commenced to dance and wave his arms like a mad +thing, because the words he wanted to shout choked him tight so that he +could hardly breathe. + +They streamed out along the cliff and huddled there, struck chill with +fright in spite of the blazing sun. + +For there, under the cliff, in the same spot as they found Tom Hamon, +lay another dark, huddled figure, and they knew it must be Peter. + +The finding of Tom had filled them with anger against Gard. The finding +of Peter filled them with fear. + +Gard had sufficed as explanation and scapegoat for Tom's death, and as +vent for their feelings. But what of Peter's? + +It had not been Gard, then? And if not Gard, who? + +For, whoever it was, he was still at large, and any of them might be the +next. + +There were new terrors in the eyes that gazed so wildly on the narrow +white path and the towering pinnacles of the Coupée. They had been +familiar with it all, all their lives, but suddenly it had become +strange to them. + +If grisly Death, all bones and scythe, had come stalking along it before +their eyes at that moment, they would have shrieked, no doubt, and +fallen flat, but he would have no more than answered to their feelings +and fulfilled their expectations. + +As it was, when the Seigneur's big white stallion stuck his head over +the green dyke behind them, and gave a shrill neigh at the unexpected +sight of so many people in a field which was usually occupied only by +Charles Guille's two mild-eyed cows and their calves, the women screamed +and the children lied. + +"Man doux! but I thought it was the devil himself," said old Mrs. +Guille. "Oui-gia!" and shook an angry fist at him. + +But the discoverer of the body was already away along the road to +Vauroque, covering the ground like a little incarnation of ill-news. + +The exertion of running cleared away the choking, if it took his breath. +He shouted as he drew near the houses. + +"Ah, bah!" growled one of the diners inside. "What's to do now, then?" + +"He's there ... Peter ... under Coupée ... Where Tom Hamon...." panted +the news-bearer as he tore past to his own home. And the rest of +Vauroque emptied itself into the road and stood looking along it, as the +stragglers came up, white-faced and wild-eyed. + +"He's there," confirmed one woman, twisting up her loosened hair. "And +just same place where Tom Hamon lay." + +"'Tweren't Gard killed _him_, then," said one of the diners, chewing +over that thought with his last mouthful. + +"Nor Tom neither, then, maybe," said another. + +"We've bin on wrong tack, then;" and they went off round the corner at a +speed their build would hardly have credited them with. + +One to the Sénéchal and one to the Doctor, and then to the Creux, both +telling the news as they went. So that when the officials came hurrying +through the tunnel the greater part of the Island was waiting for them +on the shingle, except those who preferred the wider view from the +cliff above. + +Some of the men had been for pulling across at once, but they were +overborne. + +"Doctor said he'd like to have seen him afore he was moved last time," +said old John de Carteret weightily, and would not let a boat go out +till the Doctor and the Sénéchal came. + +It was all waiting for them the moment they arrived, however, and they +stepped in and swung away round Les Lâches, and three other boats +followed them so closely that it looked almost like a gruesome race who +should get there first. + +There was little talking in any of the boats, but there was some solid +hard thinking, in a mazed kind of way. + +Until they knew more of the facts, indeed, they scarce knew what to +think yet. But more than one of them remembered disturbedly how they had +gone in force two days before to fetch Gard off his lonely rock, or to +make an end of him there; and here they were going in force on a very +different errand--an errand which, they could not help seeing, would +bring him off his rock in a very different way, if this present matter +was what it looked as if it might be. + +And the Doctor was not long in giving them the facts, when they had run +up on to the shingle, and then crunched through it to the place where +Peter's body lay under the steep black cliff--in the exact spot where +Tom Hamon's had lain just eighteen days before. + +But that it was undoubtedly Peter's face and body, those who had come +after Tom the last time might have thought they were going through their +previous experience over again. It was all so like. + +They all stood round in a dark, silent group while the Doctor carefully +examined the body, and the Sénéchal looked on with stern and troubled +face. + +"It is most extraordinary," said the Doctor, straightening up from his +task at last, and his face, too, was knitted with perplexity, but had +something else in it besides. "This man has been done to death in +exactly the same way as Hamon"--a rustle of surprise shook the group of +silent onlookers. "The head has been beaten in just as Hamon's was--with +some blunt rounded tool, I should say. These other wounds and contusions +are the results of his fall down the cliff. He has been dead at least +eight hours. Lift him carefully, men. We can do nothing more +here--unless by chance the one who did it flung his weapon after him, +and we could find it." + +They scattered, and searched the whole dark bay minutely, but found +nothing. Then with rough gentleness they bore the body to the boat and +laid it under the thwarts. + +"Men!" said the Sénéchal weightily, as they were just about to climb +back into their boats. "This matter brings another matter home to all +our hearts. You have been persecuting another man under the belief that +he killed Tom Hamon. From what some of us knew of Mr. Gard, we were +certain he could have had no hand in it. This, I take it, proves it?" He +looked at the Doctor. + +"Undoubtedly!" nodded the Doctor. "The man who killed this one killed +the other, and that man could not be Stephen Gard, for he is on L'Etat." + +"It's God's mercy that you haven't Mr. Gard's blood on your heads. Some +of you, I know, have done your best that way. Suppose you had killed +him that other night--what would you have felt as you stood here to-day? +Take that thought home with you, and may God keep you from like +misjudgment in the future!" + +And they had not a word to say for themselves, but crawled silently +aboard, and in silence pulled back to Creux Harbour. + +Once only old John de Carteret spoke to the Sénéchal, soon after they +had started. + +"One of them"--nodding over at the boats behind--"could go to the rock +and bring him off," he suggested. + +"I thought of that, but there's one I want to go with me. She'll be down +at the Creux, I expect, and we'll go as soon as we've disposed of this." + +There was a very different feeling visible in the silent crowd that +awaited them at the harbour this time from that manifested on the last +occasion, Then, it was a sympathetic anger that united them all in a +common feeling against the perpetrator of the deed. Now--even before the +whisper had run round that Peter Mauger had been done to death in the +same way as Tom Hamon--fear was among them, and doubt. Fear of they knew +not exactly what, and doubt of they knew not whom. + +But here were two men done to death in their midst, and the man on whom +all their suspicions had settled in the first case could not possibly +have had anything to do with the second, and so had most likely had +nothing to do with either--in which case the man who had was still at +large among them, and no man's life was safe, much less any woman's or +child's. + +Their thoughts did not run, perhaps, quite so clearly as that, but that +was the result of it all, and their faces showed it. Furthermore, every +man and woman there began at once to cast about in his and her mind for +the possible murderer, and men looked at the neighbours whom they had +known all their lives, with lurking suspicions in their eyes and the +consideration of strange possibilities in their minds. + +Tom Hamon's death had bound them closer together; Peter Mauger's set +them all apart. The strange dead man up in the school-house added to +their discomfort. + +It was not until the hastily-constructed litter with its gruesome burden +had been sent off to the Boys' School, in charge of the constables and +the Doctor, that the Sénéchal caught sight of Nance's eager white face +and anxious eyes, in the crowd that lingered still in answer to another +whisper that had flown round. + +If they were at once pig-headed and hot-blooded and suspicious, they +were also warm-hearted and willing to atone for a mistake--once they +were sure of it. + +No crowd followed Peter on his last journey but one, though the whole +Island had swarmed after Tom Hamon. + +They wanted to see the man who would have been killed for killing Tom, +though he didn't do it, but for--circumstances, and his own pluck and +endurance. + +And when the Sénéchal beckoned to one of the circumstances, and put his +hand on her slim shoulder, and said-- + +"We are going for him. I thought you would like to come too," her face +went rosy with gratitude, and the brave little hands clasped up on to +her breast, as she murmured-- + +"Oh, M. le Sénéchal!" and choked at anything more. + +Those nearest gave her rough words of encouragement. + +"Cheer up, Nance! You'll soon have him back!" + +"That's a brave garche! Don't cry about it now!" + +"We'll make it up to him, lass. We'll all come and dance at the +wedding"--and so on. + +But the Sénéchal patted her on the shoulder and asked-- + +"And where is your brother? He should come, too. I hear you have both +been in this matter." + +"Ah, monsieur!" she said, with brimming eyes and a pathetic little lift +and fall of the hand, which expressed far more than she could put into +words. "We fear ... we fear he is drowned. He swam out to the rock taking +food, and ... and ... we have not seen him since;" and her hand was over +her face and the tears streaming through. + +"Mon Dieu! Another!" said the Sénéchal, aghast. "When, child? When was +this?" + +"The night after the storm, monsieur." + +"Perhaps he is there, on the rock." + +"No, monsieur. I was over there myself last night. He never got there, +and we fear he must be drowned." + +"You were over there, child? Why, how did you get across?" + +"I swam, monsieur;" and he stared at her in amazement. + +"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! You make up for some of the others," he said +bluntly. "Come then, and we will make sure of this one, anyhow;" and he +led the way to John de Carteret's boat, and all the people gave them a +cheer as they pulled out of the harbour to catch the breeze off the +Lâches. + +Then the crowd waited for their return, and talked by snatches of all +these strange happenings, and discussed and discounted the chances of +Bernel's being still alive. + +"For, see you, the Race! And that was the first night after the storm, +and it would be running like the deuce, bidemme!" "It's best not to know +how to swim if it leads you to do things like that, oui-gia!" "When a +man's time comes, he cuts his cleft in the water, whether he can swim or +not, crais b'en!" "And that slip of a Nance had been over there last +night--par madé, some folks have the courage!" "All the same, it was +madness--" + +But behind all the broken chatter, in every mind was the grim question, +"Who is it, then, that is doing these things amongst us?" And there was +a feeling of mighty discomfort abroad. + +All the same, they cheered vigorously as the boat came speeding back, +and they saw Gard sitting between Nance and the Sénéchal, and crowded +round as it ran up the shingle, and would have lifted him out and +carried him shoulder-high through the tunnel and up the road, if he +would have had it. + +They saw how his imprisonment on the rock--"Ma fé, think of it!--all +through that storm, too!"--had told upon him. His cheeks were hollow, +and his eyes sunken, and he looked very weary--"and, man doux, no +wonder, after eighteen days on L'Etat!"--though their friendly shouts +had put a touch of colour in his face and a spark in his eyes for the +moment. + +"Now, away home, all of you!" ordered the Sénéchal. "We've all had +enough to think about for one day. To-morrow we will see what is to be +done." + +"Too much!" croaked one old crone, who had something of a reputation +among her neighbours. "What I want to know is--who killed Peter Mauger?" + +And that was the question that occupied most minds in Sark that night. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +HOW THEY LAID TRAPS FOR THE DEVIL + + +The Doctor insisted on taking care of Gard. He took him into his own +house at Dixcart, and began at once a course of treatment based on +common-sense and the then most scientific attainment, and calculated to +repair the waste of the Rock and build him up anew in the shortest time +compatible with an efficient and permanent cure. + +Even when Gard felt quite himself again and would have returned to his +work, the genial autocrat would not hear of it. + +"Just you stop here, my boy," he ordered. "An experience such as you +have had needs some getting over. You can stand a good rest and some +fattening up, and those ---- mines must wait." + +Meanwhile, the Island was in a smoulder of suspicion and superstition. + +No one had yet ventured openly to point the finger at any reasonably +possible doer of deeds so dark. Behind carefully closed doors of a +night, indeed, here and there a whisper suggested that the Frenchwoman +might be at the bottom of it all. But the mistake that had already been +made, and the consequences that came so terribly near to completing it +beyond repair, made them all cautious of open speech or action. + +Gard's story explained the mystery of the dead stranger and relieved the +public mind to that extent. + +The Sénéchal was disposed to agree with his views on the matter. + +"I never heard of those caves on L'Etat," he said musingly, as they sat +over their pipes one night; "and I'm sure no one else knew of them. But +there was much free-trading round here in the old times, and I've no +doubt many a Customs man disappeared and was never heard of again, just +like this one. All the Islands felt very sore about the new regulations, +and our people stick at nothing when their blood is up." + +"They do not," said Gard feelingly. + +"I'd like to get into that inner cave," said the Doctor longingly. + +"You couldn't," said Gard, looking at his size and girth. "It's a mighty +tight squeeze under the slab, and that tunnel would beat you. Unless +you've been brought up to that kind of thing, you couldn't stand it. It +would give you nightmares for the rest of your life." + +"That's a rare lass, that little Nance," said the Sénéchal. "There's +some good in Sark after all, Mr. Gard." + +"She was an angel to me," said Gard with feeling. "If it had not been +for her, I could never have held out. Not for what she brought me, but +the fact that she came. But it was terrible to me to think of her coming +through that Race. I begged her not to, but she would have her way. +Three times she risked her life for me--" + +"Three times!" said the Sénéchal. "Ma fé, but she's a garche to be proud +of!" + +"Ay, and to be more than proud of," said Gard. "She has given me my +life, and I will give it all to making her happy." + +"I wouldn't swim across to L'Etat for any woman in the world," said the +Doctor. "Because, in the first place, I couldn't. She must have nerves +of steel, to say nothing of muscles. In the dark, too! And you wouldn't +think it to look at her." + +"It needed more than nerves or muscles," said Gard quietly. + +Not a man among the Islanders--much less a woman--would go anywhere near +the Coupée after dark. Even Nance confessed to a preference for daylight +passages. And Gard, when he went down into Little Sark for a walk, as +part of his cure, could not repress a cold shiver whenever he passed the +fatal spot where two men had gone over to their deaths. + +All the old wives' tales were dug up and passed along, growing as they +went. Little eyes and mouths grew permanently rounded with horrors, and +the ground was thoroughly well spaded and planted with sturdy shoots +warranted to yield a noisome harvest of superstition for generations to +come. + +The occupants of Clos Bourel and Plaisance carefully locked their doors +of a night now. + +Old Mrs. Carré at Plaisance vowed she had heard the White Horses go +past, on the nights before Tom Hamon and Peter were found. And every one +knew that when the ghostly horses were heard, some one was going to die. +But as she had said nothing about it before, her contribution to the +general uneasiness was received with respect before her face but with +open doubt behind her back. + +Old Nikki Never-mind-his-name--lest his descendants, if he had any, +take umbrage at the matter--swore that he had not only seen the ghostly +steed pass Vauroque in the dead of night, but that it bore a rider whose +head was carried carefully in his right hand. Unfortunately, the +headless one passed so quickly that Nikki said he could not distinguish +his features--having looked for them first in the wrong place--and so he +could not say for certain who the next to die would be; but from the +knowing wag of his head the neighbours were of opinion that he knew more +than he chose to tell, and he gained quite a reputation thereby. + +But, even here again, doubts were cast upon the matter by some, +especially those who were acquainted with the old gentleman's +proclivities towards raw spirits of the material kind that paid the +lightest of duties in Guernsey. + +All these and very many similar matters were discussed by the +Doctor--who disturbed their minds with horrific accounts of homicidal +mania taking possession of apparently innocent souls--and the Sénéchal +and the Vicar and Stephen Gard, as they sat over their pipes of an +evening in the Doctor's house. But chiefly the great and troublesome +question of "Who?" + +They were all of one mind that the matter must be looked into. The +feeling that a danger was loose in the Island, and might at any moment +fall upon any man, woman, or child, was past endurance. The suspicion +that It might be any one of those they met every day was insufferable. + +The only difficulty was to decide how to look into it--what to do, and +how. + +Each day they feared to hear of some new outrage. But until the +perpetrator was discovered they could do nothing towards his +suppression. And, on the other hand, it looked as though they could do +nothing towards his discovery until he perpetrated some new outrage. + +It was Gard who suggested they should watch the Coupée every night, +armed, and unknown to any but themselves. + +And, after much discussion, following out his idea, he and the Sénéchal +and the Doctor, who could bowl over a rabbit as well as any of them, lay +in the heather, on the common above the cutting on the Little Sark side, +for many nights, guns in hand, and eyes and ears on the strain, but saw +and heard nothing. + +One night, indeed, when there was a high wind, the Doctor's marrow +crawled in his backbone at the sound of groanings and moanings and most +dolorous cries for help, coming up out of black Coupée Bay, where they +had picked up Tom Hamon's and Peter Mauger's dead bodies. + +He sweated cold terrors, for he was on the east headland right above the +bay, till the Sénéchal crawled over to him and whispered-- + +"Hear 'em?" + +"Y-y-yes. What the d-d-deuce and all--" + +"Knew you'd wonder what it was--" + +"W-w-wonder?" chittered the Doctor. + +"It's only the wind in the cave at the corner below here--" + +"Ah! Thought it must be something of that kind," said the Doctor through +his teeth, clenched hard to keep them in order. "Don't wonder folks +fight shy of the Coupée. Sounded uncommonly like spirits. Might give +some folks the jumps." + +On another dark and windy night it was the Sénéchal's turn to get +something of a fright. + +As he lay in the heather, gun in hand, and well wrapped up in his big +cloak, with all his faculties concentrated on the wavering pathway +below, it seemed to him that he heard slow heavy footsteps approaching. + +His nerves were strung tight. He craned his head to look down into the +cutting, when suddenly there came a wild snuffle at the back of his +neck, and as he jumped up with a startled yelp, one part anger and nine +parts fright, a horse that had grazed down upon him in the darkness, +leaped back with a snort and a squeal and disappeared into the night. + +"Ga'rabotin! but I thought it was the devil himself," said the Sénéchal, +as the others came hurrying up. "Why the deuce can't people tie up their +horses as they do their cows? I'll bring it up at the next Chef +Plaids"--which consideration restored his shaken equanimity somewhat, +and made him feel himself again. + +Nothing more came of all their watching, and over a jorum of something +hot one night, after they had returned to the Doctor's house, it was +himself who said-- + +"After all, it stands to reason. Some evil-possessed soul seeks victims, +and has fixed on the Coupée as the place best fitted for his work. No +one now goes near the Coupée at night--ergo, no victims; ergo, +no--er--no manifestations." + +"H'm! Very clever!" said the Sénéchal, through his pipe. "Where does +that leave us, then?" + +"We must have a decoy, of course." + +"H'm! You'll not get any Sark man to act as decoy to the devil. Besides, +they would talk, and that would upset the whole thing." + +"What about one of your men, Gard?" + +"It's a dangerous game for any man to play, Doctor.... I don't quite see +how one could ask it of them,"--and after a pause of concentrated +thought and many slow smoke-puffs--"What would you say to me?" and all +their eyes settled on him--the Doctor's professionally. + +"Surely you have suffered enough in this matter, Mr. Gard," suggested +the Vicar. + +"I would give a good deal, and do a good deal, to get to the bottom of +it all. Things will never settle down properly till this matter is +disposed of." + +That, of course, was obvious to them all, but all had the same feeling +that he had already suffered enough in the matter. + +But consideration of the Doctor's suggestion in all its aspects only +served to convince them that, if any such scheme was to be carried out, +it could only be done among themselves, and its dangers were obvious. + +It was not a matter to be lightly undertaken by any man. For whoever +undertook the rôle of decoy, undoubtedly took his life in his hands; and +they spent many evenings over it. + +The Vicar was absolutely against the idea, but had no alternative to +suggest. + +"It is simply playing with death," said he, "and no man has a right to +do that." + +"It means a good deal for the Island if we can clear it up," said the +Sénéchal. + +But, by degrees, they got to discussion of how it might be done, and +from that to the actual doing was only a heroic step. + +The decoy's head must be well padded, of course, for the heads of both +victims had been the points of attack. + +He must be well armed also, and being forewarned and more, he ought to +be able to give a certain account of himself. + +And then the Doctor and the Sénéchal would be close at hand and on the +keen look-out for emergencies. + +The Doctor undertook to pad his head with something in the nature of a +turban under his hat, which, he vowed, would resist the impact of iron +blows better than metal itself. + +"Leave my ears loose, anyway," said Gard. "I'd like at all events to be +able to hear it coming." + +The Sénéchal had a weapon, part pistol and the rest blunderbuss, which +had belonged to his father, who had always referred to it affectionately +as his "dunderbush." It had seen strange doings in its time, but had +been so long retired from the active list, that he undertook to load and +fire it himself before he said any more about it. + +And he did it next day, with a full charge, in his meadow, with the +assistance of a gate-post and a long cord, and reported it at night as +in excellent order, and calculated to blow into smithereens anything +blowable that stood up before it within the short limit of its range. + +At this stage in its proceedings the Vicar reluctantly retired from the +Committee of Public Safety. He acknowledged the sore need of ending the +suspicious and superstitious fears which were beginning to affect the +life of the community in various ways. But he could not see his way to +any participation in means so dangerous to the life of one of their +number as those suggested. + +He did his best to dissuade Gard from it. He even reminded him of the +duty he owed to Nance. She had undoubtedly saved his life, and she had a +premier claim upon his consideration--and so on. + +To all of which Gard fully assented. + +"But," he said gravely, "we are at a deadlock in this other matter, and +it is just barely possible that this plan may clear it all up. I can't +say I'm very sanguine that it will. On the other hand, I really don't +see that any great harm can come to me. The others probably suffered +because they were taken unawares. I shall go in the hope of meeting it, +and shall be ready for it. Unless, Vicar, you really think it is the +devil or something of that sort?" + +"I don't know what to think," said the Vicar solemnly. "I cannot bring +myself to believe any of our Sark men would do such dreadful things. I +look at each man I meet and say to myself, 'Now, can it be possible it +is you?--or you?--or you?'--and it does not seem possible; and yet--" + +"And yet some one did it, Vicar," said the Doctor, brusquely, "and +that's just the trouble. Until we find out _who_ did it, any man may +have done it, and we all look at everybody else, just as you do, and say +to ourselves, 'Is it you?--or you?--or you?' Though I'm bound to say +I've not got the length yet of doubting either you or the Sénéchal, or +Gard, and I don't think it's myself. It might quite conceivably be any +one of us, however, prowling about in our sleep and utterly unconscious +afterwards of evil-doing." + +"A most awful possibility," said the Vicar. "God grant it may turn out +differently from that." + +"You never know what this inexplicable machine may do," said the Doctor, +tapping his head. "However, we'll hope for the best, and I think the +Sénéchal and I ought to be able to see Gard through without any very +disastrous results. If we succeed, he will deserve better of this Island +than any man I know--and a sight more than this Island deserves of him. +I quite understand," he said, as Gard looked quickly up. "And it does +you credit, my boy; but there are not very many men would do it." + +"Well, I'm afraid I must leave you to it," said the Vicar, and did so. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +HOW THEY LAID THE DEVIL BY THE HEELS + + +When it began to be noised abroad that Gard was going to and fro across +the Coupée, even by night, as if nothing had ever happened there, the +Sark men shrugged their shoulders and said, "Pardie!--sooner him than +me--oui-gia!" + +It was obviously necessary, however, that this should be known. Even the +cormorant does not fish where fish are never found. + +But when he went to and fro by night, he went mailed--according to the +Doctor's ideas--and armed--according to the Sénéchal's; and each night +the Doctor and the Sénéchal went quietly down, some time in advance, and +lay hidden on the headlands with their guns, and never took their eyes +off him and all his surroundings, while he was in sight. + +And Gard, in nearing the Little Sark cutting, always kept carefully to +the right-hand side of the path, though it was somewhat crumbly there +and had fallen away down the slope towards Grande Grève. For he had gone +cautiously over the ground beforehand, and decided that if there was any +possibility of being knocked overboard unawares, he would prefer to go +over the much gentler slope on the right, where one might even at a +pinch find lodgment among the rubble and bushes, than over the sheer +fall into Coupée Bay, where you could drop a stone almost to the shingle +below. + +Nance knew nothing whatever of the matter, or she would undoubtedly and +most reasonably have had something to say about it. But knowledge of it +could only upset her, and so perhaps himself, and he had carefully kept +it from her. Little Sark, moreover, was more isolated than ever by +reason of the Coupée mystery, and word of his goings and comings--save +such as had La Closerie for their object in the day-time--never reached +her. + +They were in grievous sorrow down there over Bernel. Gard still preached +hope, but each day's delay in its realisation seemed to them to make it +the more unlikely, and their hearts were very sore. + +Julie had gone about her work for days after Gard's return like a bereft +tigress. Then one morning she locked the door of her house, put the key +in her pocket, and took the cutter for Guernsey; and none regretted her +going. + +And, as it turned out, though that had not been her intention at the +time, it was the last Sark was to see of her. Rumours reached them later +of her marriage to a fellow-countryman, with whom she had gone to +France. The one thing they knew for certain was that she never came back +to La Closerie, and after due interval, and consequent on other matters, +they broke open the door and resumed possession of the house. + +Night after night Gard slowly crossed the Coupée, lingered in its +shadows, went on into Little Sark, and came lingering back. + +And night after night the Doctor and the Sénéchal lay in the heather of +the headlands, guns in hand, waiting for something that never came, and +then going stiffly home to one or other of their houses, to lubricate +their joints and console their disappointment with hot punch and much +tobacco. + +"I'm afraid it's no go," was the Doctor's grudging verdict at last, on +the fourteenth blank night. + +"Let's keep on," said Gard. "Things generally happen just when you don't +expect them." + +"That's so," grunted the Sénéchal. And they decided to keep on. + +Fortunately, the nights were warm and mostly fine. When neither moon nor +stars afforded him light enough for a safe crossing, he took a lantern, +so that no one who desired to knock him on the head need miss the chance +for lack of seeing him. + +And when, after their lonely waiting, the watchers in the heather saw +the lantern come joggling down the steep cutting from Sark, they braced +themselves for eventualities, and hefted their guns, and pricked up +their ears and made ready. + +And when it had wavered slowly along the path between the great pits of +darkness on either hand, and had gone joggling on into Little Sark, they +sank back into their formes with each his own particular exclamation, +and lay waiting till the light came back. + +Times of tension and endurance which told upon them all, but bore most +heavily on Gard, since the onslaught, when it came, must fall upon him, +and the absolute ignorance as to how and when and whence it might come, +kept every nerve within him strung like a fiddle-string. + +It was the eeriest experience he had ever had, that nightly trip across +the Coupée;--bad enough when moon or stars afforded him vague and +distorted glimpses of his ghostly surroundings:--ten times worse when +the flicker of his lantern barely kept him to the path, and the broken +gleams ran over the rugged edges and tumbled into the black gulfs at the +sides;--when every starting shadow might be a murderer leaping out upon +him, every foot of the walling darkness the murderer's cover, and every +step he took a step towards death. + +A trip, I assure you, that not many men would have been capable of. For +it did not by any means end with the Coupée. When he got to bed of a +night, and fell asleep at last, he was still crossing the Coupée with +his joggling lantern all night long, and suffered things in dreams +compared with which even his actual experiences were but holiday jaunts. + +And at times these grisly imaginings came back upon him as he actually +walked the narrow path next night, and it was all he could do to keep +his head and not fling the lantern into the depths of the pit and follow +it. + +They were all getting exceedingly weary of the whole business; indeed, +it was getting on all their nerves in a way which threatened +consequences, when, mercifully, the end came--suddenly, not at all as +they had looked for it, quite outside all their expectation. + +It was one of the shrouded nights. The Doctor and the Sénéchal, flat in +the heather, saw the lantern issue from the Sark cutting and come +joggling towards them. They heard a snort of surprise behind them, but +gave it no special heed. The Sénéchal grinned briefly at remembrance of +his fright when the beast snuffled down his neck that other night. + +Then, this is what happened. + +Gard--his lantern in his left hand, and the Sénéchal's father's +"dunderbush" in his right--his eyes pinching spooks out of every inch of +the black wall about him, and every string at its tightest--had reached +the crumbly bit of path near the Little Sark side, when, like a clap of +thunder out of a blue sky, the black silence of the cutting vomited +uproar--the wild clang and beat of what sounded, in that hollow space, +like the trampling of a thousand dancing hoofs--shrill neighings and +whinnyings and screamings, all blended into an indescribable and +blood-curdling clamour that gashed the night like an outrage. + +And then, before even he had time to wonder, the great white stallion +was upon him--dancing on its hind legs on that narrow path like an +acrobat, towering above him to twice his own height, striking savagely +down at him with its great front feet, screaming like a fiend. + +He had no time to think. His left arm and the lantern went up with the +natural instinct of defence. Just one glimpse he got--and never forgot +it--of vicious white eyes and teeth, flapping red nostrils, wild-flying +hair, and huge pawing feet descending on him, with the dirty white hair +splaying out all round them as they came down. Then his right hand went +up also, and he fired full into all these things. The lantern and the +blunderbuss went spinning into the gulf, the great feet beat him to the +ground, and rose and jabbed down at him with all the vicious might that +lay behind them--the savage white muzzle shrilling its blood-curdling +screams of triumph all the while--and all this in the space of a second. +"Good God!" cried the Doctor, craning over the eastern bank of the +cutting, but fearful of firing into the turmoil lest he should hit Gard, +so dropped himself bodily over on to the path. + +Then the Sénéchal's Sark eyes saw the great white head, with its flying +veil of hair, as it towered up for another vicious jab at the fallen +man, and he emptied both barrels of his gun into it. + +A wild scream that shrilled along the night and woke Plaisance and Clos +Bourel and Vauroque, and the great white devil reared to his fullest +with wildly beating forefeet, toppled over backwards, and disappeared +with one hideous thud and a final crash on the shingle of Coupée Bay. + +It was worse than they had ever dreamed--as bad almost as some of Gard's +own nightmares. + +"Good God! Good God! Good God!" babbled the Doctor, as he groped in the +dark for what might be left of their unfortunate decoy. + +"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!" gasped the Sénéchal, with catching +breath and shaking legs, as he ran round to join him in the search. + +But there was no sign of Gard. + +"Run, man!--Plaisance--a light!" jerked the Sénéchal. + +"I can't see," groaned the Doctor. + +"I'll go!" and he set off at the best pace his years and his shaking +legs could compass. + +Plaisance was standing at its doors, trembling still at that fearsome +cry, and wondering if it was, perchance, the last trump. + +At sight of the panting figure coming up from the Coupée, it scuttled +and banged the doors tight. "Open! Open, you fools!" cried the +Sénéchal, and flung himself against the first door, while those inside, +under the sure belief that they were keeping out the devil, heaped +themselves against it to prevent him. + +"Dolts! Idiots! Fools!" he cried. "It's me--the Sénéchal. I want your +help!" and at that a man peeped out from the next door to make sure this +was not just another wile of the devil. + +"A lantern! Quick!" ordered the Sénéchal. "And a blanket and a rope--and +get ready a bed for a wounded man. Come you with me and help!" + +"Mais, mon Gyu----!" began the man. + +"We've killed the devil, and the Doctor's down there with him----" + +"But we don't want him here, M. le Sénéchal," quavered a woman's voice, +in terror. + +"Fools! It's Mr. Gard that is hurt. The devil's down in Coupée Bay, and +we've killed him for you." + +"Ah then, Gyu marchi! Here's a blanket--and the lantern--rope's in barn. +You get a bed ready," to the woman, and they went off towards the +Coupée. + +And mighty glad the Doctor was to see them coming. He had begun to fear +the Sénéchal had lost his head and made a bolt for home. + +He had been sitting under the bank of the cutting as the surest way of +keeping out of one or other of the black gulfs. But the interval had +given him time to recover himself, and he jumped up at once, all ready +for business, and hailed them. + +"Down this side, I think," he said, and they swung the lantern over the +Grande Grève slope below the bit of crumbly pathway. + +"Le velas!" said Thomas Carré, and handed the lantern to the Sénéchal, +and let himself heavily over the side, and groped his way down to the +motionless form among the bramble bushes. + +"Pardie, he is dead, I do think!" as he bent over it. + +"Let's see!" said the Doctor's quick voice at his elbow. "Hand down the +light;" and the Sénéchal waited above in grievous anxiety. + +"Not dead," said the Doctor at last. "Stunned and badly knocked about. +He'll come round. Now, how are we to get him up?" + +"Here's a blanket--and a rope." + +"Good! The blanket!... So!... Now--gently, my man!... Got it, Sénéchal? +Right! Ease him down on to the path. That's right! Give me a hand, will +you? My legs aren't as limber as they used to be. Now we'll get him on +to a bed and see what the damage is;" and they set off slowly for +Plaisance. + +"My God, Sénéchal! That passed belief! To think of our never thinking of +that infernal brute!" said the Doctor, as they stumbled slowly along in +the joggling light. + +"He was possessed of the devil, without a doubt. That last scream of his +when he got my two bullets--" + +"'T woke us," said Carré. "And we wondered what was up. What was it, +then, monsieur?" + +"That devil of a white stallion of Le Pelley's. It was him killed Tom +Hamon and Peter Mauger, and he tried to kill Mr. Gard. We've been on +this job for weeks past, while you were all sleeping in your beds." + +"Mon Gyu! and we none of us knew anything about it till we heard yon +scream! And he's dead----" + +"He's dead--unless he's the devil," said the Sénéchal sententiously. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +HOW THEY THANKED GOD FOR HIS MERCIES + + +Vast was the wonder of the Sark folk when they heard next day of that +night's doings, and learned who the murderer of the Coupée was, and how +and by whom he had been laid by the heels. + +The whole Island breathed freely once more, and was outspokenly grateful +to the courage and pertinacity which had lifted from it the cloud and +the reproach. + +Some of them even had the grace to be not a little ashamed of their +previous doings, but ascribed the greater part of the blame to Tom's +widow and Peter Mauger. + +But it was days before Stephen Gard took any interest in the matter, +past or present, or in anything whatsoever. + +The Doctor's pad undoubtedly saved his life, but no amount of padding +could avert entirely the fiendish malignity of those merciless iron +flails. + +He lay unconscious for eight-and-forty hours; and the Doctor--though he +never breathed a word of it, and prophesied complete recovery with the +utmost cheerfulness and apparent sincerity--had his own grim fears as to +what the effect of the whole hideous event might be on one who had +already suffered such undue strain of mind and body. + +Fortunately, his fears proved groundless. On the third day, Gard +quietly opened his eyes on Nance, who had barely left his bedside since +the Sénéchal went down to La Closerie himself and brought her back with +him to Plaisance. + +"I've been asleep," he said drowsily. "Anything wrong, Nance dear?" and +he tried to sit up, but found his head heavy with cold water bandages, +and a pain about his neck and left shoulder, and his left arm in +splints, and all the rest of him one great aching bruise. + +"Why--" he murmured, in vast surprise. + +"You're to lie quite still," said Nance dictatorially, with lifted +finger. "And you're not to talk or think till the Doctor comes." + +"Give me a kiss, then!"--good prima facie evidence, this, that his brain +had suffered no permanent injury. + +"Well, he didn't say anything about that," and she bent over him and +kissed him with a brimming flood of gratitude in her blue eyes, and he +lay quiet for a time. + +"Is it dead?" he asked suddenly, with a reminiscent shudder which set +all his bruises aching. + +"The white horse? Yes, Dieu merci, it's dead! But you're not to talk or +think." + +"Give me another kiss, then!"--from which it was apparent that he knew +very well what kind of medicine was best adapted to his ailments. + +The Doctor came down to see him the very first thing every morning, and +now he came quietly in, just as Nance had been administering her latest +dose. + +"Ah--ha, nurse! What are you doing to my patient!" + +"I'm only keeping him quiet, sir, as you told me to," said Nance, with a +rosy face. + +"It's the doctor you ought to pay, not the patient. Well, my boy, how +are we this morning? Head aching yet?" + +"It does feel a bit queer. Tell me all about last night, Doctor!" + +"Ah--ha, yes--last night! Well, you caught the murderer with a +vengeance, my boy--or he caught you,"--and then, seeing the puzzlement +in the tired eyes, he briefly explained the whole matter. + +"And do you mean it was that awful beast killed the others?" + +"Without a doubt--and would have killed you in exactly the same way, and +exactly the same place, but for my pads and the Sénéchal's bullets. +Queer thing--they found the brute lying all in a heap in Coupée Bay on +the very spot where Tom Hamon and Peter Mauger were found." + +"Ay-y-y-y-y!" breathed Gard, with a long sigh of relief and a shiver. "I +shall never forget him." + +"Oh yes, you will--in time. Think of little Nance here. She's a sight +better worth thinking of. And now, Miss Nancy, how much good news can +you stand all at once, if you try your very hardest?" he asked, with a +sparkle in his eyes that somehow seemed to set hers sparkling too. + +"Oh madé, Doctor!" and the little hands clasped up on her breast, as was +her way when greatly moved. "Not----?" + +She dared not hope for so much--the wish of her heart--just an inch or +so behind the desire for Gard's recovery. + +"The cutter this morning brought over one we had feared was lost----" + +"Not--not Bernel?" + +"Yes, my child, Bernel, by God's good mercy! He was picked up by a +Granville trawler, and lay there ill for some days, and could only get +back by Jersey and Guernsey. He was to come along with the Sénéchal in a +quarter of an hour--" + +But Nance had fallen on her knees and buried her face in the +bed-clothes, lest any but God should see it in the rapture of its +breaking. + +"Dieu merci! Dieu merci! Dieu merci!" she was crying, though none of +them heard it. + +And "Thank God!" said Stephen Gard with fervour--for Bernel, and for +himself, but most of all for Nance. + + + NOTE.--The names used in this book are necessarily the names + still current in Sark. None of the characters presented, + however, are in any way connected with any persons now living + in the Island. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MAID OF THE SILVER SEA*** + + +******* This file should be named 14832-8.txt or 14832-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/8/3/14832 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/old/14832-8.zip b/old/14832-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..29b26ac --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14832-8.zip diff --git a/old/14832.txt b/old/14832.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f926c5e --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14832.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10340 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Maid of the Silver Sea, by John Oxenham, +Illustrated by Harold Copping + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: A Maid of the Silver Sea + +Author: John Oxenham + +Release Date: January 29, 2005 [eBook #14832] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MAID OF THE SILVER SEA*** + + +E-text prepared by Steven Gibbs and the Project Gutenberg Online +Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) + + + +A MAID OF THE SILVER SEA + +by + +JOHN OXENHAM + +With Frontispiece in Colour by Harold Copping + +Hodder and Stoughton Warwick Square, London, E.C. + + + + + + + + TO + MY FRIEND + EDWARD BAKER + OF LA CHAUMIERE, SARK + + ON WHOSE MOST HOSPITABLE AND SUPREMELY + COMFORTABLE VERANDAH, LOOKING OUT + TO THE FAIR COAST OF FRANCE, THIS + STORY WAS PARTLY WRITTEN, I + INSCRIBE THE SAME IN REMEMBRANCE + OF MANY + DELIGHTFUL DAYS + TOGETHER + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER I + HOW TWO LAY IN A CLEFT + + CHAPTER II + HOW NANCE CAME TO BE HERSELF + + CHAPTER III + HOW THE NEW MINE CAPTAIN CAME + + CHAPTER IV + HOW GARD MADE NEW ACQUAINTANCES + + CHAPTER V + HOW NANCE SHONE THROUGH HER MODEST VEILING + + CHAPTER VI + HOW GRANNIE SCHEMED SCHEMES + + CHAPTER VII + HOW GARD FOUGHT GALES AND TOM + + CHAPTER VIII + HOW TOM WANTED TO BUT DIDN'T DARE + + CHAPTER IX + HOW OLD TOM FOUND THE SILVER HEART + + CHAPTER X + HOW YOUNG TOM FOUND HIS MATCH + + CHAPTER XI + HOW GARD DREW NEARER TO HIS HEART'S DESIRE + + CHAPTER XII + HOW NANCE CAME UP THE MAIN SHAFT WITHOUT GOING DOWN IT + + CHAPTER XIII + HOW GARD REFUSED AN OFFER AND MADE AN ENEMY + + CHAPTER XIV + HOW THEY WENT THROUGH THE DARKNESS OF THE NARROW WAY + + CHAPTER XV + HOW TWO FELL OUT + + CHAPTER XVI + HOW ONE FELL OVER + + CHAPTER XVII + HOW TOM WENT TO SCHOOL FOR THE LAST TIME + + CHAPTER XVIII + HOW PETER'S DIPLOMACY CAME TO NOUGHT + + CHAPTER XIX + HOW THE SARK MEN FELT ABOUT IT + + CHAPTER XX + HOW SARK CRAVED BLOOD FOR BLOOD + + CHAPTER XXI + HOW LOVE TOOK LOVE TO SANCTUARY + + CHAPTER XXII + HOW THE STARS SANG OF HOPE + + CHAPTER XXIII + HOW NANCE SENT FOOD AND HOPE TO HIM + + CHAPTER XXIV + HOW HE SAW STRANGE SIGHTS + + CHAPTER XXV + HOW HE LIVED THROUGH THE GREAT STORM + + CHAPTER XXVI + HOW HE HELD THE ROCK + + CHAPTER XXVII + HOW ONE CAME TO HIM LIKE AN ANGEL FROM HEAVEN + + CHAPTER XXVIII + HOW THE OTHERS CAME TO MAKE AN END + + CHAPTER XXIX + HOW HE CAME INTO AN UNKNOWN PLACE + + CHAPTER XXX + HOW NANCE WATCHED FROM AFAR + + CHAPTER XXXI + HOW TWO WENT IN AND THREE CAME OUT + + CHAPTER XXXII + HOW JULIE MEDITATED EVIL + + CHAPTER XXXIII + HOW HOPE CAME ONCE AGAIN + + CHAPTER XXXIV + HOW JULIE'S SCHEMES FELL FLAT + + CHAPTER XXXV + HOW AN ANGEL CAME BRINGING THE TRUTH + + CHAPTER XXXVI + HOW HE CAME HOME FROM L'ETAT + + CHAPTER XXXVII + HOW THEY LAID TRAPS FOR THE DEVIL + + CHAPTER XXXVIII + HOW THEY LAID THE DEVIL BY THE HEELS + + CHAPTER XXXIX + HOW THEY THANKED GOD FOR HIS MERCIES + + + + +CHAPTER I + +HOW TWO LAY IN A CLEFT + + +A girl and a boy lay in a cubby-hole in the north side of the cliff +overlooking Port Gorey, and watched the goings-on down below. + +The sun was tending towards Guernsey and the gulf was filled witn golden +light. A small brig, unkempt and dirty, was nosing towards the rough +wooden landing-stage clamped to the opposite rocks, as though doubtful +of the advisability of attempting its closer acquaintance. + +"Mon Gyu, Bern, how I wish they were all at the bottom of the sea!" said +the girl vehemently. + +"Whe--e--e--w!" whistled the boy, and then with a twinkle in his +eye,--"Who's got a new parasol now?" + +"Everybody!--but it's not that. It's the bustle--and the dirt--and the +noise--and oh--everything! You can't remember what it was like before +these wretched mines came--no dust, no noise, no bustle, no dirty men, +no silly women, no nothing as it is now. Just Sark as it used to be. And +now--! Mon Gyu, yes I wish the sea would break in through their nasty +tunnels and wash them all away--pumps and engines and houses--everything!" + +And up on the hillside at the head of the gulf the great pumping-engine +clacked monotonously "Never! Never! Never!" + +"You've got it bad to-day, Nan," said the boy. + +"I've always got it bad. It makes me sick. It has changed everything and +everybody--everybody except mother and you," she added quickly. +"Get--get--get! Why we hardly used to know what money was, and now no +one thinks of anything but getting all they can. It is sickening." + +"S--s--s--s--t!" signalled the boy suddenly, at the sound of steps and +voices on the cliff outside and close at hand. + +"Tom," muttered the boy. + +"And Peter Mauger," murmured the girl, and they both shrank lower into +their hiding-place. + +It was a tiny natural chamber in the sharp slope of the hill. Ages ago +the massive granite boulders of the headland, loosened and undercut by +the ceaseless assaults of wind and weather and the deadly quiet fingers +of the frost, had come rolling down the slope till they settled afresh +on new foundations, forming holes and crannies and little angular +chambers where the splintered shoulders met. In time, the soil silted +down and covered their asperities, and--like a good colonist--carrying +in itself the means of increase, it presently brought forth and +blossomed, and the erstwhile shattered rocks were royally robed in +russet and purple, and green and gold. + +Among these fantastic little chambers Nance had played as a child, and +had found refuge in them from the persecutions of her big half-brother, +Tom Hamon. Tom was six when she was born--fourteen accordingly when she +was at the teasable age of eight, and unusually tempting as a victim by +reason of her passionate resentment of his unwelcome attentions. + +She hated Tom, and Tom had always resented her and her mother's +intrusion into the family, and Bernel's, when he came, four years after +Nance. + +What his father wanted to marry again for, Tom never could make out. His +lack of training and limited powers of expression did not indeed permit +him any distinct reasoning on the matter, but the feeling was there--a +dull resentment which found its only vent and satisfaction in stolid +rudeness to his stepmother and the persecution of Nance and Bernel +whenever occasion offered. + +The household was not therefore on too happy a footing. + +It consisted, at the time when our story opens, of--Old Mrs. +Hamon--Grannie--half of whose life had been lived in the nineteenth +century and half in the eighteenth. She had seen all the wild doings of +the privateering and free-trading days, and recalled as a comparatively +recent event the raiding of the Island by the men of Herm, though that +happened forty years before. + +She was for the most part a very reserved and silent old lady, but her +tongue could bite like a whip when the need arose. + +She occupied her own dower-rooms in the house, and rarely went outside +them. All day long she sat in her great arm-chair by the window in her +sitting-room, with the door wide open, so that she could see all that +went on in the house and outside it; and in the sombre depths of her +great black silk sun-bonnet--long since turned by age and weather to +dusky green--her watchful eyes had in them something of the inscrutable +and menacing. + +Her wants were very few, and as her income from her one-third of the +farm had far exceeded her expenses for more than twenty years, she was +reputed as rich in material matters as she undoubtedly was in +common-sense and worldly wisdom. Even young Tom was sulkily silent +before her on the rare occasions when they came into contact. + +Next in the family came the nominal head of it, "Old Tom" Hamon, to +distinguish him from young Tom, his son; a rough, not ill-natured man, +until the money-getting fever seized him, since which time his +home-folks had found in him changes that did not make for their comfort. + +The discovery of silver in Sark, the opening of the mines, and the +coming of the English miners--with all the very problematical benefits +of a vastly increased currency of money, and the sudden introduction of +new ideas and standards of life and living into a community which had +hitherto been contented with the order of things known to its +forefathers--these things had told upon many, but on none more than old +Tom Hamon. + +Suspicious at first of the meaning and doings of these strangers, he +very soon found them advantageous. He got excellent prices for his farm +produce, and when his horses and carts were not otherwise engaged he +could always turn them to account hauling for the mines. + +As the silver-fever grew in him he became closer in his dealings both +abroad and at home. With every pound he could scrimp and save he bought +shares in the mines and believed in them absolutely. And he went on +scrimping and saving and buying shares so as to have as large a stake in +the silver future as possible. + +He got no return as yet from his investment, indeed. But that would +come all right in time, and the more shares he could get hold of the +larger the ultimate return would be. And so he stinted himself and his +family, and mortgaged his future, in hopes of wealth which he would not +have known how to enjoy if he had succeeded in getting it. + +So possessed was he with the desire for gain that when young Tom came +home from sea he left the farming to him, and took to the mining +himself, and worked harder than he had ever worked in his life before. + +He was a sturdy, middle-sized man, with a grizzled bullet head and +rounded beard, of a dogged and pertinacious disposition, but capable, +when stirred out of his usual phlegm, of fiery outbursts which overbore +all argument and opposition. His wife died when his boy Tom was three, +and after two years of lonely discomfort he married Nancy Poidestre of +Petit Dixcart, whose people looked upon it as something of a +_mesalliance_ that she should marry out of her own country into Little +Sark. + +Nancy was eminently good-looking and a notable housewife, and she went +into Tom Hamon's house of La Closerie with every hope and intention of +making him happy. + +But, from the very first, little Tom set his face against her. + +It would be hard to say why. Nancy racked her brain for reasons, and +could find none, and was miserable over it. + +His father thrashed him for his rudeness and insolence, which only made +matters worse. + +His own mother had given way to him in everything, and spoiled him +completely. After her death his father out of pity for his forlorn +estate, had equally given way to him, and only realised, too late, when +he tried to bring him to with a round turn, how thoroughly out of hand +he had got. + +When little Tom found, as one consequence of the new mother's arrival, +that his father thrashed instead of humouring him, he put it all down to +the new-comer's account, and set himself to her discomfiture in every +way his barbarous little wits could devise. + +He never forgot one awful week he passed in his grandmother's care--a +week that terminated in the arrival of still another new-comer, who, in +course of time, developed into little Nance. It is not impossible that +the remembrance of that black week tended to colour his after-treatment +of his little half-sister. In spite of her winsomeness he hated her +always, and did his very best to make life a burden to her. + +When, on that memorable occasion, he was hastily flung by his father +into his grandmother's room, as the result of some wickedness which had +sorely upset his stepmother, and the door was, most unusually, closed +behind him, his first natural impulse was to escape as quickly as +possible. + +But he became aware of something unusual and discomforting in the +atmosphere, and when his grandmother said sternly, "Sit down!" and he +turned on her to offer his own opinion on the matter, he found the keen +dark eyes gazing out at him from under the shadowy penthouse of the +great black sun-bonnet, with so intent and compelling a stare that his +mouth closed without saying a word. He climbed up on to a chair and +twisted his feet round the legs by way of anchorage. + +Then he sat up and stared back at Grannie, and as an exhibition of +nonchalance and high spirit, put out his tongue at her. + +Grannie only looked at him. + +And, bit by bit, the tongue withdrew, and only the gaping mouth was +left, and above it a pair of frightened green eyes, transmitting to the +perverse little soul within new impressions and vague terrors. + +Before long his left arm went up over his face to shut out the sight of +Grannie's dreadful staring eyes, and when, after a sufficient interval, +he ventured a peep at her and found her eyes still fixed on him, he +howled, "Take it off! Take it off!" and slipped his anchors and slid to +the floor, hunching his back at this tormentor who could beat him on his +own ground. + +For that week he gave no trouble to any one. But after it he never went +near Grannie's room, and for years he never spoke to her. When he passed +her open door, or in front of her window, he hunched his shoulder +protectively and averted his eyes. + +Resenting control in any shape or form, Tom naturally objected to +school. + +His stepmother would have had him go--for his own sake as well as hers. +But his father took a not unusual Sark view of the matter. + +"What's the odds?" said he. "He'll have the farm. Book-learning will be +no use to him," and in spite of Nancy's protests--which Tom regarded as +simply the natural outcrop of her ill-will towards him--the boy grew up +untaught and uncontrolled, and knowing none but the worst of all +masters--himself. + +On occasion, when the tale of provocation reached its limit, his father +thrashed him, until there came a day when Tom upset the usual course of +proceedings by snatching the stick out of his father's hands, and would +have belaboured him in turn if he had not been promptly knocked down. + +After that his father judged it best for all concerned that he should +flight his troublesome wings outside for a while. So he sent him off in +a trading-ship, in the somewhat forlorn hope that a knowledge of the +world would knock some of the devil out of him--a hope which, like many +another, fell short of accomplishment. + +The world knocks a good deal out of a man, but it also knocks a good +deal in. Tom came back from his voyaging knowing a good many things that +he had not known when he started--a little English among others--and +most of the others things which had been more profitably left unlearnt. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +HOW NANCE CAME TO BE HERSELF + + +And little Nance? + +The most persistent memories of Nance's childhood were her fear and +hatred of Tom, and her passionate love for her mother,--and Bernel when +he came. + +"My own," she called these two, and regarded even her father as somewhat +outside that special pale; esteemed Grannie as an Olympian, benevolently +inclined, but dwelling on a remote and loftier plane; and feared and +detested Tom as an open enemy. + +And she had reasons. + +She was a high-strung child, too strong and healthy to be actually +nervous, but with every faculty always at its fullest--not only in +active working order but always actively at work--an admirable subject +therefore for the malevolence of an enemy whose constant proximity +offered him endless opportunity. + +Much of his boyish persecution never reached the ears of the higher +powers. Nance very soon came to accept Tom's rough treatment as natural +from a big fellow of fourteen to a small girl of eight, and she bore it +stoically and hated him the harder. + +Her mother taught her carefully to say her prayers, which included +petitions for the welfare of Grannie and father and brother Tom, and for +a time, with the perfunctoriness of childhood, which attaches more +weight to the act than to the meaning of it, she allowed that to pass +with a stickle and a slur. But very soon brother Tom was ruthlessly +dropped out of the ritual, and neither threats nor persuasion could +induce her to re-establish him. + +Later on, and in private, she added to her acknowledged petitions an +appendix, unmistakably brief and to the point--"And, O God, please kill +brother Tom!"--and lived in hope. + +She was an unusually pretty child, though her prettiness developed +afterwards--as childish prettiness does not always--into something finer +and more lasting. + +She had, as a child, large dark blue eyes, which wore as a rule a look +of watchful anxiety--put there by brother Tom. To the end of her life +she carried the mark of a cut over her right eyebrow, which came within +an ace of losing her the sight of that eye. It was brother Tom did that. + +She had an abundance of flowing brown hair, by which Tom delighted to +lift her clear off the ground, under threat of additional boxed ears if +she opened her mouth. The wide, firm little mouth always remained +closed, but the blue eyes burned fiercely, and the outraged little +heart, thumping furiously at its impotence, did its best to salve its +wounds with ceaseless repetition of its own private addition to the +prescribed form of morning and evening prayer. + +Once, even Tom's dull wit caught something of meaning in the blaze of +the blue eyes. + +"What are you saying, you little devil?" he growled, and released her so +suddenly that she fell on her knees in the mud. + +And she put her hands together, as she was in the habit of doing, and +prayed, "O God, please kill brother Tom!" + +"Little devil!" said brother Tom, with a startled red face, and made a +dash at her; but she had foreseen that and was gone like a flash. + +One might have expected her childish comeliness to exercise something of +a mollifying effect on his brutality. On the contrary, it seemed but to +increase it. She was so sweet; he was so coarse. She was so small and +fragile; he was so big and strong. Her prettiness might work on others. +He would let her see and feel that he was not the kind to be fooled by +such things. + +He had the elemental heartlessness of the savage, which recognises no +sufferings but its own, and refuses to be affected even by them. + +When Nance's kitten, presented to her by their neighbour, Mrs. Helier +Baker, solved much speculation as to its sex by becoming a mother, Tom +gladly undertook the task of drowning the superfluous offspring. He got +so much amusement out of it that, for weeks, Nance's horrified inner +vision saw little blind heads, half-drowned and mewing piteously, +striving with feeble pink claws to climb out of the death-tub and being +ruthlessly set swimming again till they sank. + +She hurled herself at Tom as he gloated over his enjoyment, and would +have asked nothing better than to treat him as he was treating the +kittens--righteous retribution in her case, not enjoyment!--but he was +too strong for her. He simply kicked out behind, and before she could +get up had thrust one of his half-drowned victims into the neck of her +frock, and the clammy-dead feel of it and its pitiful screaming set her +shuddering for months whenever she thought of it. + +But now and again her tormentor overpassed the bounds and got his +reward--to Nance's immediate satisfaction but subsequent increased +tribulation. For whenever he got a thrashing on her account he never +failed to pay her out in the smaller change of persecution which never +came to light. + +On a pitch-dark, starless night, the high-hedged--and in places +deep-sunk--lanes of Little Sark are as black as the inside of an ebony +ruler. + +When the moon bathes sea and land in a flood of shimmering silver, or on +a clear night of stars--and the stars in Sark, you must know, shine +infinitely larger and closer and brighter than in most other places--the +darkness below is lifted somewhat by reason of the majestic width and +height of the glittering dome above. But when moon and stars alike are +wanting, then the darkness of a Sark lane is a thing to be felt, and--if +you should happen to be a little girl of eight, with a large imagination +and sharp ears that have picked up fearsome stories of witches and +ghosts and evil spirits--to be mortally feared. + +Tom had a wholesome dread of such things himself. But the fear of +fourteen, in a great strong body and no heavenly spark of imagination, +is not to be compared with the fear of eight and a mind that could +quiver like a harp even at its own imaginings. And, to compass his ends, +he would blunt his already dull feelings and turn the darkness to his +account. + +When he knew Nance was out on such a night--on some errand, or in at a +neighbour's--to crouch in the hedge and leap silently out upon her was +huge delight; and it was well worth braving the grim possibilities of +the hedges in order to extort from her the anger in the bleat of terror +which, as a rule, was all that her paralysed heart permitted, as she +turned and fled. + +Almost more amusing--as considerably extending the enjoyment--was it to +follow her quietly on such occasions, yet not so quietly but that she +was perfectly aware of footsteps behind, which stopped when she stopped +and went on again when she went on, and so kept her nerves on the quiver +the whole time. + +Creeping fearfully along in the blackness, with eyes and ears on the +strain, and both little shoulders humped against the expected apparition +of Tom--or worse, she would become aware of the footsteps behind her. + +Then she would stop suddenly to make sure, and stand listening +painfully, and hear nothing but the low hoarse growl of the sea that +rarely ceases, day or night, among the rocks of Little Sark. + +Then she would take a tentative step or two and stop again, and then +dash on. And always there behind her were the footsteps that followed in +the dark. + +Then she would fumble with her foot for a stone and stoop hastily--for +you are at a disadvantage with ghosts and with Toms when you stoop--and +pick it up and hurl it promiscuously in the direction of the footsteps, +and quaver, in a voice that belied its message, "Go away, Tom Hamon! I +can see you,"--which was a little white fib born of the black urgency of +the situation;--"and I'm not the least bit afraid,"--which was most +decidedly another. + +And so the journey would progress fitfully and in spasms, and leave +nightmare recollections for the disturbance of one's sleep. + +But there were variations in the procedure at times. + +As when, on one occasion, Nance's undiscriminating projectile elicited +from the darkness a plaintive "Moo!" which came, she knew, from her +favourite calf Jeanetton, who had broken her tether in the field and +sought companionship in the road, and had followed her doubtfully, +stopping whenever she stopped, and so received the punishment intended +for another. + +Nance kissed the bruise on Jeanetton's ample forehead next day very many +times, and explained the whole matter to her at considerable length, and +Jeanetton accepted it all very placidly and bore no ill-will. + +Another time, when Nance had taken a very specially compounded cake over +to her old friend, Mrs. Baker, as a present from her mother, and had +been kept much longer than she wished--for the old lady's enjoyment of +her pretty ways and entertaining prattle--she set out for home in fear +and trembling. + +It was one of the pitch-black nights, and she went along on tiptoes, +hugging the empty plate to her breast, and glancing fearfully over first +one shoulder, then the other, then over both and back and front all at +once. + +She was almost home, and very grateful for it, when the dreaded black +figure leaped silently out at her from its crouching place, and she tore +down the lane to the house, Tom's hoarse guffaws chasing her mockingly. + +The open door cleft a solid yellow wedge in the darkness. She was almost +into it, when her foot caught, and she flung head foremost into the +light with a scream, and lay there with the blood pouring down her face +from the broken plate. + +A finger's-breadth lower and she would have gone through life one-eyed, +which would have been a grievous loss to humanity at large, for sweeter +windows to a large sweet soul never shone than those out of which +little Nance Hamon's looked. + +Most houses may be judged by their windows, but these material windows +are not always true gauge of what is within. They may be decked to +deceive, but the clear windows of the soul admit of no disguise. That +little life tenant is always looking out and showing himself in his true +colours--whether he knows it or not. + +Nance's terrified scream took old Tom out at a bound. He had heard the +quick rush of her feet and Tom's mocking laughter in the distance. He +carried Nance in to her mother, snatched up a stick, and went after the +culprit who had promptly disappeared. + +It was two days before Tom sneaked in again and took his thrashing +dourly. Little Nance had shut her lips tight when her father questioned +her, and refused to say a word. But he was satisfied as to where the +blame lay and administered justice with a heavy hand. + +Bernel--as soon as he grew to persecutable age--provided Tom with +another victim. But time was on the victims' side, and when Nance got to +be twelve--Bernel being then eight and Tom eighteen--their combined +energies and furies of revolt against his oppressions put matters more +on a level. + +Many a pitched battle they had, and sometimes almost won. But, win or +lose, the fact that they had no longer to suffer without lifting a hand +was great gain to them, and the very fact that they had to go about +together for mutual protection knitted still stronger the ties that +bound them one to the other. + +But, though little Nance's earlier years suffered much from the black +shadow of brother Tom, they were very far from being years of darkness. + +She was of an unusually bright and enquiring disposition, always +wanting to see and know and understand, interested in everything about +her, and never satisfied till she had got to the bottom of things, or at +all events as far down as it was possible for a small girl to get. + +Her lively chatter and ceaseless questions left her mother and Grannie +small chance of stagnation. But, if she asked many questions--and some +of them posers--it was not simply for the sake of asking, but because +she truly wanted to know; and even Grannie, who was not naturally +talkative, never resented her pertinent enquiries, but gave freely of +her accumulated wisdom and enjoyed herself in the giving. + +When she got beyond their depth at times, or outside their limits, she +would boldly carry her queries--and strange ones they were at times--to +old Mr. Cachemaille, the Vicar up in Sark, making nothing of the journey +and the Coupee in order to solve some, to her, important problem. And he +not only never refused her but delighted to open to her the stores of a +well-stocked mind and of the kindest and gentlest of hearts. + +Often and often the people of Vauroque and Plaisance would see them +pass, hand in hand and full of talk, when the Vicar had wished to see +with his own eyes one or other of Nance's wonderful discoveries, in the +shape of cave or rock-pool, or deposit of sparkling crystal +fingers--amethyst and topaz--or what not. + +For she was ever lighting on odd and beautiful bits of Nature's +craftsmanship. Books were hardly to be had in those days, and in place +of them she climbed fearlessly about the rough cliff-sides and tumbled +headlands, and looked close at Nature with eyes that missed nothing and +craved everything. + +To the neighbours the headlands were places where rabbits were to be +shot for dinner, the lower rocks places where ormers and limpets and +vraie might be found. But to little Nance the rabbits were playfellows +whose sudden deaths she lamented and resented; the cliff-sides were +glorious gardens thick with sweet-scented yellow gorse and honeysuckle +and wild roses, carpeted with primroses and bluebells; and, in their +season, rich and juicy with blackberries beyond the possibilities of +picking. + +She was on closest visiting terms with innumerable broods of +newly-hatched birdlings--knew them, indeed, while they were still but +eggs--delighted in them when they were as yet but skin and +mouth--rejoiced in their featherings and flyings. Even baby cuckoos were +a joy to her, though, on their foster-mothers' accounts she resented the +thriftlessness of their parents, and grew tired each year of their +monotonous call which ceased not day or night. But of the larks never, +for their songs seemed to her of heaven, while the cuckoos were of +earth. The gulls, too, were somewhat difficult from the friendly point +of view, but she lay for hours overlooking their domestic arrangements +and envying the wonders of their matchless flight. + +And down below the cliffs what marvels she discovered!--marvels which in +many cases the Vicar was fain to content himself with at second hand, +since closer acquaintance seemed to him to involve undoubted risk to +limb if not to life. Little Nance, indeed, hopped down the seamed cliffs +like a rock pipit, with never a thought of the dangers of the passage, +and he would stand and watch her with his heart in his mouth, and only +shake his grey head at her encouraging assertions that it was truly +truly as easy as easy. For he felt certain that even if he got down he +would never get up again. And so, when the triumphant shout from below +told him she was safely landed, he would wave a grateful hand and get +back from the edge and seat himself securely on a rock, till the rosy +face came laughing up between him and the shimmering sea, with trophy of +weed or shell or crystal quartz, and he would tell her all he knew about +them, and she would try to tell him of all he had missed by not coming +down. + +There were wonderful great basins down there, all lined with pink and +green corallines, and full of the loveliest weeds and anemones and other +sea-flowers, and the rivulets that flowed from them to the sea were +lined pink and green, too. And this that she had brought him was the +flaming sea-weed, though truly it did not look it now, but in the water +it was, she assured him, of the loveliest, and there were great bunches +there so that the dark holes under the rocks were all alight with it. + +She coaxed him doubtfully to the descent of the rounded headland facing +L'Etat, picking out an easy circuitous way for him, and so got him +safely down to her own special pool, hollowed out of the solid granite +by centuries of patient grinding on the part of the great boulders +within. + +It was there, peering down at the fishes below, that she expressed a +wish to imitate them; and he agreeing, she ran up to the farm for a bit +of rope and was back before he had half comprehended all the beauties of +the pool. And he had no sooner explained the necessary movements to her +and she had tried them, than she cast off the rope, shouting, "I can +swim! I can swim!" and to his amazement swam across the pool and back--a +good fifty feet each way--chirping with delight in this new-found +faculty and the tonic kiss of the finest water in the world. But after +all it was not so very amazing, for she was absolutely without fear, and +in that water it is difficult to sink. + +They were often down there together after that, for close alongside were +wonderful channels and basins whorled out of the rock in the most +fantastic ways, and to sit and watch the tide rush up them was a +never-failing entertainment. + +And not far away was a blow-hole of the most extraordinary which shot +its spray a hundred feet into the air, and if you didn't mind getting +wet you could sit quite alongside it, so close that you could put your +hand into it as it came rocketing out of the hole, and then, if the sun +was right, you sat in the midst of rainbows--a thing Nance had always +longed to do since she clapped her baby hands at her first one. But the +Vicar never did that. + +And once, in quest of the how and the why, Nance swam into the +blow-hole's cave at a very low tide, and its size and the dome of its +roof, compared with the narrowness of its entrance, amazed her, but she +did not stay long for it gave her the creeps. + +These were some of the ways by which little Nance grew to a larger +estate than most of her fellows, and all these things helped to make her +what she came to be. + +When she grew old enough to assist in the farm, new realms of delight +opened to her. Chickens, calves, lambs, piglets--she foster-mothered +them all and knew no weariness in all such duties which were rather +pleasures. + +It was a wounded rabbit, limping into cover under a tangle of gorse and +blackberry bashes, that discovered to her the entrance to the series of +little chambers and passages that led right through the headland to the +side looking into Port Gorey. Which most satisfactory hiding-place she +and Bernel turned to good account on many an occasion when brother Tom's +oppression passed endurance. + +It had taken time, and much screwing up of childish courage, to explore +the whole of that extraordinary little burrow, and it was not the work +of a day. + +When Nance crept along the little run made by many generations of +rabbits, she found that it led finally into a dark crack in the rock, +and, squeezing through that, she was in a small dark chamber which smelt +strongly of her friends. + +As soon as her eyes recovered from the sudden change from blazing +sunlight to almost pitch darkness, she perceived a small black opening +at the far end, and looking through it she saw a lightening of the +darkness still farther in which tempted her on. + +It was a tough scramble even for her, and the closeness of the rocks and +the loneliness weighed upon her somewhat. But there was that glimmer of +light ahead and she must know what it was, and so she climbed and +wriggled over and under the huge splintered rocks till she came to the +light, like a tiny slit of a window far above her head, and still there +were passages leading on. + +Next day, with Bernel and a tiny crasset lamp for company, she explored +the burrow to its utmost limits and adopted it at once as their refuge +and stronghold. And thereafter they spent much time there, especially in +the end chamber where a tiny slit gave on to Port Gorey, and they could +lie and watch all that went on down below. + +There they solemnly concocted plans for brother Tom's discomfiture, and +thither they retreated after defeat or victory, while he hunted high +and low for them and never could make out where they had got to. + +Then Tom went off to sea, and life, for those at home, became a joy +without a flaw--except the thought that he would sometime come +back--unless he got drowned. + +When he returned he was past the boyish bullying and teasing stage, and +his stunts and twists developed themselves along other lines. Moreover, +sailor-fashion, he wore a knife in a sheath at the back of his belt. + +He found Nance a tall slim girl of sixteen, her childish prettiness just +beginning to fashion itself into the strength and comeliness of form and +feature which distinguished her later on. + +He swore, with strange oaths, that she was the prettiest bit of goods +he'd set eyes on since he left home, and he'd seen a many. And he +wondered to himself if this could really be the Nance he used to hate +and persecute. + +But Nance detested him and all his ways as of old. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +HOW THE NEW MINE CAPTAIN CAME + + +Tom Hamon and Peter Mauger seated themselves on a rock within a few feet +of the narrow slit out of which Nance and Bernel had been looking. + +"Ouaie," said Tom, taking up his parable--"wanted me to join him in +getting a loan on farm, he did." + +"Aw, now!" + +"Ouaie--a loan on farm, and me to join him, 'cause he couldn' do it +without. 'And why?' I asked him." + +"Ah!" + +"An' he told me he was goin' to make a fortune out them silver mines." + +"Aw!" + +"Ouaie! He'd put in every pound he had and every shilling he earned. An' +the more he could put in the more he would get out." + +"Aw!" + +"'But,' I said, 'suppos'n it all goes into them big holes and never +comes out--'" + +"Aw!" + +"But he's just crazy 'bout them mines. Says there's silver an' lead, and +guyabble-knows-what-all in 'em, and when they get it out he'll be a rich +man." + +"Aw!" said Peter, nodding his head portentously, as one who had gauged +the futility of earthly riches. + +He was a young man of large possessions but very few words. When he did +allow his thoughts out they came slowly and in jerks, with lapses at +times which the hearer had to fill in as best he could. + +His father had been an enterprising free-trader, and had made money +before the family farm came to him on the death of his father. He had +married another farm and the heiress attached to it, and Peter was the +result. An only son, both parents dead, two farms and a good round sum +in the Guernsey Bank, such were Peter's circumstances. + +And himself--good-tempered; lazy, since he had no need to work; not +naturally gifted mentally, and the little he had, barely stirred by the +short course of schooling which had been deemed sufficient for so +worldly-well-endowed a boy; tall, loose-limbed, easy going and easily +led, Peter was the object of much speculation among marriageably +inclined maiden hearts, and had set his own where it was not wanted. + +"Ouaie," continued Tom, "an' if I'd join him in the loan the money'd all +come to me when he'd done with it." + +"Aw!... Money isn't everything.... Can't get all you want sometimes +when you've got all money you want." + +"G'zammin, Peter! You're as crazy 'bout that lass as th' old un is 'bout +his mines. Why don't ye ask her and ha' done with it?" + +"Aw--yes. Well.... You see.... I'm makin' up to her gradual like, and in +time----" + +And Bernel in the hole dug his elbow facetiously into Nance's side. + +"Mon Gyu! To think of a slip of a thing like our Nance making a great +big fellow like you as fool-soft as a bit of tallow!" and Tom stared at +him in amazement. "Why, I've licked her scores of times, and I used to +lift her up by the hair of her head." + +"I'd ha' knocked your head right off, Tom Hamon, if I'd been there. +Right off--yes, an' bumped it on the ground." + +"No, you wouldn't. 'Cause, in the first place, you couldn't, and in the +second place you wouldn't have looked at her then. She was no more to +look at than a bit of a rabbit, slipping about, scared-like, with her +big eyes all round her." + +"Great rough bull of a chap you was, Tom. Ought to had more lickings +when you was young." + +"Aw!" said Tom. + +"Join him?" asked Peter after a pause. + +"No, I won't, an' he's no right to ask it, an' he knows it. Them dirty +mines may pay an' they may not, but the farm's a safe thing an' I'll +stick to it." + +"Maybe new capt'n'll make things go better. That's him, I'm thinking, +just got ashore from brig without breaking his legs," nodding towards +the wooden landing-stage on the other side of the gulf. For landing at +Port Gorey was at times a matter requiring both nerve and muscle. + +A man, however, had just leaped ashore from the brig, and was now +standing looking somewhat anxiously after the landing of his baggage, +which consisted of a wooden chest and an old carpet-bag. + +When at last it stood safely on the platform, he cast a comprehensive +look at his surroundings and then turned to the group of men who had +come down to watch the boat come in, and four pairs of eyes on the +opposite side of the gulf watched him curiously, with little thought of +the tremendous part he was to play in all their lives. + +"Where's he stop?" asked Peter. + +"Our house." + +"Nay!" + +"Ouaie, I tell you. He's to stop at our house." + +"Why doesn't he go to Barracks?" + +"Old Captain's there and they might not agree. Oh ouaie, he'll have his +hands full, I'm thinking. And if he's not careful it's a crack on the +head and a drop over the Coupee he'll be getting." + +"Ah!" said Peter Mauger. + +"Come you along and see what kind of chap he is." + +"Aw well, I don't mind," and they strolled away to inspect the new Mine +Captain, who was to brace up the slackened ropes and bring the +enterprise to a successful issue. + +"Did you know he was going to stop with us, Nance?" asked Bernel, as +they groped their way out after due interval. + +"I heard father tell mother this morning." + +"Where's he to sleep?" + +"He's to have my room and I'm coming up into the loft. I shall take the +dark end, and I've put up a curtain across." + +"Shoo! We'll hear enough about the mines now," and they crept out behind +a gorse bush, and went off across the common towards the clump of +wind-whipped trees inside which the houses of Little Sark clustered for +companionship and shelter from the south-west gales. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +HOW GARD MADE NEW ACQUAINTANCES + + +Old Tom Hamon gave the new arrival warm greeting, and pointed out such +matters as might interest him as they climbed the steep road which led +up to the plateau and the houses. + +"Assay Office, Mr. Gard.... Captain's Office.... Forge.... Sark's Hope +shaft.... Le Pelley shaft--ninety fathoms below sea-level.... Pump +shaft ... and yon to east'ard is Prince's shaft.... We go round here +behind engine-house.... Yon's my house 'mong the trees." + +"That's a fine animal," said Gard, stopping suddenly to look at a great +white horse, which stood nibbling the gorse on the edge of the cliff +right in the eye of the sun, as it drooped towards Guernsey in a +holocaust of purple and amber and crimson clouds. The glow of the +threatening sky threw the great white figure into unusual prominence. + +"Yours, Mr. Hamon?" asked Gard--and the white horse flung up its head +and pealed out a trumpet-like neigh as though resenting the imputation. + +"No," said old Tom, staring at the white horse under his shading hand. +"Seigneur's. What's he doing down here? He's generally kept up at +Eperquerie, and that's the best place for him. He's an awkward beast at +times. I must send and tell Mr. Le Pelley where he is." + +The little cluster of white, thatched houses stood close together for +company, but discreetly turned their faces away from one another so that +no man overlooked or interfered with his neighbour. + +Gard found himself in a large room which occupied the whole middle +portion of the house and served as kitchen and common room for the +family. + +The floor was of trodden earth--hard and dry as cement, with a strip of +boarding round the sides and in front of the fire-place. Heavy oaken +beams ran across the roof from which depended a great hanging rack +littered with all kinds of household odds and ends. Along the beams of +the roof on hooks hung two long guns. One end of the room was occupied +by a huge fire-place, in one corner of which stood a new iron cooking +range, and alongside it a heap of white ashes and some smouldering +sticks of gorse under a big black iron pot filled the room with the +fragrance of wood smoke. In the opposite side of the fire-place was an +iron door closing the great baking oven, and above it ran a wide +mantel-shelf on which stood china dogs and glass rolling-pins and a +couple of lamps. + +A well-scrubbed white wooden table was set ready for supper. On a very +ancient-looking black oak stand--cupboard below and shelves above--was +ranged a vast assortment of crockery ware, and on the walls hung +potbellied metal jugs and cans which shone like silver. + +Two doors led to the other rooms of the house, one of them wide open. + +One corner of the room was occupied by a great wooden bin eight feet +square, filled with dried bracken. On the wide flat side, which looked +like a form, a woman and a girl were sitting when the two men entered. + +Hamon introduced them briefly as his wife and daughter, and, comely +women as Gard had been accustomed to in his own country of Cornwall, +there was something about these two, and especially about the younger of +the two, which made him of a sudden more than satisfied with the +somewhat doubtful venture to which he had bound himself--set a sudden +homely warmth in his heart, and made him feel the richer for being +there--made him, in fact, glad that he had come. + +And yet there was nothing in their reception of him that justified the +feeling. + +They nodded, indeed, in answer to his bow, but neither their faces nor +their manner showed any special joy at his coming. + +But that made no difference to him. They were there, and the mere sight +of the girl's fine mobile face and large dark blue eyes was a thing to +be grateful for. + +"You'll be wanting your supper," said Hamon. + +"At your own time, please," said the young man, looking towards Mrs. +Hamon. "I am really not very hungry"--though truth to tell he well might +have been, for the food on the brig had left much to be desired even to +one who had been a sailorman himself. + +"It is our usual time," said Mrs. Hamon, "and it is all ready. Will you +please to sit there." + +At the sound of the chairs a boy of fourteen came quietly in and slipped +into his seat. + +His sister had gone off with a portion on a plate through the open door. + +Gard was surprised to find himself hoping it was not her custom to take +her meals in private, and was relieved when she came back presently +without the plate and sat down by her brother. + +"Ah, you, Bernel, as soon as you've done your supper run over and tell +Mr. Le Pelley that his white stallion is on our common, and he'd better +send for him." + +"I'll ride him home," said the boy exultingly. + +"No you won't, Bern," said his sister quickly. "He's not safe. You know +what an awkward beast he is at times, and you could never get him across +the Coupee." + +"Pooh! I'd ride him across any day." + +"Promise me you won't," she said, with a hand on his arm. + +"Oh, well, if you say so," he grumbled. "I could manage him all right +though." + +Just then the doorway darkened and two young men entered, and threw +their caps on the green bed, and sat down with an awkward nod of +greeting to the company in general. + +"My son Tom," said Mr. Hamon, and Tom jerked another awkward nod towards +the stranger. "And Peter Mauger"--Peter repeated the performance, more +shyly and awkwardly even than Tom, from a variety of reasons. + +Tom was at home, and he had not even been invited--except by Tom. And +strangers always made him shy. And then there was Nance, with her great +eyes fixed on him, he knew, though he had not dared to look straight at +her. + +And then the stranger had an air about him--it was hard to say of what, +but it made Peter Mauger and Tom conscious of personal uncouthness, and +of a desire to get up and go out and wash their hands and have a shave. + +Gard, they knew, was the new captain of the mine, chosen by the +managers of the company for his experience with men, and he looked as if +he had been accustomed to order them about. + +His eyes were dark and keen, his face full of energy. Being clean-shaven +his age was doubtful. He might be twenty-five or forty. Nance, in her +first quick comprehensive glance, had wondered which. + +He stood close upon six feet and was broad-chested and +square-shouldered. A good figure of a man, clean and upstanding, and +with no nonsense about him. A capable-looking man in every respect, and +if his manner was quiet and retiring, there was that about him which +suggested the possibility of explosion if occasion arose. + +Not that the Hamon family as a whole, or any member of it, would have +put the matter quite in that way to itself, or herself. But that, +vaguely, was the impression produced upon them--an impression of +uprightness, intelligence, and reserved strength--and the more strongly, +perhaps, because of late these characteristics had been somewhat +overshadowed in the Island by the greed of gain and love of display +engendered by the opening of the mines. + +To old Tom Hamon his coming was wholly welcome. It foreshadowed a strong +and more energetic development of the mines and the speedier realization +of his most earnest desires. + +To Mrs. Hamon it meant some extra household work, which she would gladly +undertake since it was her husband's wish to have the stranger live with +them, though in his absorption by the mines she had no sympathy +whatever. + +Nance looked upon him merely as a part of the mines, and therefore to +be detested along with the noisy engine-house, the pumps, the damp and +dirty miners, and all the rest of it--the coming of which had so +completely spoiled her much-loved Sark. + +Tom disliked him because he made him feel small and boorish, and of a +commoner make. And feelings such as that inevitably try to disprove +themselves by noisy self-assertion. + +Accordingly Tom--after various jocular remarks in patois to Peter, who +would have laughed at them had he dared, but, knowing Nance's feelings +towards her brother was not sure how she would take it--loudly and +provocatively to Gard-- + +"Expect to make them mines pay, monsieur?" + +"Well, I hope so. But it's too soon to express an opinion till I've seen +them." + +"They put a lot of money in, and they get a lot of dirt out, but one +does not hear much of any silver." + +"Sometimes the deepest mines prove the best in the end." + +"And as long as there's anybody to pay for it I suppose you go on +digging." + +"If I thought the mines had petered out--" + +"Eh?" said Peter, and then coughed to hide his confusion when they all +looked at him. + +"I should of course advise the owners to stop work and sink no more +money." + +"It'll be a bad day for Sark when that happens," said old Tom. "But it's +not going to happen. The silver's there all right. It only wants getting +out." + +"If it's there we'll certainly get it out," said Gard, and although he +said it quietly enough, old Tom felt much better about things in +general. + +"You're the man for us," he said heartily. "We'll all be rich before we +die yet." + +"Depends when we die," growled Tom--in which observation--obvious as it +was--there was undoubtedly much truth. And then, his little suggestion +of provocation having broken like ripples on Gard's imperturbability, he +turned on Peter and tried to stir him up. + +"You don't get on any too fast with your making up to la garche, mon +gars," he said in the patois again. + +"Aw--Tom!" remonstrated Peter, very red in the face at this ruthless +laying bare of his approaches. + +"Get ahead, man! Put your arm round her neck and give her a kiss. That's +the way to fetch 'em." + +At which Nance jumped up with fiery face and sparks in her eyes and left +the room, and Gard, who understood no word of what had passed, yet +understood without possibility of doubt that Tom's speech had been +mortally offensive to his sister, and set him down in his own mind as of +low esteem and boorish disposition. + +As for Peter, to whom such advice was as useless as the act would have +been impossible at that stage of the proceedings, he was almost as much +upset as Nance herself. He got up with a shamefaced-- + +"Aw, Tom, boy, that was not good of you," and made for his hat, while +Tom sat with a broad grin at the result of his delicate diplomacy, and +Gard's great regret was that it was not possible for him to take the +hulking fellow by the neck and bundle him out of doors. + +Old Tom made some sharp remark to his son, who replied in kind; Mrs. +Hamon sat quietly aloof, as she always did when Tom and his father got +to words, and Bernel made play with his supper, as though such matters +were of too common occurrence to call for any special attention on his +part. + +Then Nance's face framed in a black sun-bonnet gleamed in at the outer +door. + +"Come along, Bern, and we'll go and tell the Seigneur where his white +horse is," and she disappeared, and Bernel, having polished off +everything within reach, got up and followed her. + +"Will you please to take a look at the mines to-night?" asked old Tom of +his guest, anxious to interest him in the work as speedily as possible. + +"We might take a bit of a walk, and you can tell me all you will about +things. But I don't take hold till the first of the month, and I don't +want to interfere until I have a right to. I suppose my baggage will be +coming up?" + +"Ach, yes! Tom, you take the cart and bring Mr. Gard's things up. They +are lying on the quay down there. Then we will go along, if you please!" + +Old Tom marched him through the wonderful amber twilight to the summit +of the bluff behind the engine-house--whence Gard could just make out +his box and carpet-bag still lying on the quay below. And all the way +the old man was volubly explaining the many changes necessary, in his +opinion, to bring the business to a paying basis. All which information +Gard accepted for testing purposes, but gathered from the total the fact +that through ill health on the part of the departing captain, the ropes +all round had got slack and that the tightening of them would be a +matter of no little delicacy and difficulty. + +Sark men, Mr. Hamon explained, were very free and independent, and hated +to be driven. They did piecework--so much per fathom, and were +constitutionally, he admitted, a bit more particular as to the so much +than as to the fathom. While the Cornish and Welsh men, receiving weekly +wages, had also grown slack and did far less work than they did at first +and than they might, could, and should do. + +"But," said old Tom frankly, scratching his head, "I don't know's I'd +like the job myself. Your men are quiet enough to look at, but they can +boil over when they're put to it. And our men--well, they're Sark, and +there's more'n a bit of the devil in them." + +"I must get things round bit by bit," said Gard quietly. "It never pays +to make a fuss and bustle men. Softly does it." + +"I'm thinking you can do it if any man can." + +"I'll have a good try any way." + +"Whereabouts does the Seigneur live?" he asked presently, and +inconsequently as it seemed, but following out a train of thought of his +own which needed no guessing at. + +"The Seigneur? Over there in Sark--across the Coupee." + +"What's the Coupee?" + +"The Coupee?--Mon Gyu!"--at such colossal ignorance--"Why, ...the +Coupee's the Coupee.... Come along, then. Maybe you can get a look at it +before it's too dark." + +They had got quite out of sound of the clanking engine, and were +travelling a well-made road, when their attention was drawn to a lively +struggle proceeding on the common between the road and the cliff. + +Tom, setting out after the troubled Peter, had caught sight of the +Seigneur's white horse and had forthwith decided to take him home. +Peter, agreeing that it was a piece of neighbourliness which the +Seigneur would appreciate, had turned back to give his assistance. + +By some cajolery they had managed to slip a halter with a special length +of rope over the wary white head, and there for the moment matters hung. +For the white horse, with his forelegs firmly planted, dragged at one +end of the rope and the two men at the other, and the issue remained in +doubt. + +The doubt, however, was suddenly solved by the white horse deciding on +more active measures. He swung his great head to one side, dragged the +men off their feet and started off at a gallop, they hanging on as best +they could. + +Old Tom and Gard set off after them to see the end of the matter, and +suddenly, as the roadway dipped between high banks and became a hollow +way, the white beast gave a shrill squeal, flung up his heels, jerked +himself free, and vanished like a streak of light into the darkness of +the lofty bank in front. + +"Mon Gyu!" cried old Tom, and sped up the bank to see the end. + +But the white horse knew his way and had no fear. They were just in time +to hear the rattle of his hoofs, as he disappeared with a final shrill +defiance into the outer darkness on the further side of a mighty gulf, +while a stone dislodged by his flying feet went clattering down into +invisible depths. + +"He's done it," panted old Tom, while Gard gazed with something like awe +at the narrow pathway, wavering across from side to side of the great +abyss, out of which rose the growl of the sea. + +"What's this?" he asked. + +"Coupee. It's a wonder he managed it. The path slipped in the winter +and it's narrow in places." + +"And do people cross it in the dark?" asked Gard, thinking of the girl +and boy who had gone to see the Seigneur. + +"Och yes! It is not bad when you're used to it. Come and see!" and he +led the way back across the common to the road. + +Gard walked cautiously behind him as he went across the crumbling white +pathway with the carelessness of custom, and, sailor as he had been, he +was not sorry when the other side was reached, and he could stand in the +security of the cutting and look back, and down into the gulf where the +white waves foamed and growled among the boulders three hundred feet +below. + +"I've seen a many as did not care to cross that, first time they saw +it," said old Tom with a chuckle. + +"Well, I'm not surprised at that. It's apt to make one's head spin." + +"I brought captain of brig up here and he wouldn't put a foot on it. Not +for five hundred pounds, he said." + +"It would have taken more than five hundred pounds to piece him together +if he'd tumbled down there." + +"That's so." + +A young moon, and a clear sky still rarely light and lofty in the amber +after-glow, gave them a safe passage back. + +When they reached the house among the trees, Gard bethought him of his +belongings. + +"And my things from the quay?" he suggested. + +"G'zammin! That boy has forgotten all about them, I'll be bound. I'll +take the cart down myself." + +"I'll go with you." + +When they got back with the box and bag, which no one had touched since +they were dropped on to the platform four hours before, they found that +Nance and Bernel had got home and gone off to bed, having taken +advantage of being across in Sark to call on some of their friends +there. + +Gard wondered how they would have fared if they had happened to be on +the Coupee when the white horse went thundering across. + +He dreamed that night that he was cautiously treading an endless white +path that swung up and down in the darkness like a piece of ribbon in a +breeze. And a great white horse came plunging at him out of the +darkness, and just as he gave himself up for lost, a sweet firm face in +a black sun-bonnet appeared suddenly in front of him, and the white +horse squealed and leaped over them and disappeared, while the stones he +had displaced went rattling down into the depths below. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +HOW NANCE SHONE THROUGH HER MODEST VEILING + + +As soon as the old captain's time was up, Gard took up his work in the +mines with energetic hopefulness. + +His hopefulness was unbounded. His energy he tempered with all the tact +and discretion his knowledge of men, and his experience in handling +them, had taught him. + +His father had been lost at sea the year after his son was born. His +mother, a good and God-fearing woman, had strained every nerve to give +her boy an education. She died when Stephen was fourteen. He took to his +father's calling and had followed it with a certain success for ten +years, by which time he had attained the position of first mate. + +Then the owner of the Botallack Mine, in Cornwall, having come across +him in the way of business, and been struck by his intelligence and +aptitude, induced him by a lucrative appointment to try his luck on +land. + +The managers of the Sark Mines, seeking a special man for somewhat +special circumstances, had applied to Botallack for assistance, and +Stephen Gard came to Sark as the representative of many hopes which, so +far, had been somewhat lacking in results. + +But, as old Tom Hamon had predicted, he very soon found that he had laid +his hand to no easy plough. + +The Sark men were characteristically difficult, and made the difficulty +greater by not understanding him--or declining to understand, which came +to the same thing--when he laid down his ideas and endeavoured to bring +them to his ways. + +Some, without doubt, had no English, and their patois was quite beyond +him. Others could understand him an they would, but deliberately chose +not to--partly from a conservative objection to any change whatever, and +partly from an idea that he had been imported for the purpose of driving +them, and driving is the last thing a Sark man will submit to. + +Old Tom Hamon, and a few others who had a financial interest in the +mines, assisted him all they could, in hopes of thereby assisting +themselves, but they were few. + +As for the Cornishmen and Welshmen, the success or failure of the Sark +Mines mattered little to them. There was always mining going on +somewhere and competent men were always in demand. They were paid so +much a week, small output or large, and without a doubt the small output +entailed less labour than the large. They naturally regarded with no +great favour the man whose present aim in life it was to ensure the +largest output possible. + +And so Gard found himself confronted by many difficulties, and, +moreover, and greatly to the troubling of his mind, found himself looked +upon as a dictator and an interloper by the men whom he had hoped to +benefit. + +Concerning the mines themselves he was not called upon for an opinion. +The managers had satisfied themselves as to the presence of silver. If +his opinion had been asked it would have confirmed them. But all he had +to do was to follow the veins and win the ore in paying quantities, and +he found himself handicapped on every hand by the obstinacy of his men. + +Outside business matters he was very well satisfied with his +surroundings. + +In such spare time as he had, he wandered over the Island with eager, +open eyes, marvelling at its wonders and enjoying its natural beauties +with rare delight. + +The great granite cliffs, with their deep indentations and stimulating +caves and crannies; the shimmering blue and green sea, with its long +slow heave which rushed in foam and tumult up the rock-pools and +gullies; the softer beauties of rounded down and flower-and fern-clad +slopes honeycombed with rabbit holes; the little sea-gardens teeming +with novel life; in all these he found his resource and a certain +consolation for his loneliness. + +And in the Hamon household he found much to interest him and not a +little ground for speculation. + +Old Mrs. Hamon--Grannie--had promptly ordered him in for inspection, +and, after prolonged and careful observation from the interior of the +black sun-bonnet, had been understood to approve him, since she said +nothing to the contrary. + +It took him some time to arrive at the correct relationship between +young Tom and Nance and Bernel, for it seemed quite incredible that +fruit so diverse should spring from one parent stem. + +For Tom was all that was rough and boorish--rude to Mrs. Hamon, coarse, +and at times overbearing to Nance and Bernel, to such an extent, indeed, +that more than once Gard had difficulty in remembering that he himself +was only a visitor on sufferance and not entitled to interfere in such +intimate family matters. + +Tom was not slow to perceive this, and in consequence set himself +deliberately to provoke it by behaviour even more outrageous than usual. +Time and again Gard would have rejoiced to take him outside and express +his feelings to their fullest satisfaction. + +With Mrs. Hamon and Bernel he was on the most friendly footing, his +undisguised sentiments in the matter of Tom commending him to them +decisively. + +But with Nance he made no headway whatever. + +It was an absolutely new sensation to him, and a satisfaction the +meaning of which he had not yet fully gauged, to be living under the +same roof with a girl such as this. He found himself listening for her +voice outside and the sound of her feet, and learned almost at once to +distinguish between the clatter of her wooden pattens and any one else's +when she was busy in the yard or barns. + +Even though she held him at coolest arm's length, and repelled any +slightest attempt at abridgment of the distance, he still rejoiced in +the sight of her and found the world good because of her presence in it. + +He did not understand her feeling about him in the least. He did not +know that she had had to give up her room for him--that she detested the +mines and everything tainted by them, and himself as head and forefront +of the offence--that she regarded him as an outsider and a foreigner and +therefore quite out of place in Sark. He only knew that he saw very +little of her and would have liked to see a great deal more. + +The very reserve of her treatment of himself--one might even say her +passive endurance of him--served but to stimulate within him the wish to +overcome it. The attraction of indifference is a distinct force in life. + +There was something so trim and neat and altogether captivating to him +in the slim energetic figure, in its short blue skirts and print jacket, +as it whisked to and fro, inside and out, on its multifarious duties, +and still more in the sweet, serious face, glimmering coyly in the +shadow of the great sun-bonnet and always moulded to a fine, but, as it +seemed to him, a somewhat unnatural gravity in his company. + +And yet he was quite sure she could be very much otherwise when she +would. For he had heard her singing over her work, and laughing merrily +with Bernel; and her face, sweet as it was in its repression, seemed to +him more fitted for smiles and laughter and joyousness. + +He saw, of course, that brother Tom was a constant source of annoyance +to them all, but especially to her, and his blood boiled impotently on +her account. + +He carried with him--as a delightful memory of her, though not without +its cloud--the pretty picture she made when he came upon her one day in +the orchard, milking--for, strictly as the Sabbath may be observed, cows +must still be milked on a Sunday, not being endowed manna-like, with the +gift of miraculous double production on a Saturday. + +Her head was pressed into her favourite beast's side, and she was +crooning soothingly to it as the white jets ping-panged into the +frothing pail, and he stood for a moment watching her unseen. + +Then the cow slowly turned her head towards him, considered him gravely +for a moment, decided he was unnecessary and whisked her tail +impatiently. Nance's lullaby stopped, she looked round with a reproving +frown, and he went silently on his way. + +It was another Sunday afternoon that, as he lay in the bracken on the +slope of a headland, he saw two slim figures racing down a bare slope on +the opposite side of a wide blue gulf, with joyous chatter, and +recognized Nance and Bernel. + +They disappeared and he felt lonely. Then they came picking their way +round a black spur below, and stood for a minute or two looking down at +something beneath them. Which something he presently discovered must be +a pool of size among the rocks, for after a brief retiral, Nance behind +a boulder and Bernel into a black hollow, they came out again, she +lightly clad in fluttering white and Bernel in nothing at all, and with +a shout of delight dived out of sight into the pool below. + +He could hear their shouts and laughter echoed back by the huge +overhanging rocks. He saw them climb out again and sit sunning +themselves on the grey ledge like a pair of sea-birds, and Nance's +exiguous white garment no longer fluttered in the breeze. + +Then in they went again, and again, and again, till, tiring of the +limits of the pool--huge as he afterwards found it to be--they crept +over the barnacled rocks to the sea, and flung themselves fearlessly in, +and came ploughing through it towards his headland. And he shrank still +lower among the bracken, for though he had watched the distant little +figure in white with a slight sense of sacrilege, and absolutely no +sense of impropriety but only of enjoyment, he would not for all he was +worth have had her know that he had watched at all, since he could +imagine how she would resent it. + +Nevertheless, these unconscious revelations of her real self were to him +as jewels of price, and he treasured the memory of them accordingly. + +He watched them swim back and disappear among the rocks, and presently +go merrily up the bare slope again; and he lay long in the bracken, +scarce daring to move, and when he did, he crept away warily, as one +guilty of a trespass. + +And glad he was that he had done so, for he had proof of her feeling +that same night at supper. + +Peter Mauger came sheepishly in again with Tom, and Tom, when he had +satisfied the edge of his hunger, must wax facetious in his brotherly +way. + +"Peter and me was sitting among the rocks over against big pool +s'afternoon and we saw things"--with a grin. + +"Aw, Tom!" deprecated Peter in red confusion. + +"An' Peter, he said he never seen anything so pretty in all his life +as--" + +"Aw now, Tom, you're a liar! I never said anything about it." + +"You thought it, or your face was liar too, my boy. Like a dog after a +rabbit it was." + +"It was just like you both to lie watching," flamed Nance. "If you'd +both go and jump into the sea every day you'd be a great deal nicer than +you are; and if you'd stop there it would be a great deal nicer for us." + +"Aw--Nance!" from Peter, and a great guffaw from Tom, while Gard devoted +himself guiltily to his plate. + +"You looked nice before you went in," chuckled Tom, who never knew when +to stop, "but you looked a sight nicer when you came out and sat on +rocks with it all stuck to you--" + +"You're a--a--a disgusting thing, Tom Hamon, and you're just as bad, +Peter Mauger!" and she looked as if she would have flown at them, but, +instead, jumped up and flung out of the room. + +Gard's innate honesty would not permit him to take up the cudgels this +time. Inwardly he felt himself involved in her condemnation, though none +but himself knew it. + +But he had taken at times to glowering at Tom, when his rudeness passed +bounds, in a way which made that young man at once uncomfortable and +angry, and at times provoked him to clownish attempts at reprisal. + +Mrs. Hamon bore with the black sheep quietly, since nothing else was +possible to her, though her annoyance and distress were visible enough. + +Old Tom was completely obsessed with his visions of wealth ever just +beyond the point of his pick. He toiled long hours in the damp +darknesses below seas, with the sounds of crashing waves and rolling +boulders close above him, and at times threateningly audible through the +stratum of rocks between; and when he did appear at meals he was too +weary to trouble about anything beyond the immediate satisfaction of his +needs. Besides, young Tom had long since proved his strength equal to +his father's, and remonstrance or rebuke would have produced no effect. + +As to Bernel, he was only a boy as yet, but he was Nance's boy and all +she would have wished him. + +In time he would grow up and be a match for Tom, and meanwhile she would +see to it that he grew up as different from Tom in every respect as it +was possible for a boy to be. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +HOW GRANNIE SCHEMED SCHEMES + + +Stephen Gard's experience of women had been small. + +His mother had been everything to him till she died, when he was +fourteen, and he went to sea. + +When she was gone, that which she had put into him remained, and kept +him clear of many of the snares to which the life of the young sailorman +is peculiarly liable. + +When he attained a position of responsibility he had had no time for +anything else. And so, of his own experience, he knew little of women +and their ways. + +Less, indeed, than Nance knew of men and their ways. And that was not +very much and tended chiefly to scorn and dissatisfaction, seeing that +her knowledge was gleaned almost entirely from her experiences of Tom +and Peter Mauger. Her father was, of course, her father, and on somewhat +of a different plane from other men. + +And so, if Nance was a wonder and a revelation to Gard, Gard was no less +of, at all events, a novelty in the way of mankind to Nance. + +His quiet bearing and good manners, after a life-long course of Tom, had +a distinct attraction for her. + +That he could burst into flame if occasion required, she was convinced. +For, more than once, out of the corner of her eye and round the edge of +her sun-bonnet, she had caught his thunderous looks of disgust at some +of Tom's carryings-on. + +She would, perhaps, have been ashamed to confess it but, somewhere down +in her heart, she rather hoped, sooner or later, to see his lightning as +well. It would be worth seeing, and she was inclined to think it would +be good for Tom--and the rest of the family. + +For Gard looked as if he could give a good account of himself in case of +need. His well-built, tight-knit figure gave one the impression that he +was even stronger than he looked. + +If only he had been a Sark man and had nothing to do with those horrid +mines! But all her greatest dislikes met in him, and she could not bring +herself to the point of relaxing one iota in these matters of which he +was unfortunately and unconsciously guilty. + +The state of affairs at the mines improved not one whit as the months +dragged on. There was a smouldering core of discontent which might break +into flame at any moment--or into disastrous explosion if the necessary +element were added. + +Old Tom did his best, and stood loyally by the new captain and the +interests of the mine and himself. But he was in a minority and could so +far do no more than oppose vehement talk to vehement talk, and that, as +a rule, is much like pouring oil on roaring flames. + +Not many of those who were shareholders in the mine were also workers in +it, and the workers met constantly at the house of a neighbour, who had +turned his kitchen to an undomestic but profitable purpose by supplying +drink to the miners at what seemed to the English and Welshmen +ridiculously low prices. + +In that kitchen the new captain and his new methods were vehemently +discussed and handled roughly enough--in words. And hot words and the +thoughts they excite, and wild thoughts and the words they find vent in, +are at times the breeders of deeds that were better left undone. + +To all financially interested in the mines the need for strictest +economy and fullest efficiency was patent enough. It was still a case of +faith and hope--a case of continual putting in of work and money, and, +so far, of getting little out--except the dross which intervened between +them and their highest hopes. + +There was silver there without a doubt, and the many thin veins they +came across lured them on with constant hope of mighty pockets and +deposits of which these were but the flying indications. + +And all putting in and getting nothing out results in stressful times, +in business ventures as in the case of individuals. The great shafts +sank deeper and deeper, the galleries branched out far under the sea, +and there was a constant call for more and more money, lest that already +sunk should be lost. + +Mr. Hamon, disappointed in his view of raising money on the farm by +Tom's obstinacy, in the bitterness of his spirit and the urgent +necessities of the mines, conceived a new idea which, if he was able to +carry it out, would serve the double purpose of satisfying his own needs +at the recalcitrant Tom's expense. + +"I must have more money for the mines," he said to his wife one day in +private. "I'm thinking of selling the farm." + +"Selling the farm?" gasped Mrs. Hamon, doubtful of her own hearing. For +selling the farm is the very last resource of the utterly unfortunate. +"Aye, selling the farm. Why not? It'll all come back twenty times over +when we strike the pockets, and then we can live where we will, or we +can go across to Guernsey, or to England if you like." + +But Mrs. Hamon was silent and full of thought. She had no desire for +wealth, and still less to live in Guernsey or in England, or anywhere in +the world but Sark. + +He had been a good husband to her on the whole, until this silver craze +absorbed him. She had never found it necessary to counter his wishes +before. But this idea of selling the farm cut to the very roots of her +life. + +For Nance's sake and Bernel's she must oppose it with all that was in +her. If the farm were sold the money would all go into those gaping +black mouths and bottomless pits at Port Gorey. The home would be broken +up--an end of all things. It must not be. + +"I should think many times before selling the farm if I were you," she +said quietly, and left it there for the moment. + +But old Tom, having made up his mind, and the necessities of the case +pressing, lost no time over the matter. + +"I've been speaking to John Guille about that business," he said, next +day, in a confidently casual way. + +"About--?" + +"About the farm. He'll give me six hundred pounds for it and take the +stock at what it's worth, and he's willing we should stop on as tenants +at fifty pounds a year rent." + +His wife was ominously silent. He glanced at her doubtfully. + +"I shall stop on as tenant for the present and Tom can go on working +it. When we reach the silver, and the money begins to come back, we can +decide what to do afterwards." + +Still his wife said nothing, but her face was white and set. It was hard +for her to put herself in opposition to him, but here she found it +necessary. He was going too far. + +It was only when the silence had grown ominous and painful, that she +said, slowly and with difficulty-- + +"I'm sorry to look like going against you, Tom, but I can't see it right +you should sell the farm." + +"It'll make no difference to you and the young ones. I'll see to that." + +"It's not right and you mustn't do it." + +"Mustn't do it!--And it's as good as done!" + +"It can't be done until your mother and I consent, and we can't see it's +a right thing to do." + +"Can't you see that you're only saving the farm for Tom?" he argued +wrathfully, bottling his anger as well as he could. "It's nothing to you +and the young ones in any case." + +"I know, but all the same it's not right. If it was to buy another farm +it would be different, for you could leave it as you choose. But to +throw away the money on those mines--" + +This was a lapse from diplomacy and old Tom resented it. + +"Throw the money away!" he shouted, casting all restraint to the winds. +"Who's going to throw the money away? It's like you women. You never can +see beyond the ends of your noses. I'll tell you what I'll do--I'll pay +you out your dower right in hard cash. Will that satisfy you?" + +If he died she would have a life interest in one-third of the farm, but +could not, of course, will it to Nance or Bernel. If he sold the farm +and paid her her lawful third in cash, she could do what she chose with +it. It was therefore distinctly to her own interest to fall in with his +plan. + +But, dearly as she would have liked to make some provision, however +small, for Nance and Bernel, her whole Sark soul was up in arms against +the idea of selling the farm. + +It would feel like a break-up of life. Nothing, she was sure, would ever +be the same again. + +"It's not right," she said simply. + +"You're a fool--" and then the look on her quiet face--such a look as +she might have worn if he had struck her--penetrated the storm-cloud of +his anger. He remembered her years of wifely patience and faithful +service, "--a foolish woman. A Sark wife should know which side of her +bread the butter is on. Can't you see--" + +"I know all that, Tom, but I hope you'll give up this notion of selling +the farm. Your mother feels just as I do about it. We've talked it +over--" + +"I'll talk to her," and he went in at once to the old lady's room. + +But Grannie gave him no time for argument. + +"It's you's the fool, Tom," she said decisively, as he crossed the +threshold. "There's not enough silver in Sark to make a plate for your +coffin." + +"I brought out more'n enough to make your plate and mine, myself +to-day," he said triumphantly. + +"Ah, bah! You'd have done better for yourself and for Sark if you'd let +it lie." + +"I'd have done better still if I'd got twice as much." + +"If the good God set silver inside Sark, it was because He thought it +was the best place for it, and it's not for the likes of you to be +trying to get it out." + +"What's it there for if it's not to be got out?" + +"You mark me, Tom Hamon, no good will come of all this upsetting and +digging out the insides of the Island--nenni-gia!" + +"Pergui, mother, where do you think all the silver and gold in the world +came from?" + +"It didn't come out of our Sark rocks any way, mon gars." + +"Good thing for us if it had, ma fe! But, see you here, mother, if I +sell the farm it's not you and Nance that need trouble. If I pay out +your dowers in hard cash you're both of you better off than you are now, +and I'm better off too. It's only Tom could complain, and--" + +"It's hard on the lad." + +"Bidemme, it's no more than he deserves for his goings-on! Maybe it'll +do him good to have to work for his living." + +"And you would do that to get your bit more money to throw into those +big holes?" + +"Never you mind me. I'll take care of myself, and we'll see who's wisest +in the end. Now, will you agree to it?" + +"I'll talk it over with Nancy again," and the big black sun-bonnet +nodded with sapient significance. "Send her to me." + +"It's from you I got my good sense," said old Tom approvingly, and went +off in search of his wife, while the clever old lady pondered deep +schemes. + +"Here's the way of it, Nancy," she said, when Mrs. Hamon came in. "He's +crazy on these silver mines, and he's willing to pay out our dowers, +yours and mine, so that he may throw the rest into the big holes at Port +Gorey. Ch'est b'en! Your money and mine take more than half of what he +gets. If you'll put yours to mine I'll make up the difference from what +I've saved, and we'll retraite the farm, and it shall go to Nance and +Bernel when the time comes." + +"I can't help thinking it's rather hard on Tom," suggested Mrs. Hamon, +with less vigour than before. + +The idea appealed strongly to her maternal feelings and she had suffered +much from Tom; still her instinct for right was there and was not to be +stifled with a word. + +"If you feel so when the time comes we could divide it among them, and +till then Tom would have to behave himself," said the wily old lady, +with a chuckle. + +That again appealed strongly to Mrs. Hamon. + +"Yes, I think I would agree to that," she said, after thinking it all +over. + +All things considered, Grannie's scheme was an excellent one and worthy +of her. + +By a curious anomaly of Sark law, though a man may not mortgage his +property without the consent of his next-in-succession, he can sell it +outright and do what he chooses with the proceeds. His wife has a dower +right of one-third of both real and personal estate, into which she +enters upon his death. The right, however, is there while he still +lives, and must be taken into consideration in any sale of the property. + +All property is sold subject to the "retraite"; in plain English, no +sale is completed for six weeks, and within that time every member of +the seller's family, in due order of succession, even to the collateral +branches, has the right to take over, or withdraw, the property at the +same price as has been agreed upon, paying in addition to the Seigneur +the trezieme or thirteenth part of the price, as by law provided. + +If Grannie's scheme were carried out, therefore, she and Mrs. Hamon +would become owners of the farm. Tom would be there on sufferance and +might be kept within bounds or kicked out. Old Tom would have something +more to throw into the holes at Port Gorey. And Nance and Bernel could +be adequately provided for. An excellent scheme, therefore, for all +concerned--except young Tom, who would have to behave himself better +than he was in the habit of doing or suffer the consequences. + +"Yes," said Nancy. "I don't see that I'd be doing right by Nance and +Bernel not to agree to that. And if Tom behaves himself," at which +Grannie grunted doubtfully, "he can have his share when the time comes." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +HOW GARD FOUGHT GALES AND TOM + + +So far the discussion as to the sale of the farm had been confined to +the elders. + +Young Tom had viewed John Guille's visits to the place with the lowering +suspicion of a bull at a stranger's invasion of his field. He wondered +what was going on and surmised that it was nothing to his advantage. + +Words had been rare between him and his father since his refusal to lend +himself to a loan on the farm, but his suspicion got the better of his +obstinacy at last. + +"What's John Guille want coming about here so much?" he demanded +bluntly. + +"I suppose he can come if he wants to. He's going to buy the farm." + +"Going--to--buy--the--farm!... You--going--to--sell--the--farm--away-- +from--me?" roared young Tom, like the bull wounded to the quick. + +"Ouaie, pardi! And why not? You had the chance of saving it and you +wouldn't." + +"If you do it, I'll--" + +"Ouaie! You'll--" + +"I'll--Go'zammin, I'll--I'll--" + +"Unless you're a fool, mon gars, you'll be careful what you say or do. +It'll all come back from the mines and you'll have your share if you +behave yourself." + +"---- you and your mines!" was Tom's valedictory, and he flung away in +mortal anger; anger, too, which, from a Sark point of view, was by no +means unjustified. Selling the estate away from the rightful heir was +disinheritance, a blow below the belt which most testators reserve until +they are safe from reach of bodily harm. + +Tom left the house and cut all connection with his family. He drifted +away like a threatening cloud, and the sun shone out, and Stephen Gard, +with the rest, found greater comfort in his room than they had ever +found in his company. + +So gracious, indeed, did the atmosphere of the house become, purged of +Tom, that Gard, to his great joy, found even Nance not impossible of +approach. + +He had always treated her with extremest deference and courtesy, +respecting, as far as he was able, her evident wish for nothing but the +most distant intercourse. + +But he was such a very great change from Tom! + +She caught his dark eyes fixed on her at times with a look that reminded +her of Helier Baker's black spaniel's, who was a very close friend of +hers. They had neither dog nor cat at present at La Closerie, both +having been scrimped by the silver mines, when old Tom's first bad +attack of economy came on. + +Then, at table, Gard was always quietly on the look-out to anticipate +her wants. That was a refreshing novelty. Even Bernel, her special +crony, thought only of his own requirements when food stood before him. + +Now and again Gard began to venture on a question direct to her, +generally concerning some bit of the coast he had been scrambling about, +and she found it rather pleasant to be able to give information about +things he did not know to this undoubtedly clever mine captain. + +So, little by little, he grew into her barest toleration but apparently +nothing more, and was puzzled at her aloofness and reserve, not +understanding at all her bitter feeling against the mines and everything +connected with them. + +The first time he went to church with her and Bernel was a great +white-stone day to him. + +He had gone by himself once every Sunday, and done his best to follow +the service in French, which he was endeavouring to pick up as best he +could. And, if he could only now and again come across a word he +understood, still the being in church and worshipping with others--even +though it was in an unknown tongue--the sound of the chants and hymns +and responses, and the mild austerity and reverent intonation of the +good old Vicar, all induced a Sabbath feeling in him, and made a welcome +change from the rougher routine of the week, which he would have missed +most sorely. + +On that special afternoon, he had been lying on the green wall of the +old French fort, enjoying that most wonderful view over the shimmering +blue sea, with Herm and Jethou resting on it like great green velvet +cushions, and Guernsey gleaming softly in the distance, and Brecqhou and +the Gouliot Head, and all the black outlying rocks fringed with creamy +foam, till it should be time to go along to church. + +When he heard voices in the road below and saw Nance and Bernel, he +jumped up on the spur of the moment, and pushed through the gorse and +bracken, and stood waiting for them. + +"Will you let me join you?" he asked, as they came up, fallen shyly +silent. + +"We don't mind," said Bernel, and they went along together. + +"This always strikes me afresh, each time I see it, as one of the most +extraordinary places I've come across," said Gard, as they dipped down +towards the Coupee. + +"Wait till we're coming home," said Bernel hopefully. + +"Why?" + +"You see those clouds over there? That's wind--sou'-west--you'll see +what it's like after church." + +"Your gales are as extraordinary as all the rest--and your tides and +currents and sea-mists. I suppose one must be born here to understand +them. We have a fine coast in Cornwall, but I think you beat us." + +"Of course. This is Sark." + +"And does no one ever tumble over the Coupee in the dark?" + +"N--o, not often, any way. Nance once saw a man blown over." + +"That was a bad thing to see," said Gard, turning towards her. "How was +it?" + +"I was coming from school--" + +"All alone?" + +"Yes, all alone. The others had gone on; I'd been kept in, and it was +nearly dark. It was blowing hard, and when I got to the first rock here +I thought it was going to blow me over. So I went down on my hands and +knees and was just going to crawl, when old Hirzel Mollet came down the +other side with a great sheaf of wheat on his back. He was taking it to +the Seigneur for his tithes. And then in a moment he gave a shout and I +saw he was gone." + +"That was terrible. What did you do?" + +"I screamed and crawled back across the narrow bit to the cutting, and +ran screaming up to the cottages at Plaisance, and Thomas Carre and his +men came running down. But they could do nothing. They went round in a +boat from the Creux, but he was dead." + +"And how did you get home?" + +"Thomas Carre took me across and I ran on alone, but it was months +before I could forget poor old Hirzel Mollet." + +"I should think so, indeed. That was a terrible thing to see." + +The opening of the mines, and the influx of the Welsh and Cornishmen and +their wives and children, with their new and up-to-date ideas of living +and dressing, had wrought a great and not altogether wholesome change +upon the original inhabitants. + +All the week they were hard at work in their fields or their boats, but +on Sunday the lonely lanes leading to Little Sark were thronged with +sightseers, curious to inspect the mines and the latest odd fashions +among the miners' wives and daughters. + +Odd, and extremely useless little parasols, were then the vogue in +England. The miners' women-folk flaunted these before the dazzled eyes +of the Sark girls, and Sark forthwith burst into flower of many-coloured +parasols. + +The mine ladies dressed in printed cottons of strange and wonderful +patterns. The Sark girls must do the same. + +"Tiens!" ejaculated Nance more than once, as they walked. "Here is Judi +Le Masurier with a new pink parasol!--and a straw bonnet with green +strings!--and every day you'll see her about the fields without so much +as a sun-bonnet on! And Rachel Guille has got a new print dress all red +roses and lilac! Mon Gyu, what are we coming to!" + +She had many such comments and still more unspoken ones. But Stephen +Gard, glancing, whenever he could do so unperceived, at the trim but +plainly-dressed little sun-bonneted figure by his side, vowed in his +heart that the whole of these others rolled into one were not to be +compared with her, and that he would give all the silver in the mines of +Sark to win her appreciation and regard. + +As they turned the corner at Vauroque, they came suddenly on a number of +men lounging on the low wall, and among them Tom Hamon, pipe in mouth +and hands in pockets. + +As they passed he made some jocular remark in the patois which provoked +a guffaw from the rest, and reddened Nance's face, and caused Bernel to +glance up at Gard and jerk round angrily towards Tom. + +"What did he say?" asked Gard, stopping. + +But Nance hurried on and he could not but follow. + +"What was it?" he asked again, as he caught up with her. + +"If you please, do not mind him. It was just one of his rudenesses." + +"They want knocking out of him." + +"He is very rude," said Nance, and they passed the Vicarage and turned +up the stony lane to the church. + +Gard was surprised by the speedy verification of Bernel's weather +forecast. Before the service was over the wind was howling round the +building with the sounds of unleashed furies, and when they got out it +was almost dark. + +They bent to the gale and pressed on, Gard with a discomforting +remembrance that the Coupee lay ahead. + +As they passed Vauroque there seemed a still larger crowd of loafers at +the corner, and again Tom's voice called rudely after them. + +Gard turned promptly and strode back to where he was sitting on the +wall, dangling his feet in devil-may-care fashion. Tom jumped down to +meet him. + +"Say that again in English, will you?" said Gard angrily. + +"Go to--!" said Tom. + +Then Gard's left fist caught him on the hinge of the right jaw, and he +reeled back among the others who had jumped down to back him up. + +"Well--? Want any more?" asked Gard stormily. + +"You wait," growled Tom, nursing his jaw, "I'll talk to you one of these +days." + +"Whenever you like, you cur. What you need is a sound thrashing and a +kick over the Coupee." + +To his surprise none of the others joined in. But he did not know them. + +They might guffaw at Tom's unseemly pleasantries, but they held him in +no high esteem--either for himself or for his position, since word of +the sale of La Closerie had got about. + +Then they were a hardy crew and held personal courage and prowess in +high respect. And in this matter there could be no possible doubt as to +where the credit lay. + +"Goin' to fight him, Tom?" drawled one, in the patois. + +"---- him!" growled Tom, but made no move that way. + +And Gard turned and went over to Nance and Bernel, who were sheltering +from the storm in lee of one of the cottages. + +If he could have seen it, there was a warmer feeling in her heart for +him than had ever been there before--a novel feeling, too, of respect +and confidence such as she had never entertained towards any other man +in all her life. + +For that quick blow had been struck on her behalf, she knew; and it was +vastly strange, and somehow good, to feel that a great strong man was +ready to stand up for her and, if necessary, to fight for her. + +She pressed silently on against the gale, with an odd little glow in her +heart, and a feeling as though something new had suddenly come into her +life. + +The gale caught them at the Coupee, and the crossing seemed to Gard not +without its risks. + +Bernel bent and ran on through the darkness without a thought of danger. + +Gard hesitated one moment and Nance stretched a hand to him, and he took +it and went steadily across. + +And, oh, the thrill of that first living touch of her! The feel of the +warm nervous little hand sent a tingling glow through him such as he had +never in his life experienced before. Verily, a white-stone day this, in +spite of winds and darkness! + +The gale howled like ten thousand demons, and the noise of the waves in +Grande Greve came up to them in a ceaseless savage roar. Gard confessed +to himself that, alone, he would never have dared to face that perilous +storm-swept bridge. But the small hand of a girl made all the difference +and he stepped alongside her without a tremor. + +"B'en, Monsieur Gard, was I right?" shouted Bernel in his ear, as they +stepped within the shelter of the cutting on the farther side. + +"You were right. It's a terrible place in a gale." + +"You wait," shouted Bernel. "We're not home yet." + +"No more Coupees, any way," and they bent again into the storm. + +They had not gone more than a hundred yards when, through some freakish +funnelling of the tumbled headlands, the gale gripped them like a giant +playing with pigmies, caught them up, flung them bodily across the road +and held Gard and Bernel pinned and panting against the green bank, +while Nance disappeared over it into the shrieking darkness. + +"Good heavens!" gasped Gard, fearful lest she should have been blown +over the cliffs, and wriggled himself up under the ceaseless thrashing +of the gale and was whirled off the top into the field beyond. + +There the pressure was less, and, getting on to his hands and knees to +crawl in search of Nance, he found her close beside him crouching in the +lee of the grassy dyke. + +He crept into shelter beside her, and presently, in the lull after a +fiercer blast than usual, she set off, bent almost double, and in a +moment they were in comparative quiet. Nance crawled through a gap into +the road and they found Bernel waiting for them. + +"Knew you'd come through there. That's what that gap's made for," he +shouted. + +"I've been in many a storm but I never felt wind like that before," said +Gard, as soon as his breath came back. + +"If you'd stopped with me you'd have been all right," said Bernel. +"There was no need for you to go after Nance. We've been through that +lots of times, haven't we, Nance?" + +"Lots." + +"I shall know next time," said Gard, and to Nance it was a fresh +experience to think of some one going out of his way to be of possible +service to her. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +HOW TOM WANTED TO BUT DIDN'T DARE + + +Before the six weeks allowed by Sark law for the retraiting of the +property had expired, Grannie and Mrs. Hamon put in their claims, and it +became generally known that they would become the new owners of La +Closerie, in place of John Guille. + +When the rumour at length reached Tom's ears, he, not unnaturally +perhaps, set down the whole matter as a plot to oust him from his +heritage and put Nance and Bernel in his place. + +So his anger grew, and he was powerless. And the impotence of an angry +man may lead him into gruesome paths. Smouldering fires burst out at +times into devastating flames, and maddened bulls put down their heads +and charge regardless of consequences. + +When Tom Hamon asked Peter Mauger to lend him his gun to go +rabbit-shooting one night, Peter, if he had been a thoughtful man, would +have declined. + +But Peter was above all things easy-going, and anything but thoughtful +of such matters as surged gloomily in Tom's angry head, and he lent him +his gun as a matter of course. + +And Tom went off across the Coupee into Little Sark, nursing his black +devil and thinking vaguely and gloomily of the things he would like to +do. For to rob a man of his rights in this fashion was past a man's +bearing, and if he was to be ruined for the sake of that solemn-faced +slip of a Nance and that young limb of a Bernel, he might as well take +payment for it all, and cut their crowing, and give them something to +remember him by. + +He had no very definite intentions. His mind was a chaos of whirling +black furies. He would like to pay somebody out for the wrongs under +which he was suffering--who, or how, was of little moment. He had been +wounded, he wanted to hit back. + +He turned off the Coupee to the left and struck down through the gorse +and bracken towards the Pot, and then crept along the cliffs and across +the fields towards La Closerie--still for three days his, in the +reversion; after that, gone from him irrevocably--a galling shame and +not to be borne by any man that called himself a man. + +Should he lie in the hedge and shoot down the old man as he came in from +those cursed mines which had started all the trouble? Or should he walk +right into the house and shoot and fell whatever he came across? If he +must suffer it would at all events be some satisfaction to think that he +had made them suffer too. + +From where he stood he could look right in through the open door, and +could hear their voices--Nance and Bernel and Mrs. Hamon--the +interlopers, the schemers, the stealers of his rights. + +The shaft of light was eclipsed suddenly as Nance came out and tripped +across the yard on some household duty. + +He remembered how he used to terrify her by springing out of the +darkness at her. She had helped to bring all this trouble about. + +Why should he not--? Why should he not--? + +And while his gun still shook in his hands to the wild throbbing of his +pulses, Nance passed out of his sight into the barn. + +The deed a man may do on the spur of the moment, when his brain is on +fire, is not so readily done when it has to be thought about. + +Then Mrs. Hamon came to the door, and called to Nance to bring with her +a piece or two of wood for the fire. + +Here was his chance! Here was the head and front of the offence, past, +present, and future! If she had never come into the family there would +have been no Nance, no Bernel, no selling of the farm, maybe. A movement +of the arms, the crooking of a finger, and things would be even between +them. + +But--it would still be he who would have to pay--as always! + +All through he had been the sufferer, and if he did this thing he must +suffer still more--always he who must pay. + +The man who hesitates is lost, or saved. When the contemplator of evil +deeds begins also to contemplate consequences, reason is beginning to +resume her sway. + +Then he heard heavy footsteps and voices. His father and Stephen Gard. + +Another chance! Gard he hated. There was a bruise on his right jaw +still. And the old man!--he had cut him out of his inheritance by going +crazy over those cursed mines. + +"I'm sorry you have gone so far," Gard was saying as they passed. "If +you had consulted me I should have advised against it. Mining is always +more or less of a speculation. I would never, if I could help it, let +any man put more into a mine than he can afford to lose." + +"If you know a thing's a good thing you want all you can get out of +it," said old Tom stoutly. + +"Yes, if--" and they passed into the house, while Tom in the hedge was +considering which of them he would soonest see dead. + +Now they were all inside together. A full charge of small shot might do +considerable and satisfactory damage. + +But thought of the certain consequences to himself welled coldly up in +him again, and he slunk noiselessly away, cursing himself for leaving +undone the work he had come out to do. + +On the common above the Pot, a terrified white scut rose almost under +his feet and sped along in front of him. He blew it into rags, and was +so ashamed of his prowess that he kicked the remnants into the gorse and +went home empty-handed. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +HOW OLD TOM FOUND THE SILVER HEART + + +One of the first things Stephen Gard had seen to, when he got matters +into his own hands, was the safeguarding of the mines from ever-possible +irruption of the sea. The great steam pumps kept the workings reasonably +clear of drainage water, but no earthly power could drain the sea if it +once got in. + +The central shafts had sunk far below sea-level. The lateral galleries +had, in some cases, run out seawards and were now extending far under +the sea itself. + +From the whirling coils of the tides and races round the coast, he +judged that the sea-bed was as seamed and broken and full of faults as +the visible cliffs ashore. + +In bad weather, the men in those submarine galleries and the +outbranching tunnels could hear the crash of the waves above their +heads, and the rolling and grinding of the mighty boulders with which +they disported. + +If, by chance, the sea should break through, the peril to life and +property would be great. + +He therefore caused to be constructed and fitted inside each tunnel, at +the point where it branched from its main gallery, a stout iron door, +roughly hinged at the top and falling, in case of need, into the flange +of a thick wooden frame. The framework was fitted to the opening on the +seaward side, in a groove cut deep into the rock round each side and +top and bottom. The heavy iron door, when open, lay up against the roof +of the tunnel and was supported by two wooden legs. If the sea should +break through, the first rush of the water would sweep away the +supporting legs, the iron door would fall with a crash into the flange +of the wooden frame, and the greater the pressure the tighter it would +fit. + +So the weight of the sea would seal the iron door against the wooden +casement, which would swell and press always tighter against the rock, +and that boring would be closed for ever. And if any man should be +inside the tunnel when the sea broke through, there he must stop, +drowned like a rat in its hole, unless by a miracle he could make his +way along the tunnel before the trap-door fell. + +Gard never ceased to enjoin the utmost caution on the men who undertook +these outermost experimental borings. + +His strict injunctions were to cease work at the first sign of water in +these undersea tunnels, make for the gallery, close the trap, and await +events. + +Believing absolutely in the existence of one or more great central +deposits whence all these thin veins of silver had come, and hoping to +strike them at every blow of his pick, old Tom Hamon was the keenest +explorer and opener of new leads in the mine. + +"The silver's there all right," he said, time and again, "it only wants +finding," and he pushed ahead, here and there, wherever he thought the +chances most favourable. + +He took his rightful pay along with the rest for the work he did, but it +was not for wages he wrought. Ever just beyond the point of his +energetic pick lay fortune, and he was after it with all his heart and +soul and bodily powers. + +For months he had been following up a vein which ran out under the sea, +and grew richer and richer as he laid it bare. He believed it would lead +him to the mother vein, and that to the heart of all the Sark silver. +And so he toiled, early and late, and knew no weariness. + +His tunnel, in places not more than three and four feet high and between +two and three feet wide, extended now several hundred feet under the +sea, and was fitted at the gallery end with the usual raised iron door. + +It was hot work in there, in the dim-lighted darkness, in spite of the +fact that the sea was close above his head. Fortunately, here and there, +he had come upon curious little chambers like empty bubbles in one-time +molten rock, ten feet across and as much in height, some of them, and +curiously whorled and wrought, and these allowed him breathing spaces +and welcome relief from the crampings of the passage. + +When he had broken into such a chamber it needed, at times, no little +labour to rediscover his vein on the opposite side. But he always found +it in time, and broke through the farther wall with unusual difficulty, +and went on. + +The men generally worked in pairs, but old Tom would have no one with +him. He did all the work, picking and hauling the refuse single-handed. +The work should be his alone, his alone the glory of the great and +ultimate discovery. + +The rocks above him sweated and dripped at times, but that was only to +be expected and gave him no anxiety. Alone with his eager hopes he +chipped and picked, and felt no loneliness because of the flame of hope +that burned within him. Above him he could hear the long roll and growl +of the wave-tormented boulders--now a dull, heavy fall like the blow of +a gigantic mallet, and again a long-drawn crash like shingle grinding +down a hillside. But these things he had heard before and had grown +accustomed to. + +And so it was fated that, one day, after patiently picking round a great +piece of rock till it was loosened from its ages-old bed, he felt it +tremble under his hand, and leaning his weight against it, it +disappeared into space beyond. + +That had happened before when he struck one of the chambers, and he felt +no uneasiness. If there had been water beyond, it would have given him +notice by oozing round the rock as he loosened it. The brief rush of +foul gas, which always followed the opening of one of these hollows, he +avoided by lying flat on the ground until he felt the air about him +sweeter again. + +Then, enlarging the aperture with his pick, he scrambled through into +this chamber now first opened since time began. + +It was like many he had seen before, but considerably larger. Holding +his light at arm's length, above his head, a million little eyes +twinkled back at him as the rays shot to and fro on the pointed facets +of the rock crystals which hung from the roof and started out of the +walls and ground. + +The gleaming fingers seemed all pointed straight at him. Was it in +mockery or in acknowledgment of his prowess? + +For, in among the pointing fingers, it seemed to him that the +silver-bearing veins ran thick as the setting of an ancient jewel, +twisted and curling and winding in and out so that his eyes were dazzled +with the wonder of it all. + +"A man! A man at last! Since time began we have awaited him, and this +is he at last!" so those myriad eyes and pointing fingers seemed to cry +to him. + +And up above, the roar and growl of the sea sounded closer than ever +before. + +But he had found his treasure and he heeded nought beside. Here, of a +surety, he said to himself, was the silver heart from which the +scattered veins had been projected. He had found what he had sought with +such labours and persistency. What else mattered? + +And then, without a moment's warning--the end. + +No signal crackings, no thin jets or streams from the green immensity +beyond. + +Just one universal collapse, one chaotic climacteric, begun and ended in +the same instant, as the crust of the chamber, no longer supported by +the in-pent air, dissolved under the irresistible pressure of the sea. + +Where the sparkling chamber had been was a whirling vortex of bubbling +green water, in which tumbled grotesquely the body of a man. + +The water boiled furiously along the tunnel and foamed into the gallery. +The wooden supports of the iron door gave way; the door sank slowly into +its appointed place. + +Old Tom Hamon was dead and buried. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +HOW YOUNG TOM FOUND HIS MATCH + + +The news spread quickly. + +Tom Hamon heard it as he sat brooding over his wrongs and cursing the +chicken-heartedness and fear of consequences which had robbed him of his +revenge. + +He started up with an incredulous curse and tore across the Coupee to +the mines to make sure. + +But there was no doubt about it. Old Tom was dead: the six weeks were +still two days short of their fulfilment; the property was his; his day +had come. + +He walked straight to La Closerie, and stalked grimly into the kitchen, +where, as it happened, they were sitting over a doleful and long-delayed +meal. + +Mrs. Hamon had been too overwhelmed by the unexpected blow to consider +all its bearings. Grannie, looking beyond, had foreseen consequences and +trouble with Tom, and had sent for Stephen Gard and given him some +elementary instruction relative to the laws of succession in Sark. + +Tom stalked in upon them with malevolent triumph. They had tried their +best to oust him from his inheritance and the act of God had spoiled +them. He felt almost virtuous. + +But his natural truculence, and his not altogether unnatural exultation +at the frustration of these plans for his own upsetting, overcame all +else. Of regret for their personal loss and his own he had none. + +"Oh--ho! Mighty fine, aren't we, feasting on the best," he began. "Let +me tell you all this is mine now, spite of all your dirty tricks, and +you can get out, all of you, and the sooner the better. Eating my best +butter, too! Ma fe, fat is good enough for the likes of you," and he +stretched a long arm and lifted the dish of golden butter from the +board--butter, too, which Nance and her mother had made themselves after +also milking the cows. + +"Put that down!" said Gard, in a voice like the taps of a hammer. + +"You get out--bravache! Bretteur! I'm master here." + +"In six weeks--if you live that long. Until things are properly divided +you'll keep out of this, if you're well advised." + +"I will, will I? We'll see about that, Mister Bully. I know what you're +up to, trying to fool our Nance with your foreign ways, and I won't have +it. She's not for the likes of you or any other man that's got a wife +and children over in England--" + +This was the suddenly-thought-of burden of a discussion over the cups +one night at the canteen, soon after Gard's arrival, when the +possibility of his being a married man had been mooted and had remained +in Tom's turgid brain as a fact. + +"By the Lord!" cried Gard, starting up in black fury, "if you can't +behave yourself I'll break every bone in your body." + +And Nance's face, which had unconsciously stiffened at Tom's words, +glowed again at Gard's revelation of the natural man in him, and her +eyes shone with various emotions--doubts, hopes, fears, and a keen +interest in what would follow. + +The first thing that followed was the dish of butter, which hurtled past +Gard's head and crashed into the face of the clock, and then fell with a +flop to the earthen floor. + +The next was Tom's lowered head and cumbrous body, as he charged like a +bull into Gard and both rolled to the ground, the table escaping +catastrophe by a hair's-breadth. + +Mrs. Hamon had sprung up with clasped hands and piteous face. Nance and +Bernel had sprung up also, with distress in their faces but still more +of interest. They had come to a certain reliance on Gard's powers, and +how many and many a time had they longed to be able to give Tom a +well-deserved thrashing! + +Through the open door of her room came Grannie's hard little voice, "Now +then! Now then! What are you about there?" but no one had time to tell +her. + +Gard was up in a moment, panting hard, for Tom's bull-head had caught +him in the wind. + +"If you want ... to fight ... come outside!" he jerked. + +"---- you!" shouted Tom, as he struggled to his knees and then to his +feet. "I'll smash you!" and he lowered his head and made another blind +rush. + +But this time Gard was ready for him, and a stout buffet on the ear as +he passed sent him crashing in a heap into the bowels of the clock, +which had witnessed no such doings since Tom's great-grandfather brought +it home and stood it in its place, and it testified to its amazement at +them by standing with hands uplifted at ten minutes to two until it was +repaired many months afterwards. + +Tom got up rather dazedly, and Gard took him by the shoulders and ran +him outside before he had time to pull himself together. + +"Now," said Gard, shaking him as a bull-dog might a calf. "See here! +You're not wanted here at present, and if you make any more trouble +you'll suffer for it," and he gave him a final whirl away from the house +and went in and closed the door. + +Tom stood gazing at it in dull fury, thought of smashing the window, +picked up a stone, remembered just in time that it would be his window, +so flung the stone and a curse against the door and departed. + +"I'm sorry," said Gard, looking deprecatingly at Nance. "I'm afraid I +lost my temper." + +"It was all his fault," said Nance. "Did he hurt you?" + +"Only my feelings. He had no right to say such things or do what he +did." + +"It's always good to see him licked," said Bernel with gusto. "Nance and +I used to try, but he was too big for us." + +Mrs. Hamon had gone in with a white face to explain things to Grannie. + +She came back presently and said briefly to Gard, "She wants you," and +he went in to the old lady. + +"You did well, Stephen Gard," she chirped. "Stand by them, for they'll +need it. He's a bad lot is Tom, and he'll make things uncomfortable when +he comes here to live. When Nancy takes her third of what's left of the +house, that'll be only two rooms, so you'll have to look out for +another, and maybe you'll not find it easy to get one in Little Sark. If +you take my advice you'll try Charles Guille at Clos Bourel, or Thomas +Carre at the Plaisance Cottages by the Coupee, they're kindly folk +both. I've told Nancy to get Philip Tanquerel of Val Creux to help her +portion the lots, and it'll be no easy job, for Tom will choose the best +and get all he can." + +They were agreeably surprised to hear no more of Tom, but learned before +long that, on the strength of his unexpected good fortune, he had gone +over to Guernsey to pass, in ways that most appealed to him, the six +weeks allowed by the law for the settlement of his father's affairs. + +Within that six weeks Philip Tanquerel of Val Creux had, on Mrs. Hamon's +behalf, to allot all old Tom's estate, house, fields, cattle, +implements, furniture, into three as equal portions as he could contrive +with his most careful balancing of pros and cons. For, with Solomon-like +wisdom, Sark law entails upon the widow the apportionment of the three +lots into which everything is divided, but allows the heir first choice +of any two of them, the remaining lot becoming the widow's dower. + +No light undertaking, therefore, the apportionment of those lots, or the +widow may be left with only bedrooms to live in, and an ill proportion +of grazing ground for her cattle and herself to live upon. For, be sure +that when it comes to the picking of these lots, even the best of sons +will pick the plums, and when such an one as Tom Hamon is in question it +is as well to mingle the plums and the sloes with an exactitude of +proportionment that will allow of no advantage either way. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +HOW GARD DREW NEARER TO HIS HEART'S DESIRE + + +Gard's isolation was brought home to him when he endeavoured to find +another lodging in Little Sark. + +Accommodation was, of course, limited. Many of the miners had to tramp +in each day from Sark. There was still, in spite of all his tact and +efforts, somewhat of a feeling against him as a new-comer, an innovator, +a tightener of loose cords, and no one offered to change quarters to +oblige him. And so, in the end, he took Grannie's advice and found a +room in one of the thatch-roofed cottages which offered their +white-washed shoulders to the road just where it rose out of the further +side of the Coupee into Sark. + +They were quiet, farmer-fisher folk who lived there, having nothing to +do with the mines and little beyond a general interest in them. + +When not at work, he was thrown much upon himself, and if in his rambles +he chanced upon Bernel Hamon it was a treat, and if, as happened all too +seldom, upon Nance as well, an enjoyment beyond words. + +But Nance was a busy maid, with hens and chickens, and cows and calves, +and pigs and piglets claiming her constant attention, and it was only +now and again that she could so arrange her duties as to allow of a +flight with Bernel--a flight which always took the way to the sea and +developed presently into a bathing revel wherein she flung cares and +clothes to the winds, or into a fishing excursion, in which pleasure and +profit and somewhat of pain were evenly mixed. + +For, though she loved the sea and ate fresh-caught fish with as much +gusto as any, she hated seeing them caught--almost as much as she hated +having her fowls or piglets slaughtered for eating purposes, and never +would touch them--a delicacy of feeling at which Bernel openly scoffed +but could not laugh her out of. + +She had sentiments also regarding the rabbits Bernel shot on the cliffs, +but being wild, and she herself having had no hand in their upbringing +and not having known them intimately, she accepted them as natural +provision, though not without compunctions at times concerning possible +families of orphans left totally unprovided for. + +When she did permit herself a few hours off duty she did it with a +whole-hearted enjoyment--approaching the naive abandon of +childhood--which, to Gard's sober restraint, when he was graciously +permitted to witness it, was wholly charming. + +By degrees, and especially after her father's tragic death, Nance's +feelings towards the stranger had perceptibly changed. + +He might be an alien, an Englishman; but he was at all events a +Cornishman, and she had heard say that the men of Cornwall and of the +Islands and of the Bretagne had much in common, just as their rugged +coasts had. And England, after all, was allied to the Islands, belonged +to them in fact, and was indeed quite as essential a part of the Queen's +dominions as the Islands themselves, and to harbour unfriendly feeling +towards your own relations--unless indeed, as in the case of Tom, they +had given you ample cause--would be surely the mark of a small and +narrow mind. + +And he might be a miner; and mines, and most miners, were naturally +hateful to her. But he had been a sailor, and was miner only by accident +as it were, and she knew that he loved the sea. Allowance, she supposed, +must be made for men getting twists in their brains--like her father. He +had gone crazy over these mines though he had been sensible enough in +other matters. + +What her careful, surreptitious observation of him, from the depths and +round the wings of her sun-bonnet, told her was that he was an upright +man, and true, and bold, with a spirit which he kept well in hand but +which could blaze like lightning on occasion, and a strength which he +could turn to excellent purpose when the need arose. + +And--and--she admitted it shyly to herself and not without wonder, and +found herself dwelling upon it as she sang softly to the ping-pang of +the milk into the pail, or the swoosh of it in the churn--he thought of +her, Nance Hamon--perhaps he even admired her a little--any way he was +certainly interested in her, and in his shy reserved way he showed a +desire for her company which she no longer found pleasure in defeating +as she had done at first. + +Undoubtedly an odd feeling, this, of being cared for by an outside +man--- but withal tending to increase of self-esteem and therefore not +unpleasing. + +Peter Mauger, indeed--but then she had never looked upon Peter as +anything but Peter, and the shadow of Tom had always obscured him to +her. Stephen Gard was a man, and a different kind of a man from Peter +altogether. + +She remembered, with a slight reddening still of the warm brown cheeks +whenever she thought of it--how, on the previous Sunday afternoon, she +and Bernel had gone running over the downs through the waist-high +bracken towards Breniere, the tide in their favourite pool below the +rocks being too high for bathing. And on the slope above the Cromlech +they had come suddenly on Gard, lying there looking out over the sea +towards L'Etat. + +He had jumped up at sight of them and stood hesitating a moment. + +"Going for a bathe?" he asked, knowing the usual course of their +proceedings. + +"Yes, we were," said Bernel. "You going?" with a glance at the towel +Gard had brought out on the chance of a dip. + +"I'd thought of it, but your tides and currents here are so +troublesome--" + +"Oh, we know all about 'em. They're all right when you know." + +"I suppose so, but--" with a look at Nance, "I'll clear out." + +"You're not coming?" + +"Your sister wouldn't like it." + +"Nance?" with a look of surprise. "She won't mind. Will you, Nance?" + +Then it was her turn to hesitate, for bathing with Bernel was one thing, +and with Mr. Gard quite another. + +"You'll show me another time, Bernel," said Gard, picking up his towel. +"I wouldn't like to spoil your fun now." + +"But you wouldn't. Would he, Nance?" + +"I don't mind--if you'll give me the cave." + +"All the caves you want," said Bernel, scornful at such unusual +stickling on the part of his chum. + +"Quite sure you don't mind?" asked Gard, doubtful still. + +"If I have the cave. It's generally the one who gets there first, and +Bern goes quicker than I do." + +"Of course. You're only a girl," laughed Bernel, as he raced on down the +slope. + +And Nance laughed too at his brotherly depreciation, and Gard, who had +never regarded her as only a girl, and whose thoughts of her were very +absorbing and uplifting, happening to catch her eye, laughed also, and +so they went down towards the sea in pleasant enough humour and the +nearest approach to good-fellowship they had yet attained. + +Nance disappeared round a corner, and the next he saw of her she was +swimming boldly out towards Breniere point, and in a moment he and +Bernel were after her. + +"Don't go past the point," jerked Bernel. + +"She's gone." + +"She's a fish and knows her way," and just then they ploughed into what +at first looked to Gard like a perfectly smooth spot amid the troubled +waters, and then he was lifted from below and flung awry and out of his +stroke, and tossed and tumbled till he felt as helpless as a dead fish. +Then a fresh coil of the bubbling tide whirled him to one side and he +was out again in the safety of the dancing waves. + +"You see?" cried Bernel. "That's what it's like," and shot into it +headlong. + +And Gard, treading water quietly at a safe distance, saw how, every +here and there, great crowns of water came surging up from below, with +such lunging force that they rose in some cases almost a foot above the +neighbouring level of the sea, and he wondered how any swimmer could +make way through them. And yet Nance had cleft them like a seal, and he +could hardly make out her brown head bobbing among the distant waves. + +"Is it safe for her?" he cried after Bernel, but the boy's only reply +was a scornful wave of the arm as he pressed on to join her. + +Gard had an ample swim, and was dressed and sitting on a rock, when they +came leisurely in, and it seemed to him that never in his life had he +seen anything half so pretty as those shining coils of chestnut hair +with the sea-drops sparkling in them, and the bright energetic face +below, browned with sun and wind, rosy-brown now with her long swim, and +beaded like her hair with pearly drops. + +As she swept along below, she gave just one quick up-glance, and then, +with completest ignorance of his presence, turned her head to Bernel and +chattered away to him with most determined nonchalance. + +She and Bernel used the long effective side-stroke almost entirely, and +the little arm that flashed in and out so tirelessly was as white as the +garment that fluttered in wavy convolutions about the lithe little body +below. + +Gard, as he watched her, felt like a discoverer of hidden treasure, +overwhelmed and intoxicated with the wonder of unexpected riches. He had +come to this wild little land of Sark after silver, and he said to +himself that he had found a pearl beyond price. + +In a minute or two they were scrambling up the slope and flung +themselves down beside him for a rest, feeling the strain of unusual +exertion now that the brace and tonic of the water was off them. + +"You are bold swimmers," said Gard. + +"She's a fish in the water," said Bernel, "and she made me swim almost +as soon as I could walk." + +"You see," said Nance, in her decisive little way, "many of our Sark men +won't learn to swim. They think it's mistrusting God. But that seems to +me foolish. Every man who goes down to the sea ought to be able to +swim--besides, it's terribly nice." + +"Yes, surely, Sark men ought to be able to swim, and they have certainly +no lack of opportunity. But it's a dangerous coast for those who don't +know it. Look at that now," and he nodded to the foaming race in front +of them, between Breniere and a gaunt rocky peak which rose like a +mountain-top out of the lonely sea. "Why, it must be running five or six +miles an hour." + +From where they sat the sea seemed perfectly calm, a level plain of +deepest blue, with pale green streaks under the rocks and dark purple +patches further out, its surface just furrowed with tiny wind-ripples, +and underneath, a long slow heave like the breathings of the spirit of +the deep. But, smooth as the blue plain seemed, wave met rock with roar +and turmoil, and between that outlying peak and the shore the waters +tore and foamed with wild white crests--tumbling green ridges that were +never two seconds the same. While all along the great black base of the +peak the white waves rushed like mighty rockets, flinging long white +arms up its ragged sides and crashing together at the end in dazzling +bursts of foam. + +"Wonderful!" said Gard. "I've lain here for hours watching it." + +"I've swum it," said Nance quietly. + +"So've I," said Bernel. + +"Never! You two? I wonder you came back alive!" + +"On the slack it's not so bad, and at half ebb." + +"And what is there to see when you get there?" + +"Oh, just rocks, and puffins and gulls. You can hardly walk without +stepping on them. Do you remember how we sat and watched the baby gulls +coming out, Nance?" + +"Yes," nodded Nance. "And you nearly got your fingers bitten off by a +puffin when you felt in its hole." + +"Ma de, yes! They do bite." + +"What do you call the rock?" asked Gard, nodding across at it. + +"L'Etat," said Nance. "Mr. Cachemaille once told me that it had most +likely at one time been joined on to Little Sark by a Coupee, just the +same as Little Sark is joined to Sark. That's the Coupee, that shelf +under water where the tide runs so fast. Some day, he said, perhaps our +Coupee will go and we'll be an island just as L'Etat is." + +"It won't be this week," said Bernel philosophically. + +"It looks like the top of a high mountain just sticking up out of the +water," said Gard, fascinated by the ceaseless rush of those monstrous +waves in an otherwise calm sea. + +"I suppose that is what it is," said Nance. "It's far worse at the other +end. You can't see it from here. No matter how smooth the sea is it +seems to tumble down over some cliff under water and then come shooting +up again, and it throws itself at the rocks and sends the spray up into +the sky." + +"I'd like to go and see it," said Gard. "But I don't think I would like +to swim. Could one get a boat?" + +"We have a boat with Nick Mollet in the bay below here," said Bernel. +"But he's generally out fishing and you're always busy." + +"I'll take a holiday some day and you shall take me over." + +Time came when they went, but it was hardly a holiday undertaking. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +HOW NANCE CAME UP THE MAIN SHAFT WITHOUT GOING DOWN IT + + +It was a few days after this that Gard had another proof of Nance's and +Bernel's fearlessness and prowess in the waters they had conquered into +friendliness. + +Bernel was a great fisherman. He could wheedle out rock-fish by the +dozen while envious miners sat about him tugging hopefully at empty +lines. + +He had gone down one afternoon to the overhanging wooden slip at Port +Gorey, and had excellent sport, until a sudden shift of the wind to the +south-west began piling the waters into the gulf on an incoming tide. +Then he drew in his lines and sat dangling his legs for a few minutes, +before gathering up his catch and going home. + +Nance saw him from the other headland and came tripping round to see how +he had fared. + +"Bern," she cried, as she came up. "Tell that man he's not safe down +there. The waves are bad there sometimes." + +"Hi, you!" cried Bernel, to a miner who had been watching his success +and had then climbed down seaward over the furrowed black ledges, hoping +to do better there. "Come back! It's not safe there." + +But the fisherman, intent on his sport, either did not, or would not, +hear him. + +"Oh, well, if you won't," said Bernel. + +And then, without warning, a wave greater than any that had gone before +it, hurled itself up the rocks and came roaring over the black ledges +into the bay, and the man was gone. + +Nance and Bernel had straightened up instantly at the sound of its +coming. + +Their eyes swept the rocks, and caught a glimpse of the dark body +tumbling with the cascade of foam into Port Gorey. + +"Oh, Bern!" cried Nance, with up-clasped hands. + +But Bernel, loosing his belt and kicking off his breeches with a glance +at the derelict, launched himself clear of the pier with a shout. And +Nance, seeing the bulk of the man, and careless of everything but Bernel +who seemed so very small compared with him, threw off her sun-bonnet and +linen jacket, loosed a button, and was gone like a white flash after the +two of them. + +Gard was in the assay office not far away. He heard the shout and ran +out just in time to see Nance go, and running to the slip he saw their +clothes lying and the meaning of it all. + +Bern had hold of the miner by the collar of his coat, and was doing his +best with one hand to tow him to the shingle at the head of the gulf, +the almost drowned one splashing wildly and doing his utmost to get hold +of and drown his rescuer. Every now and again Bernel found it necessary +to let go in order to keep out of his way. + +Nance swam steadily up and the sinking one made a frantic clutch at her. + +"Lie quiet or you shall drown," she cried. "Do you hear? Lie quiet and +you are safe! See!" and she held his right hand while Bernel took his +left and the man found himself no longer sinking, and they struck out +for the shingle. + +Others of the miners had run down with ropes, but ropes were useless in +that deep gulf. Nance and Bernel were doing the only thing possible, and +Gard saw that they were all right now that the man had ceased to +struggle. + +He picked up Bernel's things, and Nance's, with a curious feeling of +delight and a touch of shyness, her sun-bonnet, her little linen jacket, +her woollen skirt, her neat little wooden sabots, and ran swiftly with +them to the shaft at the head of the gulf. + +They would make for the adit, he thought, and so gain the shaft and come +up by the ladders, if, indeed, John Thomas was in any state to climb +ladders. + +"Bring some brandy," he shouted to one of the men, and ran on. Nance was +more to him than all the miners in Sark, and it was not brandy she would +be wanting, he knew, but her clothes. + +And, since a man needs both his hands to go down almost perpendicular +ladders, he left at the top all that she would not instantly need and +took only the little jacket and the woollen skirt. These he rolled into +a bundle as he ran, and gripped in his teeth as he began the descent, +and rejoiced all the way down in this close intimacy with her clothing. +Indeed, on one of the stages, when he stopped for a moment's breathing, +he kissed the little garments devoutly, and then laughed shamefacedly at +himself for his foolishness, and glanced round quickly lest any should +have witnessed it. + +So down, down, till he came to the level, and crept along the adit to +the shore. + +They had dragged John Thomas up on to the shingle, and he lay there +half-dead and fuller of water than was his custom. + +Nance looked up quickly at the sound of Gard's feet, and the paled-brown +of her face flushed red at sight of him, and then a grateful gleam +lighted it as he dropped her things into her hand and bent over John +Thomas, who was showing signs of life in a dazed and water-logged +fashion. + +"You did splendidly, you two," he said to Bernel. "It's a grand thing to +save a man's life, even if it's only John Thomas," for John Thomas had +found this land of free spirits too much for him, and had become a +soaker and an indifferent workman. + +"He'll be all right after a bit," he added. "I told them to send down +some brandy," at which John Thomas groaned heavily to show his +extremity. "As soon as it comes, Bernel, you help Nance up the ladders. +Then run home both of you. Your things are at the top, Bernel. And here +comes the brandy. Now, up you go! Do you think you can manage the +ladders?" he asked Nance. + +"I'll manage them," and they crept away into the darkness of the adit, +and Nance thought she had never been in such a hideous place in her +life. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +HOW GARD REFUSED AN OFFER AND MADE AN ENEMY + + +They had been most gratefully and graciously free from Tom since his +father's death, but he reappeared a day or two before the end of the six +weeks, and brought with him a wife from Guernsey--not even a Guernsey +woman, however, but a Frenchwoman from the Cotentin--black-haired, +black-eyed, good-looking, after the type that would please such an one +as Tom Hamon--somewhat over-bold of face and manner for the rest of the +family. + +Philip Tanquerel had had to bring all his sagacity to bear on his +difficult task of apportioning the lots, and Tom, who knew every inch of +the ground and all its capacities, grinned viciously now and again at +the acumen displayed in the divisions. + +The allotment of the house-room had presented difficulties. + +The great kitchen at La Closerie occupied the whole centre third of the +ground floor, the remaining thirds of the space on each side being taken +up with the rarely-used best room and three bedrooms, all pretty much of +a size, and all opening into the kitchen. Up above, under the sloping +thatch was the great solie or loft, entered from the outside through the +door-window in the gable by means of a short wooden ladder. + +Grannie's dower rights, when Tom's grandfather died, had obtained for +her the two rooms constituting one-third of the house on the south side +of the kitchen, and certain rights of use of the kitchen itself. As she +needed only one room, she had bartered off the other and her kitchen +rights to her son and his wife in exchange for food and attendance, and +the arrangement had worked excellently. + +But, on her first glimpse of young Tom's quick-eyed, bold-faced +Frenchwoman, she had vowed she would have none of her; and in the end, +as the result of some chaffering, it was arranged that Tom and his wife +should have the kitchen and all the rooms north of it, while Mrs. Hamon +and Nance and Bernel had the room next Grannie's for a kitchen, and the +great loft for bedrooms, all the necessary and duly specified +alterations to be made at Tom's expense, and Mr. Tanquerel to see them +carried out at once. Grannie's other room was to become their +sitting-room also and they were to provide for her as hitherto. By +boarding up the doors leading to the kitchen, and making a new entrance +to their own rooms, the families were therefore entirely separated, to +every one's complete satisfaction. + +The division of the furniture and kitchen utensils gave Mrs. Hamon all +she needed. Tom, of course, took as _droit d'ainesse_, before the +division, the family clock--which still bore signs of strife, and had +refused to go since that night when Gard's buffet had sent him headlong +into it; and the farm-ladders and the pilotins--the stone props on which +the haystacks were built; and in addition to his own full share, as +between himself and Nance and Bernel, he exacted from them to the +uttermost farthing the extra seventh part of the value of all they +received--an Island right, but honoured more in the breach than in the +observance, and one which, in its exercise, tended to label the +exerciser as unduly mean and grasping. + +Beyond that, everything was so fairly well balanced that Tom found +himself unable to secure all he had hoped, and so deemed himself +ill-used, and did not hesitate to express himself in his usual forcible +manner. + +To obtain some of the things he specially wanted, Tanquerel had so +arranged the lots that he must sacrifice others, and these little +matters rankled in his mind and obscured his purview. + +There was a good deal of unhappy wrangling, but in the end Mrs. Hamon +and Nance found themselves with a large cornfield, one for pasture, and +one for mixed crops, potatoes, beans and so on, besides rights of +grazing and gorse-cutting on a certain stretch of cliff common. + +They had also a pony and two cows, and two pigs and a couple of dozen +hens and a cock--quite enough to keep Nance busy; and to them also fell +an adequate share of the byres and barns, and the free use of the well. + +Tom, however, still looked upon them as interlopers, and grudged them +every stick and stone, and hoof and claw. If they had never come into +the family all would have been his. Whatever they had they had snatched +out of his mouth. + +If it had not been for Philip Tanquerel the alterations agreed on would +never have been completed. He got down the carpenter and mason from +Sark, stood over them, day by day, till the work was done, and then +referred them to Tom for payment--and a pleasant and lively time they +had in getting it. + +The conditions resulting from all this were just such as have prevailed +in hundreds of similar cases, such as are almost inevitable from the +minute divisions and sub-divisions of small properties. When ill-feeling +has prevailed beforehand it is by no means likely to be lessened by the +unavoidable friction of such a distribution. + +The open ill-feeling was, however, all on Tom's side. The others had +suffered him at closer quarters the greater part of their lives. It was +to them a mighty relief to be boarded off from him, and to feel free at +last from his unwelcome incursions. + +He never spoke to any of them, and when they passed one another on their +various farm duties a black look and a muttered curse was his only +greeting. + +By means of what fairy tales concerning himself, or his position, or +Sark, he had induced the lively-eyed Julie to marry him, we may not +know. But Mrs. Tom very soon let it be known that she considered herself +woefully misled, and quite thrown away upon such a place as Sark, and +still more so upon this _ultima thule_ of Little Sark, which she volubly +asserted was the very last place le bon Dieu had made, and the condition +in which it was left did Him little credit. + +She, at all events, showed no disinclination to chat with her +neighbours. Very much the contrary. None of them could pass within range +of her eyes and tongue without a greeting and an invitation to talk. + +"Tiens donc, Nancie, ma petite!" she would cry, at sight of Nance. "What +a hurry you are in. It is hurry and scurry and bustle from morning till +night with you over there. The hens? Let them wait, ma garche, 'twill +strengthen their legs to scratch a bit, and 'twill enlighten your mind +to hear about Guernsey and Granville. Oh the beautiful country! Mon +Dieu, if only I were back there!" + +They all--except, perhaps, Grannie--felt for her--lonely in a strange +land--and were inclined to do what they could to make her more +contented. But she desired them chiefly as listeners, and the things she +had to tell were little to their taste, and less to her credit from +their point of view, though she herself evidently looked upon them as +every-day matters, and calculated to inspire these simple island-folk +with the respect due to a woman of the greater world outside. + +Grannie's views of her grand-daughter-in-law had never altered from the +first moment she set eyes on her. + +When Mrs. Tom came in to hear herself talk, one afternoon when Tom was +away fishing, the old lady simply sat and stared at her from the depths +of her big black sun-bonnet, and never opened her lips or gave any sign +of interest or hearing. + +"Is she deaf?" asked Mrs. Tom after a while. + +"Dear me, no. Grannie hears everything," said Mrs. Hamon, with a smile +at thought of all the old lady would have to say presently. + +"Nom d'un nom, then why doesn't she speak? Is it dumb she is?" + +"Neither deaf nor dumb--nor yet a fool," rapped Grannie, so sharply that +the visitor jumped. + +And during the remainder of her visit, no matter to whom she was talking +or what she was saying, Julie's snapping black eyes would inevitably +keep working round to the depths of the big black sun-bonnet, and at +times her discourse lost point and trailed to a ragged end. + +"It's my belief that old woman next door is a witch," she said to her +husband later on. + +"She's an old devil," he said bluntly. "She'll put the evil eye on you +if you don't take care." + +"She ought to be burnt," said Mrs. Tom. + +"All the same," said Tom musingly, "she's got money, so you'd best be as +civil to her as she'll let you." + +"Mon Dieu! My flesh creeps still at the way she looked at me. She has +the evil eye without a doubt." + +And Grannie?--"Mai grand doux! What does a woman like that want here?" +said she. "A wide mouth and wanton eyes. La Closerie has never had these +before--a Frenchwoman too!"--with withering contempt. For, odd as it may +seem, among this people originally French, and still speaking a patois +based, like their laws and customs, on the old Norman, there is no term +of opprobrium more profound than "Frenchman." + +Madame Julie flatly refused to subject herself to further peril from +Grannie's keen but harmless gaze, and contented herself with such +opportunities of enlarging Nance's outlook on life as casual chats about +the farm-yard afforded, and found time heavy on her hands. + +Ennui, before long, gave place to grumbling, and that to recrimination; +and from what the others could not help hearing, through the boarded-up +doors and the floor of the loft, Tom and his wife had a cat-and-dog time +of it. + +Gard had moved over to Plaisance with great regret. But nothing else was +possible under the altered circumstances at La Closerie, so he made the +best of it. + +It was some consolation to learn that they also missed him. + +"Everything's different," grumbled Bernel, one day when they met. "Tom +and his wife quarrel so that we can hear them through the walls. And +Grannie sits by the hour without opening her mouth. And mother and Nance +are as quiet as if they were going to be sick. And I'm getting +green-mouldy. Seems as if we'd got to the end of things, and nothing was +ever going to happen again. I think I'll go to Guernsey." + +"Do you think they'd like--I mean, would they mind if I came in for a +chat now and then? It's pretty lonely up at Plaisance too." + +"Oh, they'll mind and so will I. When'll you come?" + +"I'll look in to-night as I come from the mines--if you're sure--" + +"You come and try, and if you don't like it you needn't come +again"--with a twinkle of the eye. + +Nance did not strike him as looking as though she were going to be sick, +when he went in that night, nor did her mother. + +Grannie indeed had little to say, but then she was never over-talkative, +and when Gard more than once looked at her, and wondered if she had +fallen asleep, he always found the keen old eyes wide open, and eyeing +him watchfully as ever out of the depths of the big black sun-bonnet. + +Mrs. Hamon asked about his new quarters, and his quiet shake of the head +and simple--"They're kindly folk, but it's somehow very different"--told +its own tale. + +"They're a bit short-handed, you see," he added, "and so they're all +kept busy, and at times, I'm afraid, they wish me further." + +"And you go all that way back for your dinner each day?" asked Mrs. +Hamon thoughtfully. + +"Well, I have tried taking it with me, but it's not very satisfactory." + +"What would you say to coming here for it, as you used to? I think we +could manage it, Nance. What do you say?" + +"We could manage it all right," said Nance, "if--" and then, in spite of +herself, she could not keep that telltale mouth of hers in order, and +the attempt to repress a smile only emphasized the dimples at the +corners. For Gard's face was as eager as a dog's at sight of a rat. + +"It will save me such a lot of time," he explained--at which Nance +dimpled again as she went out to feed her chickens, and left them to +complete the new arrangement. + +And if it had cost Gard every penny of his salary he would still have +rejoiced at it, and considered his bargain a good one. As it was, it +cost him no more than the trouble of rearranging his terms with the good +folks at Plaisance, and it gave a new zest and enjoyment to life since +it ensured a meeting with Nance at least once each day. + +And not with Nance only! + +Madame Julie, very weary of herself, and Tom, and her surroundings, and +Sark, and life in general as understood in Sark, very soon became +conscious of the regular visits next door of the best-looking young man +she had yet seen in the Island, and was filled with curiosity concerning +him. + +"He's after that slip of a Nance," she said to herself. "And he has his +own share of good looks, has that young man."--And then came the +inevitable, "Mon Dieu, but I wish Tom had been made like that!" + +To get a better view of him--and perhaps not without a vague idea of +ulterior interest and amusement for herself--anything to add a dash of +colour to the prevailing greyness of her surroundings--she was leaning +on the gate next day when he came striding up to his dinner, and gave +him, "Bon jour, m'sieur!" with much heartiness and the full benefit of +her black eyes and white teeth. + +"'Jour, madame!" and he whipped off his hat and passed on into the +house. + +"That was Madame Tom, I suppose, who was leaning over the gate, as I +came in," he said, as they ate. + +"I expect so," said Mrs. Hamon. "She generally seems to have time on her +hands." + +"When Tom's not there," snapped Grannie. "Got her hands full enough when +he is." + +"I should imagine Tom would not be too easy to get on with at times. +Maybe he'll settle down now he's married." + +"Doesn't sound like settling down sometimes," chirped the old lady +again. + +"Oh? I'm sorry to hear that. She doesn't look bad-tempered." + +"Tom's got more'n enough for the two of them." + +"I'm afraid she finds it a change from what she's been accustomed to," +said Mrs. Hamon quietly. "She came in once or twice, but her talk is of +things that don't interest us, and ours is of things that don't interest +her, so we can't get as friendly as we would like to be." + +"And Tom?" + +"Tom considers us all robbers, as he always has done. He gives us his +blackest face whenever he sees any of us." + +"That's unpleasant, seeing you're such close neighbours." + +"Yes, it's unpleasant, but we can't help it. It's just Tom. How is your +work getting on?" + +"Not as I would wish," said Gard, with a gloomy wag of the head. "Your +Sark men are difficult--very difficult, and the others who ought to know +better, and who do know better"--with more than a touch of warmth--"go +on as though I was a slave-driver." + +"Sark men are hard to drive," said Mrs. Hamon sympathetically. + +"They know perfectly well that I want only what is just and right to the +shareholders. They expect their pay to the last penny, but when I insist +on a proper return for it they look at me as if they'd like to knock me +on the head. It's disheartening work. I've been tempted at times to +throw it all up and go back to England"--at which Nance's heart gave so +unusual a little kick that she had difficulty in frowning it into +quietude, and just then Bernel came in with his gun and a couple of +rabbits. + +"Who's going to England?" he asked. "I'll go too." + +"No you won't," said Nance sharply. "We want you here." + +"It's as dull as Beauregard pond and as dirty, since the m--aw--um!" +with a deprecatory glance at Gard. + +"You'd find most busy places just as dirty," said Gard. + +"Then I'll go to sea. That's clean at all events." + +"Let's hope things will brighten a bit. You wouldn't find the fo'c'sle +of a trader as comfortable as La Closerie, my boy,"--and they fell to on +their dinner and left the matter there. + +"Dites-donc, Nannon, ma petite," said Mrs. Tom to Nance, a day or two +later, "who is the joli gars who comes each day to see you?" + +"Mr. Gard from the mines comes up here to get his dinner, if that's what +you mean." + +"Oh--ho! He comes for his dinner, does he? And is that all he comes for, +little Miss Modesty?" + +"That's all," said Nance solemnly. + +"Oh yes, without a doubt, that's all. I think I'll ask him next time I +see him. Why doesn't he go home for his dinner like other people?" + +"He's living at Plaisance now and it's far to go. He used to live here, +you know." + +"Ma foi, no, I didn't know. He used to live here? And why did he go to +Plaisance then?" + +"We hadn't room for him, you see." + +"But, Mon Dieu, we have room and to spare! There are those two bedrooms +empty. Why shouldn't he--" + +But Nance shook her head at that. + +"Why then?" demanded Mrs. Tom, with visions of some one besides Tom to +talk to of an evening--a good-looking, sensible one too. "Why?" + +"He and Tom don't get on well together--" + +"Pardi, I'm not surprised at that. It would need an angel out of heaven +to get on with him sometimes. What induced me ever to marry such a +grumbler I don't know. I wonder if Monsieur What-is-it?--Gard--would +come back if I could arrange it?" + +But Nance shook her head again. + +"Ah--ha, ma garche, and you would sooner he did not--is it not so?" + +"I'm quite sure he and Tom would never get on together, and I don't +think Mr. Gard would come." + +"It's worth trying, however. He would be some one to talk to of an +evening any way." + +And so, when Tom came in that evening, she tackled him on the subject. + +"Say then, mon beau,"--and as she said it she could not but contrast his +slouching bulk with the straight, well-knit figure of the other--"why +should we not take in a lodger as all the rest do? Our two rooms there +are empty and--" + +"Who's the lodger?" + +"There is one comes up every day to dinner next door, and would stop +there altogether if they had the room. Tiens, what's this his name is? +He's from the mines--" + +"You mean Gard--the manager," scowled Tom. + +"That's it--Monsieur Gard. Why shouldn't he--" + +"Because I'd break his head if I got the chance, and he knows it. Comes +up there to dinner, does he? How long's he been doing that?" + +"For a week now. Couldn't you get over your bad feeling? It would be +money in our pockets." + +"No, I couldn't, and he wouldn't come if you asked him." + +"Will you let me try?" + +"I tell you he won't come." + +"In that case there's no harm in trying. If I can persuade him, will you +promise to be civil to him, and not try to break his head?" + +"He won't come, I tell you." + +"And I say he may." + +"And you'll nag and nag till you get your own way, I suppose." + +"Of course. What's the use of a woman's tongue if she can't get her own +way with it? Will you promise to behave properly if he comes?" + +"I'll behave if he behaves," he growled sulkily. "But we'll neither of +us get the chance. He won't come." + +"Eh bien, we'll see!" + +And when Gard came up to dinner next day, she was leaning over the gate +waiting for him, very tastefully dressed according to her lights, and +with an engaging smile on her face. + +"Dites donc, Monsieur Gard," she said pleasantly. "Our little Nannon was +telling me you regretted having to live so far away. Why should you not +come back and occupy your old room? It is lying empty there, and I would +do my very best to make you comfortable, and you would be close to your +friends all the time then, instead of having to go across that frightful +Coupee." + +"It is very kind of you, madame," and he stared back at her in much +surprise, and found himself wondering what on earth had made her marry +such a man as Tom Hamon. For she was undeniably good-looking and had all +a Frenchwoman's knack of making the very best of all she had--abundant +black hair, very neatly twisted up at the back of her head; white teeth +and full red lips; straight, well-developed figure very neatly dressed; +and large black eyes which looked capable of so many things, that they +found it difficult to settle for any length of time to any one +expression. + +"It is very kind of you, madame," said Gard, "but--" and he stood +looking at her and hesitating how to put it. + +"You mean about Tom," she laughed. "But that is all past. I have spoken +to him, and he promises to behave himself quite properly if you will +come. Voila!" + +Just for a moment the possibilities of the suggestion caught his mind. +He would be near Nance all the time. He would be saved much tiresome +walking to and fro. Especially he would be saved that passage of the +Coupee, which at night, even with a lantern, was not a thing one easily +got accustomed to, and on stormy nights was enough to make one's hair +fly. Then this woman was very different from his present landlady, and +would probably, he thought, have different notions of comfort. + +The quick black eyes caught something of what was in him: and he, as +suddenly, caught something of what lurked, consciously or unconsciously, +in them, and a little tremor of repugnance shook his heart and braced +him back to reason. + +He shook his head. "It would not do, madame. He and I would never get on +together, no matter how hard we tried. I thank you for the offer all the +same," and he made as though to pass her. + +"I wish you would come," she said, and laid a pleading hand on his arm. +"I'm sure he would try to behave. I can generally manage him except when +he's been drinking. Then I'm afraid of him, and wish some one else was +at hand. But that's only when he's been out all night at the fishing, +and it's soon over and done with. Do come, monsieur!"--It was almost a +whisper now, and she leaned towards him--the rich dark face--the great +solicitous eyes. + +But she had mistaken her man. Perhaps she had not met many like him. + +He shook off her hand almost brusquely. + +"It is impossible, madame. I could not," and he pushed past just as +Nance came to the door. + +She had seen him coming, heard their voices outside, and wondered what +was keeping him. + +She turned back into the house when she saw Julie, wondering still more. +For Gard's face was disturbed, and had in it something of the look she +had seen more than once when he had faced Tom in his tantrums. + +And, glancing past him, she had seen what he had not--Julie's face when +he turned his back on her. + +"Mon Gyu!" gasped Nance to herself, and went in wondering. + +"She and Tom wanted me to take my old room again, and I refused," was +all he said. + +"Tom wanted you to go there?" said Mrs. Hamon in amazement. + +"So she said." + +Grannie's disparaging sniff was charged with libel. + + * * * * * + +"Well?" asked Tom of his wife, when he came in later on with Peter +Mauger, who had come over for supper. "Got your lodger?" + +"No." + +"That's what I told you," with a provocative laugh. + +"Oh, he'd have come quick enough." + +"Would, would he? Then why didn't he?" + +"I wouldn't trust myself alone in the house with that man." + +"Ah!" said Tom, staring at her. "Always thought he was a bad lot myself, +didn't I, Peter?" + +Peter nodded. + +"It's a wonder to me that Mrs. Hamon lets him run after that girl of +hers as she does," said Julie. + +"If I catch him up to any of his tricks I'll break his head for him." + +"Maybe it would be a good thing for little Nance if you did." + +"Knew he was a toad as soon as I set eyes on him, so did Peter. Didn't +you, Peter?" + +Peter nodded. + +"What d'he say to you?" demanded Tom. + +"Didn't say much. Asked if you were much away at the fishing and that. +But the way he looked at me!--I've got the shivers down my back yet," +and a virtuous little shudder shook her and made a visible impression on +Peter. + +"Peter and me'll maybe have a word with him one of these days, won't we, +Peter?" + +"Maybe," said Peter. + +"We don't want toads like Gard running off with any of our Sark girls, +do we, Peter?" + +"No," said Peter. + +"Mr. Gard had better look out for himself or take himself off before +somebody does it for him. There's plenty wouldn't mind giving him a +crack on the head and slipping him over the Coupee some dark night." + +As to such extreme measures Peter offered no opinion. He looked vaguely +round the big kitchen as though in search of something that used to be +there, and said-- + +"How about supper?" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +HOW THEY WENT THROUGH THE DARKNESS OF THE NARROW WAY + + +One dark night Gard sauntered down the cutting towards the Coupee, +enjoying a last pipe before turning in. + +This had become something of a habit with him. The people of Plaisance, +hard at work all day in the fields, went early to bed and left him to +follow when he pleased. And to stand securely in that deep cleft, just +where the protecting walls broke off short and left the narrow path to +waver on into the darkness, was always fascinating to him. + +When the moon flooded the gulf on the left with shimmering silver, and +the waves broke along the black rocks below in crisp white foam like +silver frost, he would stand by the hour there and never tire of it. + +The moon cast such a mystic glamour over those great voids of darkness +and over the headlands, melting softly away, fold behind fold, on the +right, while Little Sark became a mystery land into which the white path +rambled enticingly and invited one to follow. + +And to him, as his eyes followed it till it disappeared over the crown +of the ridge, it was more than a mystery land--a land of promise, rich +in La Closerie and Nance. + +Always within him, as he watched, was the feeling that if the sweet +slim figure should come tripping down the moonlit path towards him, he +would be in no way astonished. When he stood there, watching, it seemed +to him that it would be entirely fitting for her to come so, in the calm +soft light that was as pure and sweet as herself. + +And at times his eye would light on the grim black pile of L'Etat, lying +out there in the silvery shimmer like some great monumental cairn, a +rough and rugged heap of loneliness and mystery--the grimmer and +lonelier by reason of the twinkling brightness of its setting. And then +his thoughts would play about the lonely pile, and come back with a +sense of homely relief to the fairy path which Nance's little feet had +trod, in light and dark, and storm and shine, since ever she could walk. + +He pictured her as a tiny girl running fearlessly across the grim +pathway to school, dancing in the sunshine, bending to the storm, and +all alone when she had been kept in--he wondered with a smile what she +had been kept in for. + +He thought of her, as he had seen her, walking to church, her usually +blithe spirit tuned to sedateness by the very fact, and, to him, +delightfully stiffened by the further fact that she, almost alone among +her friends and school-fellows, wore Island costume, while all the rest +flaunted it in all the colours of the rainbow. And he laughed happily to +himself, for very joy, at thought of the sweet elusive face in the +shadow of the great sun-bonnet. There was not a face in all Sark to +compare with it, nor, for him, in all the world. + +But this night, as be stood there pulling slowly at his pipe and +thinking of Nance, was one of the black nights. + +Later on there would be a remnant of a moon, but as yet the sky above +was an ebon vault without a star, and the gulfs at his feet were pits of +darkness out of which rose the voices of the sea in solemn rhythmic +cadence. + +Down in Grande Greve, on his right, the waves rolled in almost without a +sound, as though they feared to disturb the darkness. From the +intervening moments he could tell how slowly they crept to their curve. +Their fall was a soft sibilation, a long-drawn sigh. The ever-restless +sea for once seemed falling to sleep. + +And then, as he listened into the darkness, a tiny elfish glimmer +flickered in the void below, flickered and was gone, and he rubbed his +eyes for playing him tricks. But the next wave broke slowly round the +wide curve of the bay in a crescent of lambent flame, and a flood of +soft, blue-green fire ran swelling up the beach and then with a sigh +drew slowly back, and all was dark again. Again and again--each wave was +a miracle of mystic beauty, and he stood there entranced long after his +pipe had gone dead. + +And as he stood gazing down at the wonder of it, his ear caught the +sound of quick light footsteps coming towards him across the Coupee, and +he marvelled at the intrepidity of this late traveller. If he had had to +go across there that night, he would have gone step by step, with +caution and a lantern; whereas here was no hesitation, but haste and +assurance. + +It was only when she had passed the last bastion, and was almost upon +him, that he made out that it was a girl. + +His heart gave a jump. She had been so much in his thought. Yet, even +so, it was almost at a venture that he said-- + +"Nance?" + +And yet, again, he had learned to recognize her footsteps at the farm, +and where the heart is given the senses are subtly acute, and she had +slackened her pace somewhat as she drew near. + +"Yes; I am going to the doctor." + +"Why--who--?" + +"Grannie is ill--in pain. He will give me something to ease her." He had +turned and was walking by her side. + +"I am sorry. You will let me go with you?" + +"There is no need at all--" + +"No need, I know; but all the same it would be a pleasure to me to see +you safely there and back." + +She hurried on without speaking. If there had been any light, and he had +dared to peep inside the black sun-bonnet, he might perhaps have found +the hint of a smile overlaying her anxiety on Grannie's account. + +By the ampler feel of things, and the easing of the slope, he knew they +were out of the cutting, and presently they were passing Plaisance. + +"If you would sooner I did not walk with you, I will fall behind; but I +couldn't stop here and think of you going on alone," he said. + +"That would be foolishness," she said gently. "But there is really no +need. I have no fears of ghosts or anything like that." + +"There might be other kinds of spirits about," he said quietly. "And +when men drink as some of my fellows do, they are no respecters of +persons. But this is surely very sudden. Your grandmother seemed all +right at dinner-time." + +"She had bad pains in the afternoon, and they have been getting worse. +She did not want to have the doctor, but the things she took did her no +good, and mother said I had better go and ask him for something more." + +"And where is Bernel?" + +"He went to the fishing with Billy Mollet, and he was not back." + +"And suppose the doctor is not in?" + +"They will know where he is, and I will go after him." + +"Did you see those wonderful waves of fire as you came across the +Coupee?" + +"I have seen them often. When there is more sea on, and it breaks on the +rocks, it is finer still. It is something in the water, Mr. Cachemaille +told me." + +"I heard your footsteps down there on the Coupee, but I couldn't see a +sign of you till you were almost against me." + +"I saw from the other side that some one was there, but I could not see +who." + +"You have most wonderful eyes in Sark." + +"It is never quite dark to me on the darkest night. I suppose it is with +being used to it." + +"You'll have to help me across the Coupee." + +"And how will you get back?" + +"The moon will be up, and then I can see all right. I don't need much +light, but I've not been brought up to see through solid black." + +The doctor was fortunately in, and knew by ample experience what would +ease Grannie's pains. So presently they were hurrying back along the +dark road. + +As they turned the corner by Vauroque an open doer cast a great shaft +of light across the darkness, and there, just as on a previous occasion, +on the wall lounged half-a-dozen men, and among them was Tom Hamon, who +had come up to have a drink with his friend Peter. + +At sight of him, Nance bent her head and tried to shrink into herself as +she hurried past. + +But Tom had seen her, and the sight of her alone with Gard at that time +of night roused the virtuous indignation, and other more potent spirits, +within him. + +He sprang down into the road, shouting what sounded like a spate of +curses in the patois. + +Gard stopped and turned, with a keen recollection of the same thing +having happened before. He remembered too how that occasion ended. + +But Nance laid an entreating hand on his arm. + +"Please--don't!" + +Her voice sounded a little strange to him. If he had been able to see +her face now he would have found it pallid, in spite of its usual +healthy brown bloom. + +She stood entreatingly till he turned and went on with her. + +"He is evidently aching for another thrashing," he said grimly, as he +stalked beside her. + +And presently they were in the cutting, and the unnerving vastness of +the gulfs opened out on either side. Gard felt like a blindfolded man +stumbling along a plank. + +He involuntarily put out a groping hand and took hold of her cloak. A +little hand slipped out of the cloak and took his in charge, and so they +went through the darkness of the narrow way. + +He breathed more freely when the further slope was reached, and only +then became aware that the hand that held his was all of a tremble. The +next moment he perceived that she was sobbing quietly. + +"Nance!" he cried. "What is it? You are crying. Is it anything I--" + +"No, no, no!" sobbed the wounded soul convulsively. + +"What then? Tell me!" + +"I cannot. I cannot." + +"Nance--dear!" and he sought her hand again and stood holding it firmly. +"It is like stabs in my heart to hear you sobbing. I would give my life +to save you from trouble. Do you believe me, dear?" + +"Yes, yes--" + +"And you can trust me, dear, can you not? You distrusted me at first, I +know, but--" + +"Oh, I do trust you, and I know you are good. And it is that that makes +it so wicked of him to say such things about us--" + +In her excitement she had let slip more than she intended. She stopped +abruptly. + +"Tom?" + +She did not speak, but the wound welled open in another sob. + +"Don't trouble about him, dear! I don't know what he said, but if it was +meant to make you doubt me, it was not true. You are more to me than +anything in the world, Nance, and I have never loved any other +woman--except my mother. Do you believe me?" + +"Yes--oh, yes! I cannot help believing you. Oh, I wish sometimes that +Tom was dead. When I was very little I used to pray each night to God to +kill him." + +"I'll teach him to leave you alone." + +"I must go now. Grannie is waiting for her medicine." + +He took the little hand under his arm and pressed it close to his side, +and they pushed on down the dark lanes till they came in sight of the +lights of La Closerie. + +Then he bent into the sun-bonnet and sealed his capture of the virginal +fortress by a passionate kiss on the tremulous little lips. And she, +with the frankness of a child, reached up and kissed him warmly back. + +"Good-night, dear, and God bless you!" he said fervently. + +"Can you find your way in the dark?" + +"There is the moon. I shall be all right." + +She bent her head and ran on towards the lights. He watched her go in at +the door, and turned and went back along the lane, and his heart was +high with the joy that was in him. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +HOW TWO FELL OUT + + +It was but a thin strip of a moon that had risen above the evening +mists--a mere sickle of red gold--but such as it was it sufficed to lift +the pall of darkness from the earth and set the black sky back into its +proper place. + +To Gard the night had suddenly become spacious and ample, and the +peaceful slip of a moon, which grew paler and brighter every minute, was +full of promise. + +He was so full of Nance that he had almost forgotten Tom and his +scurrilous insolences. + +He crossed the Coupee without any difficulty, enjoyed over again the +recollection of that last crossing, and stood in the cutting on the Sark +side for a moment to marvel at the change an hour had made in his +outlook on things in general. + +Tom? Why, he could almost forgive Tom, for it was he who had helped to +bring matters to a head--unconsciously, indeed, and probably quite +against his wish. Still, he had been the instrument--the drop of acid in +the solution which had crystallized their love into set form and made it +visible, and fixed it for life. + +Truly, he was half inclined to consider himself under obligation to +Tom--if only his boorishness could be kept in check for the future. For, +of a certainty, he was not going to allow Nance to be made miserable by +his loutish insolences. + +He had climbed the cutting and was on the level, when he heard heavy +footsteps coming towards him, and the next moment he was face to face +with the object of his thoughts. + +Possibly Tom had expected to meet him and had been preparing for the +fray, for he opened at once with a volley of patois which to Gard was so +much blank cartridge. + +"Oh--ho, le velas--corrupteur! Amuseur! Seducteur! Ou quais noutre +fille? Quais qu'on avait fait d'elle d'on?" + +"Quite finished?" asked Gard quietly, as the other came to a stop for +want of breath. "Say it all over again in English, and I'll know what +you're talking about." + +"English be----!" he broke out afresh, in a turgid mixture of tongues. +"Seducteur, amuseur! Where's our Nance? Gaderabotin, what have you done +with the girl? I know you, corrupteur! Running after men's wives--and +our Nance, too! See then--you touch la garche and I'll--" + +"See here! We've had enough of this," said Gard, gripping him by the +shoulders and shaking him. "If you weren't drunk I'd thrash you within +an inch of your life, you brute. Come back when you're sober, and I'll +give you a lesson in manners." + +Tom had been struggling to get his arms up. At last he wrenched himself +free and came on like a bull. One of his flailing fists caught Gard +across the face, flattening his nose and filling one eye with stars; the +other hand, trying to grip his opponent, ripped open his coat, tearing +away both button and cloth. + +"You lout!" cried Gard, his blood up and dripping also from his nose. +"If you must have it, you shall;" and he squared up to him to administer +righteous punishment. + +And then the futility of it came upon him. The man was three-parts +drunk, in no condition for a fight, scarce able to attempt even to +defend himself. + +No punishment of Tom drunk would have the slightest moral effect on Tom +sober. He would remember nothing about it in the morning, except that he +had been knocked about. + +When he received his next lesson in deportment it was Gard's earnest +desire and hope that it might prove a lasting and final one. + +So he decided to postpone it, and contented himself with warding and +dodging his furious lunges and rushes, and gave him no blow in return. +Until, at last, after one or two heavy falls of his own occasioning, Tom +gave it up, spluttered a final commination on his opponent, and turned +to go home. + +He went blunderingly down into the hollow way, and Gard stood watching +him in doubt. + +It seemed hardly possible he could cross the Coupee in that state, and +he felt a sort of moral responsibility towards him. Much as he detested +him, he had no wish to see him go reeling over into Coupee bay. + +So he set off after him to see him safely across, and Tom, hearing him +coming, groped in the crumbling side wall till he found a rock of size, +and sent it hurling up the path with another curse. + +Then he blundered on, and Gard followed. And Tom stopped again by one of +the pinnacles and sought another rock, and flung it, and it dropped +slowly from point to point till it landed on the shingle three hundred +feet below. + +He stood there in the dim light, cursing volubly in patois and shaking +his fist at Gard; but at last, to Gard's great relief, he humped his +back and stumbled away up the cutting on the further side. + +And Gard, very sick of it all, and with an aching head and a very tender +nose, but withal with a warm glow at the heart which no aches or pains +could damp down, turned and went home to bed. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +HOW ONE FELL OVER + + +Gard's first waking thoughts next morning were of Nance entirely. + +He would see her at dinner-time. How would he find her? Last night the +disturbance of her feelings had shaken her out of herself somewhat, and +shown her to him in new and delightful lights. + +If, this morning, she should be to some extent withdrawn again into her +natural modest shell, he would not be surprised; and he made up his +mind, then and there, to be in no wise disappointed. Last night was a +fact, a delightful fact, on which to build the rosy future. + +It was a long time to wait till dinner-time to see her. What if he went +round that way, before going to work, just to inquire if Tom got home +all right. + +And then the feeling of discomfort in his eye and nose, as though the +one had shrunk to the size of a pin-point and the other had grown to the +bulk of a turnip--brought back the whole matter, and on further +consideration he decided not to go to the farm till the proper time. If +he came across Tom, the fray would inevitably be resumed at once, and +his right eye, at the moment, showed a decided disinclination to open to +its usual extent, or to perform any of the functions properly demanded +of a right eye contemplating battle. + +He must get up at once and bathe it and bring it to reason. + +Raw beef, he believed, was the correct treatment under the +circumstances. But raw beef was almost as obtainable as raw moon, and +even raw mutton he did not know where he could procure, nor whether it +would answer the purpose. + +So he bathed his bruises with much water, and reduced their excesses to +some extent, but not enough to escape the eye of his hostess when he +appeared at breakfast. + +"Bin fighting?" she queried dispassionately. + +"A one-sided fight. Tom Hamon was drunk last night and hit me in the +face, but he was not in a condition to fight or I'd have taught him +better manners." + +"He's a rough piece," with a disparaging shake of the head. "It'd take a +lot to knock him into shape. Try this," and she delved among her stores, +and found him an ointment of her own compounding which took some of the +soreness out of his bruises. + +But black eyes and swollen noses are impertinently obtrusive and +disdainful of disguise, and the captain's battle-flags provoked no +little jocosity among his men that morning. + +"Run up against su'then, cap'n?" asked John Hamon the engineer, who was +one of the few who sided with him. + +"Yes, against a drunken fist in the dark. When it's sober I'm going to +give it a lesson in manners." + +"Drunken fisses is hard to teach. You'll have your hands full, cap'n." + +It seemed an unusually long morning, but dinner-time came at last and he +hastened across to the farm, eager for the first sight of the sweet shy +face hiding in the big sun-bonnet. + +Quite contrary to his expectations Nance came hurrying to meet him. She +had evidently been on the watch for him. Still more to his surprise, her +face, instead of that look of shy reserve which he had been prepared +for, was full of anxious questioning. The large dark eyes were full of +something he had never seen in them before. + +"Why--Nance--dear! What is the matter?" he asked quickly. + +"Did you meet Tom again last night? Oh," at nearer sight of his bruised +face, "you did, you did!" + +"Yes, dear, I did. Or rather he met me--as you see." + +"Did you fight with him?" she panted. + +"He was too drunk to fight. He ran at me and gave me this, and my first +inclination was to give him a sound thrashing. Then I saw it would be no +good, in the condition he was in, so I just kept him at arm's length +till he tired of it. He went off at last, and I was so afraid he might +tumble off the Coupee that I followed him, and he hurled rocks at me +whenever he came to a stand. But he got across all right, and I went +back and went to bed. Now, what's all the trouble about?" + +"He never came home," she jerked, with a catch in her voice which +thought only of Tom had never put there. + +"Never came home?" + +"And they're all out looking for him." + +"I wonder if he went back to Peter Mauger's.... If he tried to cross +that Coupee again--in the condition he was in--" + +"He didn't go back to Peter's. Julie went there first of all to ask." + +"Good Lord, what can have become of him?" + +The answer came unexpectedly round the corner of the house--Julie +Hamon, in a state of utmost dishevelment and agitation, which turned +instantly to venomous fury at the sight of Gard and Nance. + +Her black hair seemed all a-bristle. Her black eyes flamed. Her dark +face worked like a quicksand. Her skirts were wet to the waist. Her +jacket was open at the top, as though she had wrenched at it in a fit of +choking. Her strong bare throat throbbed convulsively. Her hands, half +closed at her side, looked as though they wanted something to claw. + +"Did you do it?" she cried hoarsely, stalking up to Gard. + +"Do what?" + +"Kill him." + +"Tom?... You don't mean to say--" + +"You ought to know. He's there in the school-house, broken to a jelly +and his head staved in. And they say it's you he fought with last night. +The marks of it are on your face"--her voice rose to a scream--"Murderer! +Murderer! Murderer!" + +"You wicked--thing!" cried Nance, pale to the lips. + +"You--you--you!" foamed Julie. "You're as bad as he is. Because my man +tried to save you from that--murderer--" + +"Oh, you--wicked!--You're crazy," cried Nance, rushing at her as though +to make an end of her. + +And Julie, mad with the strain of the night's anxieties and their abrupt +and terrible ending, uncurled her claws and struck at her with a +snarl--tore off her sun-bonnet, and would have ripped up her face, if +Gard had not flung his arms round her from the back and dragged her +screaming and kicking towards her own door. + +Mrs. Hamon had come running out at sound of the fray. Gard whirled the +mad woman into her own house and Mrs. Hamon followed her and closed the +door. + +Gard turned to look for Nance. + +She was nervously trying to tie on her sun-bonnet by one string. + +"Nance, dear," he said, "you don't believe I had anything to do with +this?" + +"Oh no, no! I'm sure you hadn't. But--" + +"But?" he asked, looking down into the pale face and bright anxious +eyes. + +"Oh, they may say you did it. They will think it. They are sure to think +it, and they are so--" + +"Don't trouble about it, dear. I know no more about it than you do, and +they cannot get beyond that. Promise me you won't let it trouble you." + +"Oh, I will try. But--" + +"Have no fears on my account, Nance. I will go at once and tell them all +I know about it." + +He pressed her hands reassuringly, and she went into the house with +downcast head and a face full of forebodings, and he set off at once for +Sark. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +HOW TOM WENT TO SCHOOL FOR THE LAST TIME + + +Mrs. Tom had had a troubled night. Anxiety at her husband's continued +absence had in due time given way to anger, and anger in its turn to +anxiety again. + +In a state of mind compounded of these wearing emotions, she had set out +in the early morning to find out what had become of him; if he was +sleeping off a drunken debauch at Peter Mauger's, to give them both a +vigorous piece of her mind; if he was not there, to find out where he +was; in any case to vent on some one the pent-up feelings of the night. + +Vigorous hammering on Peter Mauger's door produced first his old +housekeeper, and presently himself, heavy-eyed, dull-witted, and in +flagrant dishabille, since Mrs. Guille had but a moment ago shaken him +out of the sleep of those who drink not wisely over-night, with the +information that a crazy woman wanted him at the door. + +"Where's Tom?" demanded Julie, ready to empty the vials of her wrath on +the delinquent as soon as he was produced. + +But Peter's manner at once dissipated that expectation. + +"Tom?" he said vaguely, and gazed at her with a bovine stupidity that +jarred her strained nerves like a blow. + +"Yes, Tom--my husband, fool! Where is he?" she asked sharply. + +"Where is he?" scratching his tousled head to quicken his wits. "I d'n +know." + +"You don't know? What did you do with him last night, you drunken +fool?"--by this time the neighbours had come out to learn the news. + +Peter gaped at her in astonishment, his muddled wits and aching head +beginning dimly to realize that something was wrong. + +"Tom left here ... last night ... t'go home," he nodded emphatically. + +"Well, he never got home," snapped Julie. "And you'd best get your +clothes on and help me find him. You were both as drunk as pigs, I +suppose. If he's lying dead in a ditch it's you that'll have the blame." + +"Aw now, Julie!" + +"Don't Julie me, you fool! Get dressed and do something." + +"I'll come. You wait," and he went inside, and put his head into a basin +of water, and threw on his clothes, and came out presently looking +anxious and disturbed now that his sluggish brain had begun to work. + +"Where you been looking?" he asked. + +"Nowhere. I expected to find him here." + +"We had a glass or two and then he started off home. He could walk all +right.... Did you.... You didn't see anything wrong ... anything ... at +the Coupee?" he asked, with a quick anxious look at her. + +"No, I didn't. What do you mean? Oh, mon Dieu!" and she started down the +road at a run, with Peter lumbering after her and the neighbours in a +buzzing tail behind. + +The cold douche had cooled Peter's hot head, the running quickened his +blood and his thoughts, a sudden grim fear braced his brain to quite +unusual activity. + +As he ran he recalled the events of the night before; their meeting with +Gard and Nance; Tom's scurrilous insults. + +If Tom and Gard had met again--Gard would be sure to see Nance home. Had +he met Tom on his way back? And if so--if so--and ill had come to +Tom--why, Gard might get the blame. And--and--in short, though by +zig-zag jerks as he ran--if Gard were out of the way for good and all, +Nance's thoughts might turn to one nearer home. He would be sorry if ill +had come to Tom, of course. But if Gard could be got rid of he would be +most uncommonly glad. + +And as he panted after Julie, head down with the burden of much +thinking, just before he reached the sunk way to the Coupee, his eye +lighted on something in the road that caused him to stop and bend--a +button with a scrap of blue cloth attached. He picked it up hastily and +put it in his pocket. On a white stone just by it there were some +red-brown spots. He pushed it with his foot to the side of the road and +was down into the cutting before the heavy-footed neighbours came up. + +Julie was ranging up and down the narrow pathway, searching the depths +with a face like a hawk, hanging on to the rough sides of the pinnacles, +and bending over in a way that elicited warning cries from the others as +they came streaming down. + +But keenest search of the western slope revealed nothing amid its tangle +of gorse and blackberry bushes, and the eastern cliff fell so sheer, and +had so many projecting lumps and underfalls, that it was impossible to +see close in to the foot. + +And then one, nimbler witted than the rest, climbed out along the common +above the northern cliff, whereby, when he had come to the great slope, +he took the Coupee cliff in flank, and could spy along its base. + +And suddenly he stopped, and stiffened like a pointer sighting his bird, +peered intently for a moment, and gave tongue. + +The chase was ended. That they had sought, and feared to find, was +found. + +They came hurrying up, and clustered like cormorants on the slope, Julie +among them, her face grim and livid in its black setting, her eyes +blazing fiercely. + +The finder pointed it out. They all saw it--a huddled black heap close +in under the cliff. + +Elevated by his discovery, the finder maintained his reputation by doing +the only thing that could be done. He left them talking and sped away +across the downs, across the fields, towards Creux harbour. + +He might, if he had known it, have found a boat nearer at hand, Rouge +Terrier way or in Breniere Bay. But he was a Sark man, and a farmer at +that, and knew little and cared less, of the habits of Little Sark. + +And the rest, falling to his idea, streamed after him, for that which +lay under the cliff could only be gotten out by boat. + +So to the Creux, panting the news as he went. And there, willing hands +dragged a boat rasping down the shingle, and lusty arms, four men rowing +and one astern sculling and steering at the same time, sent her bounding +over the water as though it were life she sought, not death. For, though +no man among them had any smallest hope of finding life in that which +lay under the cliff, yet must they strain every muscle, till the +labouring boat seemed to share their anxiety to get there and learn the +worst. + +So, out past the Laches, with the tide boiling round the point; past +Derrible, with its yawning black mouths; past Dixcart with its patch of +sand; under the grim bastions of the Cagnon; the clean grey cliffs and +green downs above, all smiling in the morning sun; the clear green water +creaming among the black boulders, hissing among their girdles of tawny +sea-weeds, cascading merrily down their rifted sides; round the +Convanche corner, so deftly close that the beauty of the water cave is +bared to them, if they had eye or thought for anything but that which +lies under the cliff in Coupee Bay. And not a word said all the way--not +one word. Jokes and laughter go with the boat as a rule, and +high-pitched nasal patois talk; but here--not a word. + +The prow runs grating up the shingle, the heavy feet grind through it +all in a line, for none of them has any desire to be first. Together +they bend over that which had been Tom Hamon, and their faces are grim +and hard as the rocks about them. Not that they are indifferent, but +that any show of feeling would be looked upon as a sign of weakness. + +Under such circumstances men at times give vent to jocularities which +sound coarse and shocking. But they are not meant so--simply the protest +of the rough spirit at being thought capable of such unmanly weakness as +feeling. + +But these men were elementally silent. One look had shown them there was +nothing to be done but that which they had come to do--to carry what +they had found back to the waiting crowd at the Creux. + +They had none of them cared much for this man. He was not a man to make +close friends. But death had given him a new dignity among them, and the +rough hands lifted him, and bore him to the boat as tenderly as though a +jar or a stumble might add to his pains. + +And so, but with slower strokes now, as though that slight additional +burden, that single passenger, weighed them to the water's edge, they +crawl slowly back the way they came, logged, not with water, but with +the presence of death. + +The narrow beach between the tawny headlands is black with people. Up +above, on the edge of the cliff, another crowd peers curiously down. + +The Senechal is there at the water's edge, Philip Guille of La Ville, +and the Greffier, William Robert, who is also the schoolmaster, and +Thomas Le Masurier the Prevot, and Elie Guille the Constable, and Dr. +Stradling from Dixcart, and the dark-faced, fierce-eyed woman who cannot +keep still, but ranges to and fro in the lip of the tide, and whom they +all know now as the wife--the Frenchwoman, though some of them have +never seen her before. + +A buzz runs round as the boat comes slowly past the point of the Laches. +The woman stops her caged-beast walk and stands gazing fiercely at it, +as if she would tear its secret out of it before it touched the shore. + +The watchers on the cliff have the advantage. Something like a thrill +runs through them, something between a sigh and a groan breaks from +them. + +The woman wades out to meet the boat. She sees and screams, and chokes. +The wives on the beach groan in sympathy. + +The body is lifted carefully out and laid on the cool grey stones, and +the woman stands looking at it as a tiger may look at her slaughtered +mate. + +"Stand back! Stand back!" cries the Senechal to the thronging crowd; and +to the Constable, "Keep them back, you, Elie Guille!" to which Elie +Guille growls, "Par made, but that's not easy, see you!" + +The Doctor straightens up from his brief examination, and says a word to +the Senechal, and to the men about him. + +A rough stretcher is made out of a couple of oars and a sail, and the +sombre procession passes through the gloomy old tunnel into the Creux +Road, and wends its way up to the school-house for proper inquiry to be +made as to how Tom Hamon came by his death. + +And close behind the stretcher walks the dark-faced woman, with her eyes +like coals of fire, and her dress dragged open as though to stop her +from choking. + +"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!" she says in perpetual +iteration, through her clenched teeth. But to look at her face and eyes +you might think it was rather the devil she was calling on. + +For, ungracious as their lives had been in many respects, yet this +violent breaking of the yoke has left the survivor sore and wounded, and +furious to vent her rage on whom at present she knows not. + +She is not allowed inside the school-house--hastily cleared of its usual +occupants, who dodge about among the crowd outside, enjoying the +unlooked-for holiday with gusto in spite of its gruesome origin--and so +she prowls about outside, and the neighbours talk and she hears this, +that, and the other, and presently, with bitter, black face and rage in +her heart, she goes off home to find out Stephen Gard if she can, and +accuse him to his face of the murder of her husband. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +HOW PETER'S DIPLOMACY CAME TO NOUGHT + + +Peter Mauger had kept himself carefully beyond the range of Julie's wild +black eyes. In the state she was in there was no knowing what she might +do or say. And the words even of a mad woman sometimes stick like burrs. +He began to breathe more freely when she whirled away home. + +The Senechal and Constable came out of the school-house at last with +very grave faces. + +"The Doctor says his head was staved in with the blows of some round +blunt thing like a mallet," said the Senechal to the gaping crowd, "and +we must hold a proper inquiry. Any of you who saw Tom Hamon last night +will be here at two o'clock to tell us all you know. Tell any others who +know anything about it that they must be here too," and he went back +into the school-house, and the buzzing crowd dispersed, with plenty to +buzz about now in truth. + +Peter Mauger went thoughtfully home. He had had no breakfast, and was +feeling the need of it, and he had something in his mind that he wanted +to think out. + +And as he ate he thought, slowly and ruminatingly, and with many pauses, +when his jaws stopped working to give his mind freer play, but still +very much to the purpose, and as soon as he had done he set out to put +his project into execution. + +Just beyond the Coupee he met Gard hurrying towards Sark, and the state +of Gard's nose and eye, and his torn coat, caught his eye at once. + +"What's this about Tom Hamon?" asked Gard hastily. + +"He's dead." + +"His wife has just told me so. But how did it happen?" + +"They're going to find out at school-house at two o'clock. Any that saw +him last night are to be there. You'd better be there." + +"I'm going now." + +"All right," said Peter, and went on his way into Little Sark. + +His way took him to La Closerie. But he was not anxious to meet Mrs. +Tom, so he hung about behind the hedges till Nance happened to come out +of the house, and then he whistled softly and beckoned to her to come to +him. + +Her face was very pale and troubled, and he saw she had been crying. + +"I want to speak to you," he said. + +"What is it?" + +"Come round here. It's important." + +"What is it?" she asked wearily again, when she had joined him behind +the green dyke. + +"It's this, Nance. You--you know I want you. I've always wanted you--" + +"Oh--don't!" she cried, with protesting hand. "This is no time. Peter +Mauger, for--" + +"Wait a bit! Here's how it is. Doctor says Tom was killed by some one +beating his head in with a hammer or something of the kind. Now who beat +his head in? Who would be most likely to beat his head in? Not me, for +we were mates. Some one that hated him. Some one that he was always +quarrelling with--" Her face had grown so white that there was no colour +even in the trembling lips. She stared at him with terrified eyes. + +"You know who I mean," he said. "If it wasn't him that did it I don't +know who it was." + +"It wasn't," she jerked vehemently. + +"You'd wish so, of course. But--Look here!--I'm pretty sure they met +again last night after--" + +"Yes, they met, and Tom tried to fight him--" + +"Ah--then!" + +"And he's gone up at once, as soon as he heard that Tom was found, to +tell them all about it." + +"Aw!"--decidedly crestfallen at the wind being taken out of his sails in +this fashion. "I--I thought--maybe I could help him--" + +"Oh you did, did you?"--plucking up heart at sight of his discomfiture. +"And how were you going to help him?" + +"If he's gone to make a clean breast of it it's all up, of course. If +he'd kept it to himself--" + +"He might have run away, you mean?" + +"Safest for him, maybe. Up above Coupee there's a stone with blood on +it. And I picked up this beside it," and he hauled out the button and +the bit of blue cloth he had found. "I thought, maybe if he knew about +these he might think it safest to go." + +"Then every one would have the right to say he'd done it, and he didn't. +He knew no more about it than you did." + +"I didn't know anything about it." + +"Well, neither did he, and he's not the kind to run away." + +"Aw, well--I done my best. You'll remember that, Nance. You know what +the Sark men are. He'd be safest away. You tell him I say so," and he +pouched his discounted piece of evidence and turned and went, leaving +Nance with a heavy heart. + +For, as Peter said, she knew what the Sark men were--a law unto +themselves, and slow to move out of the deep-cut grooves of the past, +but, once stirred to boiling point, capable of going to any lengths +without consideration of consequences. + +And therein lay Gard's peril. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +HOW THE SARK MEN FELT ABOUT IT + + +Every soul in the Island that could by any means get there, was in or +outside the school-house, mostly outside, long before the clock struck +two. Never in their lives had they hurried thither like that before. + +A barricade of forms had been made across the room. Within it, at the +school-master's table, sat the Senechal, Philip Guille, and the Doctor, +and old Mr. Cachemaille, the Vicar, ageing rapidly since the tragic +death of his good friend, the late Seigneur; beside them stood the +Prevot and the Greffier, behind them lay the body of Tom Hamon covered +with a sheet. + +It was a perfect day, with a cloudless blue sky and blazing sun, and all +the windows were opened wide. Those inside dripped with perspiration, +but felt cold chills below their blue guernseys each time they looked at +that stark figure with the upturned feet beneath the cold white sheet. + +Outside the barricade stood Elie Guille, the Constable, and his +understudy Abraham Baker, the Vingtenier, to keep order and call the +witnesses. + +The Seigneur, Mr. Le Pelley, was away or he would undoubtedly have been +there too. In his absence the Senechal conducted the proceedings. + +In the front row of school-desks, scored with the deep-cut initials of +generations of Sark boys, sat the dead man's widow, tense and quivering, +her eyes consuming fires in deep black wells, her face livid, her hands +clenched still as though waiting for something to rend. + +More than one of the men who sat beside her at the desk found, with a +grim smile, his own name looking up at him out of the maltreated board. +And one nudged his neighbour and pointed to the name of Tom Hamon, cut +deeper than any of the others and with the N upside down. + +Very briefly the Senechal stated that they were there to find out, if +they could, how Tom Hamon came by his death, and added very gravely, in +a deep silence, that after a most careful examination of the body the +Doctor was of opinion that death had been caused, not by the fall from +the Coupee, which accounted for the dreadful bruises, but by violent +blows on the head with a hammer or some sueh thing prior to the fall. +They wanted to find out all about it. + +The Doctor stood up and confirmed what the Senechal had said, went +somewhat more into detail to substantiate his opinion, and ended by +saying, "The head, as it happens, is less bruised than any other part of +the body, except on the crown, and that is practically beaten in, and +not, I am prepared to swear, by a fall. These wounds were the immediate +cause of death, and they were made before he fell down the rocks. +Besides, he went down feet first. The abrasions on the legs and thighs +prove that beyond a doubt. Then again, the base of the skull is not +fractured, as it most certainly would have been if he had fallen on his +head. Death was undoubtedly the result of those wounds in the head. It +is impossible for me to say for certain with what kind of weapon they +were made, but it was probably something round and blunt." + +"Now," said the Senechal, when the Doctor had finished, and the hum and +the growl which followed had died down again, "will any of you who know +anything about this matter come forward and tell us all you know?" + +Stephen Gard stood up at once and all eyes settled on him. Then Peter +Mauger was pushed along from the back, with friendly thumps and growling +injunctions to speak up. But the looks bestowed on Gard were of quite a +different quality from those given to Peter, and the men at the table +could not but notice it. + +"We will take Peter Mauger first. Let him be sworn," said the Senechal, +and Gard sat down. + +The Greffier swore Peter in the old Island fashion--"Vous jurez par la +foi que vous devez a Dieu que vous direz la verite, et rien que la +verite, et tous ce que vous connaissez dans cette cause, et que Dieu +vous soit en aide! (You swear by the faith which you owe to God that you +will tell the truth, and only the truth, and all that you know +concerning this case, and so help you God!)" + +Peter put up his right hand and swore so to do. + +"Now tell us all you know," said the Senechal. + +And Peter ramblingly told how he and Tom had been drinking together the +night before, and how Tom had started off home and he had gone to bed. + +"Were you both drunk?" + +"Well--" + +"Very well, you were. Did you think it right to let your friend go off +in that condition when he had to cross the Coupee?" + +"I've seen him worse, many times, and no harm come to him." + +"Well, get on!" + +He told how Mrs. Tom woke him up in the morning, and how they had all +gone in search of the missing man. + +"Was it you that found him?" + +"No, it was Charles Guille of Clos Bourel. But I found something too." + +"What was it?" + +"This"--and from under his coat he drew out carefully the white stone +with its red-brown spots, and from his pocket the button and the scrap +of blue cloth. And those at the back stood up, with much noise, to see. + +The men at the table looked at these scraps of possible evidence with +interest, as they were placed before them. + +"Where did you find these things?" + +"Between Plaisance and the Coupee." + +"What do you make of them?" + +"Seemed to me those red spots might be blood. The other's a button torn +off some one's coat." + +"Have you any idea whose blood and whose coat?" + +"The blood I don't know. The button, I believe, is off Mr. Gard's +coat,"--at which another growl and hum went round. + +"And you know nothing more about the matter?" + +"That's all I know." + +"Very well. Sit down. Mr. Gard!" and Gard pushed his way among +unyielding legs and shoulders, and stood before the grave-faced men at +the table. + +They all knew him and had all come to esteem what they knew of him. They +knew also of his difficulties with his men, and that there was a certain +feeling against him in some quarters. Not one of them thought it likely +he had done this dreadful thing. But--there was no knowing to what +lengths even a decent man might go in anger. All their brows pinched a +little at sight of his torn coat and missing button. + +He was duly sworn, and the Senechal bade him tell all he knew of the +matter. + +"That button is mine," he said quietly, holding out the lapel of his +coat for all to see. "If there is blood on that stone it is mine +also"--at which a growling laugh of derision went round the spectators. + +Gard flushed at this unmistakable sign of hostility. The Senechal +threatened to turn them all out if anything of the kind happened again, +and Gard proceeded to recount in minutest detail the happenings of the +previous night--so far as they concerned himself and Tom Hamon. + +"What were you doing down at the Coupee at that time of night?" asked +the Senechal. + +"I had been having a smoke and was just about to turn in when I met Miss +Hamon hurrying to the Doctor's for some medicine. I asked her permission +to accompany her, and then took her home to Little Sark. It was when I +was coming back that I met Tom Hamon." + +"Yes, little Nance came to me about half-past ten," said the Doctor, "I +remember I asked her if she was not afraid to go all that way home +alone, and she said she had a friend with her." + +"Was there any specially bad feeling between you and Tom Hamon?" + +"There had always been bad feeling, but any one who knows anything about +it knows that it was not of my making." + +"Will you explain it to us?" + +"If you say I must. One does not like to say ill things of the dead." + +"We want to get to the bottom of this matter, Mr. Gard. Tell us all you +know that will help us." + +"Very well, sir, but I am sorry to have to go into that. It all began +through Tom's bad treatment of his stepmother and step-sister and +brother when I lived at La Closerie. I took sides with them and tried to +bring him to better manners. We rarely met without his flinging some +insult after me. They were generally in the patois, but I knew them to +be insults by his manner and by the way they were greeted by those who +did understand." + +"Had you met last night before you met near the Coupee?" + +"We passed Tom by La Vauroque as we came from the Doctor's. He shouted +something after us, but I did not understand it." + +"You don't know what it was that he said?" an unfortunate question on +the part of the Senechal, and quite unintentionally so on his part. It +necessitated the introduction of matters Gard would fain have kept out +of the enquiry. + +"Well," he said, with visible reluctance, "I learned afterwards, and by +accident, something of what he said or meant." + +"How was that, and what was it?" + +"Is it necessary to go into that? Won't it do if I say it was a very +gross insult?" + +The three at the table conferred for a moment. Then the Senechal said +very kindly, "I perceive we are getting on to somewhat delicate ground, +Mr. Gard, but, for your own sake. I would suggest that no occasion +should be given to any to say that you are hiding anything from the +court." + +"Very well, sir, I have nothing whatever to hide, and I have still less +to be ashamed of. I found Miss Hamon was weeping bitterly at what her +brother had said, and I tried to get her to tell me what it was, but she +would not. I said I knew it was something against me, but I hoped by +this time she had learned to know and trust me. I told her her sobs cut +me to the heart and that I would give my life to save her from trouble. +In a word, I told her I loved her, and in the excitement of the moment +she dropped a word or two that gave me an inkling of what Tom had said. +It was casting dirt at both her and myself. Then, as I came home, I met +Tom as I have told you." + +The Senechal considered the matter for a moment. He did not for one +moment believe that Gard had had any hand in the killing of Tom Hamon. +But he could not but perceive the hostile feeling that was abroad, and +his desire was, if possible, to allay it. + +"It is, I should think," he said gravely, "past any man's believing +that, after asking Tom's sister to marry you, you should go straight +away and kill Tom, even in the hottest of hot blood, though men at such +times do not always know what they are doing. But you, from what I have +seen and heard of you, are not such a man. I am going to ask you one +question in the hope that your answer may have the effect of setting you +right with all who hear it. Before God--had you any hand in the death of +this man?--have you any further knowledge of the matter whatever?" + +"Before God," said Gard solemnly, his uplifted right hand as steady as +a rock, "I had no hand in his death. I know nothing more whatever about +the matter." + +"I believe you," said the Senechal. + +"And I," said the Doctor. + +"And I," said the Vicar gravely, and with much emotion. + +But from the spectators there rose a dissentient murmur which caused the +Vicar to survey his unruly flock with mild amazement and +disapproval--much as the shepherd might if his sheep had suddenly shed +their fleeces and become wolves. + +And Julie Hamon sprang to her feet with blazing eyes, pointed a shaking +hand at Gard, and screamed: + +"Murderer! Murderer! Murderer!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +HOW SARK CRAVED BLOOD FOR BLOOD + + +Stephen Gard walked slowly down the road towards Plaisance in the lowest +of spirits. + +This strange people amongst whom he had fallen, possessed, in +pre-eminent degree, what in these later times is known as the defects of +its qualities. + +Black sheep there were, of course, as there are in every community, who +seemed all defects and possessed of no redeeming qualities whatever. +But, taken as a whole, the men of Sark were simple, honest according to +their lights, brave and hardy, very tenacious of their own ideas and +their island rights, somewhat stubborn and easier to lead than to drive, +and withal red-blooded, as the result of their ancestry, and given to a +large despite of foreigners, in which category were included all +unfortunates born outside the rugged walls of Sark. + +He had done his best among them, both for their own interests and those +of the mines, but no striving would ever make him other than a +foreigner; and in the depression of spirit consequent on the trying +experiences of the day, he gloomily pondered the idea of giving up his +post and finding a more congenial atmosphere elsewhere. + +Still, he was a Cornishman, and dour to beat. And, if he had incurred +unreasonable dislike, he had also lighted on the virgin lode of Nance's +love and trust, and that, he said to himself with a glow of gratitude, +outweighed all else. + +He had left the school-house at once when he had given his evidence, and +had heard no more of what had taken place there. The bystanders had let +him pass without any open opposition, but their faces had been hard and +unsympathetic, and he recognized that life among them would be anything +but a sunny road for some time to come. + +If the people at Plaisance had told him to clear out and find another +lodging he would not have been in the least surprised. But they had no +such thought. In common with all who really got to know him, they had +come to esteem and like him, and they had no reason to believe that he +had had anything to do with Tom Hamon's death. + +He had pondered these matters wearily till bed-time, and he turned in at +last sick of himself, and Sark, and things generally. But his brain +would not sleep, and the longer he lay and the more he tossed and +turned, the wearier he grew. + +Sleep seemed so impossible that he was half inclined to get up and dress +and go out. The cool night air and the freshness of the dawn would be +better than this sleepless unresting. Suddenly there came a sharp little +tap on his window. + +A bird, he thought, or a bat. + +The tap came again--sharp and imperative. + +He got up quietly and went to the window. The night was still dark. As +he peered into it a hand came up again and tapped once more and he +opened the window. + +"Mr. Gard!"--in a sharp whisper. + +"Nance! What is it, dear? Anything wrong?" + +"I want you--quick." + +"One minute!" and he hastily threw on his things and joined her outside. + +"What is it, Nance?" he asked anxiously, wondering what new complication +had arisen. + +"I'll tell you as we go. Come!" and they were speeding noiselessly down +the road to the Coupee. + +There she took his hand, as once before, to lead him safely across, and +her hand, he perceived, was trembling violently. + +They were half way along the narrow path when the hollow way in front +leading up into Little Sark resounded suddenly with the tramp of heavy +feet. + +"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!" panted Nance, and he could feel her turn and look +round like a hunted animal. + +"Quick!" she whispered. "Behind here! and oh, grip tight!" and she knelt +and crawled on hands and knees round the base of the nearest pinnacle. + +In those days the pinnacles which buttress the Coupee were considerably +higher and bulkier than they are now, and along their rugged flanks the +adventurous or sorely-pressed might find precarious footing. But it was +a nerve-racking experience even in the day-time when the eye could guide +the foot. Now, in the ebon-black night, it was past thinking of. + +Dazed by the suddenness and strangeness of the whole matter, and without +an inkling of what it all meant, Gard clung like a fly to the bare rock +and tried his hardest not to think of the sheer three hundred feet that +lay between him and the black beach below. + +In grim and menacing silence, save for the crunch of their heavy feet on +the crumbling pathway, the men went past, a dozen or more, as it seemed +to Gard. When the sound of them had died in the hollow on the Sark +side, Nance whispered, "Quick now! quick!" + +They crawled back into the roadway, and she took his hand in hers again +which shook more than ever, and they sped away into Little Sark. + +"Now tell me, Nance. What is it all about?" he panted, as she nipped +through an opening in a green bank and led the way towards the eastern +cliffs over by the Pot. + +"Oh--it's you they want," she gasped, and he stopped instantly and +stood, as though he would turn and go back. + +"It is no use," she jerked emphatically, between breaths, and dragged +impatiently at his arm. "You don't know our Sark men.... They do things +first and are sorry after.... Bernel heard them planning it all.... The +men from Sark were to meet these ones, and then--" + +"But," he said angrily, "running away looks like--" + +"No, no! Not here.... And it is only for a time. The truth will come +out, but it would be too late if they had got you." + +"What would they have done with me?" + +"Oh--terrible things. They are madmen when they are angry." + +He had yielded to her will, and they were speeding swiftly along the +downs. The path was quite invisible to him. He tripped and stumbled at +times on tangled roots of gorse and bracken, but she kept on swiftly and +unerringly, as though the night were light about her. + +"Where are you taking me?" he asked, as they crept past the miners' +cottages on the cliff above Rouge Terrier. + +"To Breniere.... To L'Etat.... Bernel went on to find a boat." + +And presently they were out on the bald cliff-head, and slipping and +sliding down it till they came to the ledge, below which Breniere +spreads out on the water like a giant's hand. + +Between her panting breaths Nance whistled a low soft note like the pipe +of a sea-bird. A like sound came softly up from below, and slipping and +stumbling again, they were on the beach among mighty boulders girt with +dripping sea-weed. + +Another low pipe out of the darkness, and they had found the boat and +tumbled into it, wet and bruised, and breathless. + +"Dieu merci!" said Bernel, and pulled lustily out to sea. + +The swirl of the tide caught them as they cleared Breniere Point, and +Gard crawled forward to take an oar. Nance did the same, and so set +Bernel free to scull and steer, the arrangement which dire experience +has taught the Sark men as best adapted to their rock-strewn waters and +racing currents. + +Gard's mind was in a tumult of revolt, but he sensibly drove his +feelings through his muscles to the blade of his oar, and said nothing. +Nance and Bernel were not likely to have gone to these lengths without +what seemed to them sufficient reason. + +And he remembered Nance's trembling arm on the Coupee, and her agonies +of fear on his account, and so came by degrees to a certain acceptance +of their view of matters, and therewith a feeling of gratitude for their +labours and risks on his behalf. For he did not doubt that, should the +self-appointed administrators of justice learn who had baulked them of +their prey, they would wreak upon them some of the vengeance they had +intended for himself. + +He saw that it was no light matter these two had undertaken, and as he +thought it over, and told the black welter under his oar what he thought +of these wild and hot-headed Sark men, his gratitude grew. + +The thin orange sickle of a moon rose at last, high by reason of the +mists banked thick along the horizon, and afforded them a welcome +glimmer of light--barely a glimmer indeed, rather a mere thinning of the +clinging darkness, but enough for Bernel's tutored eye. + +He took them in a cautious circuit outside the Quette d'Amont, the +eastern sentinel of L'Etat, and so, with shipped oars, by means of his +single scull astern, brought them deftly to the riven black ledges round +the corner on the south side. + +It is a precarious landing at best, and the after scramble up the +crumbling slope calls for caution even in the light of day. In that +misleading darkness, clinging with his hands and climbing on the sides +of his feet, and starting at startled feathered things that squawked and +fluttered from under his groping hands and feet, Gard found it no easy +matter to follow Nance, though she carried a great bundle and waited for +him every now and again. When he looked down next day upon the way they +had come he marvelled that they had ever reached the top in safety. + +"Wait here!" she said at last, when they had attained a somewhat level +place, and before he had breath for a word she was away down again. + +She was back presently with another bundle, and he started when she +thrust into his hands a long gun, and bade him pick up the first bundle +and follow her. The feel of the gun brought home to him, as nothing else +could have done, her and Bernel's views of possible contingencies. + +He followed her stumblingly along the rough crown of the ridge, till she +dipped down a rather smoother slope and came to a stand before what +seemed to him a heap of huge stones. + +"There is shelter in here," she said. "And these things are for your +comfort. We will bring you more to eat in a day or two--" + +"Nance, dear," he said, dropping the gun and the bundle, and laying his +hand on her slim shoulder. "I have become a sore burden to you--" + +"Oh no, no!" she said hastily. "You would have done as much for me, and +it is because--" + +"For you, dear? I would give my life for you, Nance, and here it is you +who are doing everything, and running all these risks for me." + +"It is because I know they are in the wrong. It may be only a day or +two, and they will thank me when they find out their mistake." + +"Well, I thank you and Bernel with my whole heart. Please God I may some +time be able to repay you!" + +"If you are safe, that is all we want. Now I must go. We must get back +before they miss us." + +"God keep you, dear!" and he bent and kissed her, and as before she +kissed him back with the frankness of a child. + +He was about to follow her when she turned to go, but she said +imperatively, "Stop here, or you may lose yourself in the dark. And in +the day-time do not walk on the ridge or they may see you--" + +"And the gun? What is that for?" + +"If they should come here after you, you will keep them off with it," +she said, with a spurt of the true Island spirit. "It is your life they +seek, and they are in the wrong. But no one ever comes here, and you +will not need it. Now, good-bye! And God have you in His keeping!" + +"And you, dearest--and all yours!"--and she was gone like a flitting +shadow. + +And while he still stood peering into the darkness into which she had +merged, she suddenly materialized again and was by his side. + +"I forgot. Bernel told me to tell you it throws a little high. But I +hope you won't need it. And there is fresh water among the rocks at the +south end there." + +He caught her to him again, and kissed her ardently, and then she was +gone. + +He strained his ears, fearful of hearing her slip or fall in the +darkness, but she went without displacing a stone, and he was alone with +the sickly moon, and the sombre sky, and the voices of the rising tide +along the grim black ledges of his sanctuary. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +HOW LOVE TOOK LOVE TO SANCTUARY + + +It all seemed monstrous strange to him, now that he had time to think of +the actual fact apart from the difficulties of its accomplishment. + +An hour ago he was lying in his bed at Plaisance, in low enough spirits, +indeed, at the outlook before him, but his gloomiest thought had never +plumbed depths such as this. + +He wondered briefly if so extreme a step had been really necessary. + +And then he heard again the purposeful tramp of those heavy feet on the +Coupee, and fathomed again the menace of them. + +And he felt Nance's guiding hand trembling violently in his once more, +and he said to himself that she and Bernel knew better than he how the +land lay, and that he could not have done other than he had done. + +Then he became aware that the dew was drenching him, and so he bent and +groped in the dark for the shelter Nance had spoken of. + +The strip of moon had paled as it rose, the huge white stones glimmered +faintly in it, and a darker patch below showed him where the entrance +must be. He crept into the darker patch on his hands and knees, bumping +his head violently, but once inside found room to sit upright. Snaking +out again, he laid hold of the two bundles and the gun, and dragged them +into shelter. + +What the bundles contained he could not tell in the dark, but one felt +like a thick woollen cloak, and the other like a blanket, and among +their contents he felt a loaf of bread, and a bottle and a powder-flask. +So he rolled himself up in the blanket and the cloak, and lay wondering +at the strange case in which he found himself, and so at last fell +asleep. + + * * * * * + +He woke into a dapple of light and shade which filled his wandering wits +with wonder, till, with a start, he came to himself and remembered. + +The place he was in was something like a stone bee-hive, about eight +feet across from side to side, with a rounded sloping roof rising at its +highest some four feet from the ground, and the great blocks of which it +was built fitted so ill in places that the sun shot the darkness through +and through with innumerable little white arrows of light. The dark +opening of the night was now a glowing invitation to the day. He shook +off his wraps and crawled out into the open. + +And what an open! + +He drew deep breaths of delight at the magnificence of his outlook--its +vastness, its spaciousness, its wholesome amplitude and loneliness. He +felt like a new man born solitary into a new world. + +The sky, without a cloud, was like a mighty hollowed sapphire, in which +blazed the clear white sun; and the vast plain of the sea, sweeping away +into infinity, was a still deeper blue, with here and there long swathes +of green, and here and there swift-speeding ruffles purple-black. + +A brisk easterly breeze set all the face of it a-ripple, and where the +dancing wavelets caught the sun it glanced and gleamed like sheets of +molten silver. + +"A silver sea! A silver sea!" he cried aloud, and into his mind there +flashed an incongruous comparison of the bountifulness of Nature's +silver with the pitiful grains they hacked out of her rocks with such +toil and hardship. + +Away to the south across the silver sea the Jersey cliffs shone clear in +the sunshine, and on the dimpling plain between, the black Paternosters +looked so like the sails of boats heading for Sark that he remembered +suddenly that he was in hiding, and dropped to cover alongside the great +stones of his shelter. + +But careful observation of the square black objects showed him that they +did not move, and anyway they were much too far away to see him. So he +took courage again, and, full of curiosity concerning his hiding-place, +he crept up the southern slope till he reached the ridge of the roof, so +to speak, and lay there looking over, entranced with the beauty of the +scene before him. + +The whole east coast of Sark right up to the Burons, off the Creux, lay +basking in the morning light. Dixcart and Derrible held no secrets from +him; he looked straight up their shining beaches. Their bold headlands +were like giant-fists reaching out along the water towards him. +Breniere, the nearest point to his rock, was another mighty grasping +hand, but between it and him swept a furious race of tossing, +white-capped waves, with here and there black fangs of rock which stuck +up through the green waters as though hungering for prey. + +He could just see the upper part of the miners' cottages on the cliff +above Rouge Terrier, but, beyond these and the ruined mill on Hog's +Back, not another sign of man and his toilsome, troublesome little +works. But for these, Sark, in its utter loneliness, might have been a +new-found island, and he its first discoverer. + +Ranging on, his eye rested on the shattered fragments of Little Sark, +scattered broadcast over the sea about its most southerly point--bare +black pinnacles, ragged ledges, islets, rocklets, reefs, and fangs, +every one of which seemed to stir the placid sea to wildest wrath. +Elsewhere it danced and dimpled in the sunshine, with only the long slow +heave in it to tell of the sleeping giant below, but round each rock, +and up the sides of his own huge pyramid, it swept in great green +combers shot with bubbling white, and went tumbling back upon itself in +rings of boiling foam. + +Beyond, he saw the rounded back of Jethou, and just behind it the long +line of houses in Guernsey. + +He lay long enjoying it all, with the warm sun on his back, and the +brisk wind toning his blood, but no view, however wonderful, will +satisfy a man's stomach. He had fed the day before mostly on most +unsatisfying emotions, and now he began to feel the need of something +more solid. So he crept back along the slope to find out what there was +for breakfast. + +His stores lay about the floor of his resting-place, just as he had +turned them out in the night; a couple of long loaves, a good-sized +piece of raw bacon, and another of boiled pork which he thought he +recognized, some butter in a cloth, a bottle which looked as if it might +contain spirits, the powder-flask, and a small linen bag containing +bullets, snail-shot, and percussion caps. These, with Bernel's gun and +the blanket, and the old woollen cloak, which he recognized as Mr. +Hamon's roquelaure, and his pipe, and the tobacco he happened to have +in his pouch, constituted, for the time being, his worldly possessions. + +He spread his cloak and blanket in the sun to dry and air, and, doubtful +whether his rock would supply any further provision or when more might +reach him from Sark, he proceeded to make a somewhat restricted meal of +bread and cold pork. + +The raw bacon suggested something of a problem. To cook it he must have +a fire. To have a fire he must have fuel; his tinder-box he always +carried, of course, for the new matches had not yet penetrated to Sark. +Moreover, to light a fire might be dangerous as liable to attract +attention, unless he could do it under cover where no stray gleams could +get out. + +He pondered these matters as he ate, spinning out his exiguous meal to +its uttermost crumb to make it as satisfying as possible. + +He saw his way at once to perfecting his cover. All about him where he +sat, the grey rock pushed through a thin friable soil like the bones of +an ill-buried skeleton. And everywhere in the scanty soil grew thick +little rounded cushions, half grass, half moss, varying in size from an +apple to a foot-stool, which came out whole at a pluck or a kick. After +breakfast he would plug up every hole in his shelter, and pile +half-a-dozen sizeable pieces outside with which to close the front door. +Then, if he could find anything in the shape of fuel, he saw his way to +a dinner of fried bacon, but it would have to be after dark when the +smoke would be invisible. + +But first he must find out about his water supply. + +Down at the south end, Nance had said. That must be over there, on that +almost-detached stack of rocks, where the waves seemed to break loudest. + +So, after another crawl up to the ridge to make certain that no boats +were about--for he had frequently seen them fishing in the neighbourhood +of L'Etat--he crept down the flank of his pyramid almost to sea-level to +get across to the outer pile. + +He had to pick his way with caution across a valley of black rocks, +rifted and chasmed by the fury of the waves. He could imagine--or +thought he could, but came far short of it--how the great green rollers +would thunder through that black gully in the winter storms. + +There were great wells lined all round with rich brown sea-weeds, and +narrow chasms in whose hidden depths the waters swooked and gurgled like +unseen monsters, and whose broken edges, on which he had to step, were +like the rough teeth of gigantic saws set up on end alongside one +another. + +He crawled across these rough serrations and scaled the rifted black +wall in front, and came at once on a number of shallow pools of +rain-water lying in the hollows of a mighty slab. + +But the moment his head rose above the level of the steep black wall his +ears were filled with a deafening roaring and rushing, supplemented by +most tremendous dull thuddings which shook the stack like the blows of a +mighty flail. + +From behind a further wall there rose a boiling mist, through which +lashed up white jets of spray which slanted over the rocks beyond in a +continuous torrent. + +He crawled to the further wall and looked over into a deep black gully, +some fifteen feet wide and perhaps thirty feet deep, into which, out of +a perfectly calm sea, most monstrous waves came roaring and leaping, +till the whole chasm was foaming and spuming like an over-boiling +milk-pan. In the middle of the chasm, for the further torment of the +waters, was jammed a huge black rock, against which the incoming green +avalanche dashed itself to fragments and went rocketing into the air. +The solid granite at the further end was cleft from summit to base by a +tiny rift a foot wide through which the boiling spume poured out to the +sea beyond. + +But the marvel was where those gigantic waves came from. Save for the +dancing wind-ripples and its long, slow internal pulsations, the sea was +as smooth as a pond to within twenty yards of the rocks. Then it +suddenly seemed to draw itself together, to draw itself down into itself +indeed, like a tiger compressing its springs for a leap, and then, with +a rush and a roar, it launched itself at the rocks with the weight of +the ocean behind it, and hurtled blindly into the chasm where the black +rock lay. + +It was a most wonderful sight, and Gard sat long watching it, then and +later, fascinated always and puzzled by that extraordinary +self-compression and sudden upleap of the waters out of an otherwise +placid sea. + +It was but one more odd expression of Nature's fantastic humour, and the +nearest he could come to an explanation of it was that, in the sea bed +just there, was some great fault, some huge chasm into which the waters +fell and then came leaping out to further torment on the rocks. + +It was as he was returning to his own quarters by a somewhat different +route across the valley of rocks, that he lighted on another find which +contented him greatly. + +In one of the saw-toothed chasms he saw a piece of wood sticking up, and +climbed along to get it as first contribution to his fire. And when he +got to it, down below in the gully, he found jammed the whole side of a +boat, flung up there by some high spring tide and trapped before it +could escape. Excellent wood for his firing, well tarred and fairly dry. +He hauled and pulled till he had it all safely up, and then he carried +it, load after load, to his house, and laid it out in the sun to dry +still more. + +He worked hard all day, keeping a wary outlook for any stray fishermen. + +First he culled a great heap of the thin wiry grass which seemed the +chief product of his rock, and spread it also to dry for a couch. There +was no bracken for bedding, no gorse for firing. The grass would supply +the place of the one, the broken boat the other. + +Then he made good all the holes in his walls and roof, except one in the +latter for the escape of the smoke, and built a solid wall of the tufted +cushions round the seaward side of his doorway, as a screen against his +light being seen, and as a protection from the south-west wind if it +should blow up strong in the night. + +He found it very strange to be toiling on these elemental matters, with +never a soul to speak to. He felt like a castaway on a desert island, +with the additional oddness of knowing himself to be within reach of his +kind, yet debarred from any communication with them on pain, possibly, +of death. + +At times he felt like a condemned criminal, yet knew that he had done no +wrong, and that it was only the mistaken justice of a simple people +that wanted blood for blood, and was not over-heedful as to whose blood +so long as its own sense of justice was satisfied. + +But, he kept saying to himself, things might have been worse with him, +very much worse, but for Nance and Bernel. And before long, any day, the +matter might be cleared up and himself reinstated in the opinion of the +Sark men. + +Even that would leave much to be desired, but possibly, he thought, if +they found they had sorely misjudged him in this matter, they might +realize that they had done so in other matters also, and that he had +only been striving to do his duty as he saw it. + +And then, wherever else his thoughts led him, there was always Nance, +and the thought of Nance always set his heart aglow and braced him to +patient endurance and hope. + +He retraced, again and again, all the ways they had travelled together +in these later days, recalled her every word and look, felt again the +trembling of her hand--for him--on the Coupee, heard again the tremors +of her voice as she urged him to safety. And those sweet ingenuous +kisses she had given him! Yes, indeed, he had much to be grateful for, +if some things to cavil at, in fortune's dealings. + +But, behind all his fair white thought of Nance, was always the black +background of the whole circumstances of the case, and the grim fact of +Tom Hamon's death, and he pondered this last with knitted brows from +every point of view, and strove in vain for a gleam of light on the +darkness. + +Could the Doctor be mistaken, and was Tom's death the simple result of +his fall over the Coupee? The Doctor's pronouncement, however, seemed +to leave no loophole of hope there. + +If not, then who had killed Tom, and why? + +He could think of no one. He could imagine no reason for it. + +Tom had been a bully at home, but outside he was on jovial terms with +his fellows--except only himself. He had to acknowledge to himself the +seeming justice of the popular feeling. If any man in Sark might, with +some show of reason, have been suspected of the killing of Tom Hamon, it +was himself. + +Once, by reason of overmuch groping in the dark, an awful doubt came +upon him--was it possible that, in some horrible wandering of the mind, +of which he remembered nothing, he had actually done this thing? Done it +unconsciously, in some over-boiling of hot blood into the brain, which +in its explosion had blotted out every memory of what had passed? + +It was a hideous idea, born of over-strain and overmuch groping after +non-existent threads in a blind alley. + +He tried to get outside himself, and follow Stephen Gard that night and +see if that terrible thing could have been possible to him. + +But he followed himself from point to point, and from moment to moment, +and accounted for himself to himself without any lapse whatever; unless, +indeed, his brain had played him false and he had gone out of the house +again after going into it, and followed Tom and struck him down. + +With what? The Doctor said with some blunt instrument like a hammer. +Where could he have obtained it? What had he done with it? + +The idea, while it lasted, was horrible. But he shook it off at last +and called himself a fool for his pains. He had never harboured thought +of murder in his life. He had detested Tom, but he had never gone the +length of wishing him dead. The whole idea was absurd. + +All these things he thought over as, his first essential labours +completed, he lay under the screen of the ridge and watched the sun +dropping towards Guernsey in a miracle of eventide glories. + +Below him, the long slow seas rocketted along the ragged black base of +his rock with mighty roarings and tumultuous bursts of foam, and on the +ledges the gulls and cormorants squabbled and shrieked, and took long +circling flights without fluttering a wing, to show what gulls could do, +or skimmed darkly just above the waves and into them, to show that +cormorants were never satisfied. And now and again wild flights of +red-billed puffins swept up from the water and settled out of his sight +at the eastern end of the rock, and he promised himself to look them up +some other day if opportunity offered. + +From the constant tumult of the seas about his rock, except just at low +water, he saw little fear of being taken by surprise, even if his +presence there became known. Twice only in the twenty-four hours did it +seem possible for any one to effect a landing there, and at those times +he promised himself to be on the alert. + +He lay there till the sun had gone, and the pale green and amber, and +the crimson and gold of his going had slowly passed from sea and sky, +and left them grey and cold; till a single light shone out on Sark, +which he knew must be in one of the miners' cottages, and many lights +twinkled in Guernsey; till beneath him he could no longer see the sea, +but only the white foam fury as it boiled along the rocks. Then he crept +away to his burrow, rejoicing in the thought of the companionship of a +fire and hot food. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +HOW THE STARS SANG OF HOPE + + +It took Gard some time to get his fire started, and when it did blaze +up, with fine spurts of gas from the tar, and vivid blue and green and +red flames from the salted wood, the little stone bee-hive glowed like +an oven and presently grew as hot as one. The smoke escaped but slowly +through the single hole in the roof, and at last he could stand it no +longer, and crept out into the night until his fire should have burned +down to a core of red ashes over which he could grill his dinner. + +And what a night! He had seen the stars from many parts of the earth and +sea, but never, it seemed to him, had he seen such stars as these, so +close, so large, so wonderfully clean and bright. And, indeed, glory of +the heavens so supreme as that is possible only far away from man, and +all the works and habitations of man, and all his feeble efforts at the +mitigation of the darkness. Nay, for fullest perception, it may be that +it is necessary for a man to be not only alone in the profundity of +Nature's night, but to be lifted somewhat out of himself and his natural +darkness by extremity of joy, or still more of need. + +The milky way was as white as though a mighty brush dipped in glittering +star-dust had been drawn across the velvet dome. The larger stars, many +of which were old acquaintances and known to him by name, seemed to +swing so clear and close that they took on quite a new aspect of +friendliness and cheer. The smaller--I write as he thought--a mighty +host, an innumerable company quite beyond his ken, still spoke to him in +a language that he had never forgotten. + +Long ago, when he was quite a little boy, he had come upon a great globe +of the heavens, a much-prized curiosity of his old schoolmaster. Upon it +appeared all the principal stars linked up into their constellations, +the shadowy linking lines forming the figures of the Imaginary Ones +associated with them in the minds of the ancients. There, on the +varnished round of the globe, ranged the Great and Little Bears, and the +Dogs, and the Archer, and the Flying Horse, the Lion, and the Crab, and +the Whale, and the Twins, and Perseus and Andromeda, and Cassiopeia. And +up there, on the dark inner side of the mighty dome, he seemed to see +them all again, and time swung back with him for a moment, and he was a +boy once more. + +And, gazing up at them all, their steady shine and many-coloured +twinklings led him to wonder as to the how and the why of them. From the +stars to their Maker was but a natural step, and so he came, simply and +naturally, to thought of the greatness of Him who swung these +innumerable worlds in their courses, and, from that, to His goodness and +justice. + +Memories of his mother came surging back upon him, and of all her +goodness and all she had taught him. She had had a mighty, simple trust +in the goodness of God, and had passed it on to her boy, though his +rough contact with the world had overworn it all to some extent. + +Still, it was all there, and now it all came back to him through the +hopeful twinkling eyes of those innumerable stars. + +"Have courage and hope!" they sang; and though all his little world, +save those two or three who knew him best, was against him, he stood +there with his face turned up to the stars, and believed in his heart +that all would yet be well. + +And when at last he turned back to things of earth, he found the stars +still twinkling in the sea, as though they would not let him go even +though he gave up looking at them. They gleamed and glanced in the +smooth-rolling waves till the deep seemed sown with phosphorescence, as +on that night in Grand Greve; the night Nance came upon him so suddenly +in the dark and he went on with her to get Grannie's medicine. + +Was it possible that that blessed night, that terrible night, was barely +forty-eight hours old? So much had happened since then, such incredible +things! It seemed weeks ago. It seemed like a dream; horrid, fantastic, +wonderfully sweet. + +Within that tiny span of hours he had come to the knowledge of Nance's +love for him. Oh those sweet, frank kisses! If he had died last night; +if the hot heads in their madness had killed him to balance Tom Hamon's +account--still he would have lived: for Nance had kissed him. + +And within the half of that short span he had been judged a murderer, +had had to flee for his life, and would, without a doubt, have lost it +but for Nance. + +She had undertaken a mighty risk for him--for him! And she had shown him +that she loved him, for she had kissed him with her heart in her lips. + +And, grateful as he was for all the rest, it was still the recollection +of those sweet kisses that he thought of most. + +So "Hope! Hope!" sang the stars, and his heart was high because his +conscience was clean and Nance had kissed him. + +When at last he crawled into his burrow, his fire was only white ashes, +and he would not trouble to relight it. + +He broke off a piece of bread, and ate it slowly, and thought of Nance, +and promised himself the larger breakfast. Then he rolled himself in his +cloak, and slept more soundly than an alderman after a civic feast. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +HOW NANCE SENT FOOD AND HOPE TO HIM + + +Next morning, when he crawled out of his burrow, Gard found everything +swathed in dense white mist. Upon which he promptly lit his fire, and in +due course enjoyed a more satisfying meal than he had eaten since he +landed on the rock. + +Then he decided to take advantage of the screening mist to explore such +parts of his prison-house as were not available to him at other times. +So he walked along the ridge, secure from observation since he could not +himself see down to the water from it, though the rushings and roarings +along the black ledges below never ceased. + +Every nook and ledge of the out-cropping rock on the south side of the +ridge was occupied by lady gulls in all stages of their maternal duties. +From the surprise they expressed at his intrusion, and the way they +stuck to their nests, they were evidently quite unused to man and his +ways, and it was all he could do to avoid stepping on them and their +squawking families as he picked his way along. + +He clambered down the eastern slope nearest Sark, and found the ground +there covered with a fairly deep soil, and green growths that were +strange to him. The soil was perforated with holes which at first he +ascribed to rabbits, but when he inserted his hand into one he got such +a nip from an unusually strong beak that he changed his mind to puffins, +and, standing quite still for a time, he presently saw the members of +the colony come creeping out behind their great red bills and scurry off +across the water in search of breakfast. + +Then the great semi-detached pinnacle below attracted him, and he +scrambled down amid the complaints of a great colony of gulls and +cormorants but found the tide still too full for him to cross the +intervening chasm. Those wonderful great green waves out of a smooth sea +came roaring along the sides of the island and met full tilt in the +chasm below him, as they leaped exultant from their conflict with the +rocks. They hurled themselves against one another in wildest fury, and +the foam of their meeting boiled white along the ledges, and dappled all +the sea. + +As he crawled through the lank wet grass and soft spongy soil, he found +himself suddenly confronted with a great barrier of fallen rocks; as +though, at some period of its existence, the north end of the island had +tapered to a gigantic peak which, in the fulness of its time, had come +down with a crash, and now lay like a titanic wall from summit to +sea-board. Huge and forbidding, of all shapes and sizes, the mighty +fragments barred his course like a menace, and he attacked them warily, +drawing himself with infinite caution from one to another; over this +one, under this, deftly between these two, lest an unwary weighting +should start them on the movement that might grind him to powder. + +The fog increased their forbidding aspect tenfold. He could not see a +foot before him, and could only worm his way among them, testing each +before he trusted it, and finding at times monsters become but mediocre +when his hand was on them. More than once he had to rest his hands on +cautiously-tried ledges and swing his legs forward and grope with his +feet for foothold, and whether the space below was trifling, or whether +it ran to incredible depth, he could not tell. + +It was a mighty relief to him to come out at last on the other side of +the wall, and to find himself on the great north slope which faced Sark, +and so was closed to him in clear weather. + +The long thin grass grew rankly here, and was beaded with moisture, but +he pushed along with an eerie feeling at the wildness of it all. + +The mist clung close about him, but had suddenly become luminous. He +felt as though he were packed loosely all round with cotton wool on +which a strong light was shining. It gave him a feeling of +light-headedness. Everything was light about him, and yet he could not +see more than a couple of feet before his face. The waves roared +hoarsely below him, and once he had unknowingly got so low down that a +monstrous white arm, reaching suddenly up out of the depths, seemed +about to lay hold on him and drag him back with it into the turmoil. + +He was panting and full of mist when at last he climbed the second great +rock barrier and rounded the corner towards the south. + +And as he sat resting there, the whiff of a westerly breeze tore a long +lane in the white shroud, and for a moment he saw, as through a +telescope, the houses of Guernsey gleaming in bright sunshine. Then it +closed again, and presently began to drift past him in strange whorls +and spirals, like hurrying ghosts wrapped hastily in filmy garments, +which loosed at times and trailed slowly over the rocks and caught and +clung to their sharp projections. Then the sun completed the rout, and +the mist-ghosts swept away towards France, harried by the west wind like +a flock of sheep before the shepherd's dog. + +In the afternoon the heat grew so intense that he was driven to the +wells in the valley of rocks for a bathe, for there was no shelter +available, and his bee-hive was like an oven. + +None of the pools was large enough for a swim, and it was more than a +man's life was worth to venture among the boiling surges of the outer +rocks. But he could at all events get under water, if it was only to sit +there and cool off. + +So he stripped, and was just about slipping into a deep still bath, +emerald green, with a fringe of amber weeds all round its almost +perpendicular sides, when, glancing down to make sure of an ultimate +footing, his eye lighted with a shock of surprise on a pair of huge eyes +looking straight up at him out of the water. They were violet in colour, +protuberant, and malevolent beyond words. + +He sat down suddenly on the baking black rock, with a cold shiver +running down his back in spite of the scorch of the sun. The utter cold +malignity of those great violet eyes, and the thought of what would have +happened if he had stepped into that pool, made him momentarily sick. + +He had seen small devil-fish in the pools in Sark, but never one +approaching this in size. He crept away at last, leaving it in +possession, and found a pool clear of boulders or caving hollows, and +sat in it with no great enjoyment, wondering if the great unwholesome +beast in the other would be likely to climb the cliff and come upon him +in the night. He thought it unlikely, but still the idea clung to him +and caused him no little discomfort. He blocked his door that night with +great green cushions, though he felt doubtful if they would be effective +against the wiles and strength of a devil-fish, if half that he had +heard of them was true. + +In the middle of the night--for he went to bed early, having nothing +else to do, except to watch the stars--he woke with a cold start, +feeling certain that hideous creature had crawled up the slope and was +feeling all round his house for an entrance. + +Certainly _something_ was moving about outside, and feeling over the +stones in an uncertain, searching kind of a way. And when you have been +wakened up from a nightmare in which staring devil-eyes played a +prominent part, _something_ may be anything, and as like as not the +owner of the eyes. + +But even devil-fishes in their most advanced stages have not yet +attained the power of human speech. If they speak to one another what a +horrible sound it must be! + +It was with a sigh of relief, and a sudden unstringing of the bow, that +he heard outside-- + +"Mr. Gard!" and with a lusty kick, which expressed some of his feeling, +he sent his doorway flying and crawled out after it. + +The myriad winking stars lifted the roof of the world and the darkness +somewhat, sufficient at all events for him to make out that it was not +Nance. + +"You, Bernel?" he queried, as the only possible alternative. + +"Yes, Mr. Gard. I've brought you some more things to eat." + +"Good lad! I'm a great trouble to you. Where is Nance? In the boat?" + +"No, she couldn't come. That Julie's watching her like a cat. It was she +and Peter stirred up the men against you. All day yesterday the whole +Island was out looking for you, dead or alive, and very much puzzled as +to what had become of you. And Julie's got a suspicion that we know. +They searched the house for you in spite of mother and Grannie, but they +won't forget Grannie in a hurry, and I don't think they'll come back," +and he laughed at the recollection of it. + +"What did Grannie do?" + +"She just looked at them from under that big black sun-bonnet, and +muttered things no one heard. But her eyes were like points of burning +sticks, and they all crept out one after another, afraid of they didn't +know what. But Julie's been on the watch all day, and would hardly let +us out of her sight. But she couldn't watch us both when we were not +together. So Nance got a bundle of things ready for you, and then went +out with another bundle and Julie followed her, and I slipped off here." + +"Bernel, I don't know how to thank you all! What should I have done +without you?" + +"You'd have been dead, most likely. It's not that they cared much for +Tom, you know, but they don't like the idea of a Sark man being killed +by a foreigner and no one paying for it." + +"But I'm not a foreigner--" + +"Yes you are, to them. Of course you're not a Frenchman, but all the +same you're not a Sark man. Good thing for you you'd lived with us and +we'd got to know you and like you." + +"Yes, that was a good thing indeed. I'm only sorry to have brought you +trouble and to be such a trouble to you." + +"If we thought you'd done it of course we wouldn't trouble. But we know +you couldn't have." + +"Nothing fresh has turned up?" + +"Nothing yet. But Nance says it will, sure. Truth must out, she says." + +"It's a weary while of coming out sometimes, Bernel. And I can't spend +the rest of my life here, you know." + +"She said you were to keep your heart up. You never know what may +happen." + +"Tell her I can stand it because of all her goodness to me. If I hadn't +her to think of I might go mad in time." + +"I've brought you a rabbit I snared. Nance cooked it." + +"That was good of her. Can you eat puffins' eggs?" + +"They want a bit of getting used to," laughed the boy. "But they're +better cooked than raw." + +"I can cook them. I found part of an old boat, and I've plugged up all +the holes in the shelter, and I only light a fire at night. Could I fish +here?" + +"Too big a sea close in. I've got some in the boat. I put out a line as +I came across. I'll leave you some." + +"And have you a bottle--or a bailing-tin? Anything I could bring home +some water from the pools in? I have to go over there every time I need +a drink, and in the dark it's not possible." + +"You can have the bailer. It's a new one and sound." + +"Now tell me, Bernel, if they find out I'm here what will they do?" + +"They might come across and try and take you, unless they cool down; and +that won't be so long as that Julie and Peter talk as they do. She makes +him do everything she tells him. He's a sheep." + +"And if they come across, what do you and Nance expect me to do?" + +"You've got my gun," said the boy simply. + +"Yes, I've got your gun. But do you expect me to kill some of them?" + +"They'd kill you," said Bernel, conclusively. On second thoughts, +however, he added, "But you needn't kill them. Wing one or two, and the +rest will let you be. With a gun I could keep all Sark from landing on +L'Etat." + +"Suppose they come in the night? How many landing-places are there?" + +"There's another at the end nighest Guernsey, but it's not easy. And +it's only low tide and half-ebb that lets you ashore here at all." + +"How about your boat?" + +"She's riding to a line. Tide's running up that way, but I'd better be +off." + +They stumbled through the darkness and the sleeping gulls, which woke in +fright, and volubly accused one another of nightmares and riotous +behaviour--and Bernel hauled in his boat, and handed Gard the tin dipper +and three good-sized bream. + +"If you can't eat them all at once, split them open and dry them in the +sun," he said. "They'll keep for a week that way." + +"Tell Nance I think of her every hour of the day, and I pray God the +truth may come out soon." + +"I'll tell her. It'll come out. She says so," and he pulled out into the +darkness and was gone. + +And the Solitary went back to his shelter, secure in the knowledge that +the tide was on the rise, and half-ebb would not be till well on into +next day. And he thought of Nance, and of Bernel, and of all the whole +matter again; white thoughts and black thoughts, but chiefly white +because of Nance, and Nance was a fact, while the black thoughts were +shadows confusing as the mist. + +He could only devoutly hope and pray that a clean wind might come and +put the shadows to flight and let the sun of truth shine through. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +HOW HE SAW STRANGE SIGHTS + + +Living thus face to face with Nature, and drawn through lack of other +occupation into unusually intimate association with her, Gard found his +lonely rock a centre of strange and novel experience. + +Situated as he was, even small things forced themselves largely upon his +observation and wrought themselves into his memory. He found it good to +lose himself for a time in these visible and tangible actualities, +rather than in useless efforts after an understanding of the mystery of +which he was the victim and centre. + +He had given over much time to pondering the subject of Tom Hamon's +death, but had come no nearer any reasonable solution of it. That +hideous doubt as to himself in the matter recurred at times, but he +always hastened to dissipate it by some other interest more practical +and palpable, lest it should bring him to ultimate belief in its +possibility, and so to madness. + +And so he spent hours watching that wonderful roaring cauldron on the +south stack where his water pools were. Other hours in study of the +social and domestic economies of gulls and cormorants. He saw families +of awkward little fawn-coloured squawkers force their way out of their +shells under his very eves, while indignant mothers told him what they +thought of him from a safe distance. + +He bathed regularly in the heat of the day, but always after careful +inspection of his chosen pool, and one day fled in haste up the black +rocks at sight of the tip of a long, quivering, flesh-coloured tentacle +coming curling round a rock in the close neighbourhood of the pool in +which he was basking. + +That monster under the rock gave him many a bad dream. It seemed to him +the incarnation of evil, and those horrible, bulging, merciless eyes +stuck like burrs in his memory. + +One day, when he had been watching the cauldron, and filling his tin +dipper at the freshwater pools, as he came to descend the black wall +leading to the valley of rocks, he witnessed a little tragedy. + +Down below, on the edge of the pool where the octopus dwelt, a silly +young cormorant was standing gazing into the water, so fascinated with +something it saw there that it forgot even to jerk its head in search of +understanding. + +Gard stood and watched. He saw a tiny pale worm-like thing come creeping +up the black rock on which the cormorant squatted. The cormorant saw it +too, and he was hungry, as all cormorants always are, even after a full +meal. So presently he made a jab at it with his curved beak, and in a +moment the pale worm had twisted itself tightly round his silly neck, +and dragged him screaming and fluttering under the water. + +Another day, when he was coming down by the break in the cliff, where +some great winter wave had bitten out such a slice that the top had come +tumbling down, he saw the monster sunning itself on the flat rock by the +side of its pool, like a huge nightmare spider. + +The moment he appeared its great eyes settled on his as though it had +been waiting only for him. And when he stopped, with a feeling of +shuddering discomfort at its hugeness--for its body seemed considerably +over a foot in width, while its arms lounging over the rocks were each +at least six feet long, and looked horribly muscular--he could have +sworn that one of the great devil-eyes winked familiarly at him, as +though the beast would say, "Come on, come on! Nice day for a bathe! +Just waiting for you!" + +He could see the loathsome body move as it breathed, swinging +comfortably in the support of its arms. + +In a fury of repulsion he stooped to pick up a rock, but when he hurled +it the last tentacle was just sliding into the pool, and it seemed to +him that it waved an ironical farewell before it disappeared. + +More than once fishing-boats hovered about his rock, but kept a safe +distance from the boiling underfalls, and he always lay in hiding till +they had gone. + +But he saw more gracious and beautiful things than these. + +As he lay one morning, looking over the ridge at the Sark headlands +shining in the sun--with a strong west wind driving the waves so briskly +that, Sark-like, they tossed their white crests into the air in angry +expostulation long before they met the rocks, and went roaring up them +in dazzling spouts of foam--his eye lighted on a gleam of unusual colour +on the racing green plain. It came again and again, and presently, as +the merry dance waxed wilder still, every white-cap as it tossed into +the air became a tiny rainbow, and the whole green plain was alive with +magical flutterings, of colours so dazzling that it seemed bestrewn with +dancing diamonds. A sight so wonderful that he found himself holding in +his! breath lest a puff should drive it all away. + +That same evening, too, was a glory of colour such as he had never +dreamed of. The setting sun was ruby; red, and the cloud-bank into which +he sank was all rimmed with red fire that seemed to corruscate in its +burning brilliancy. + +To Gard indeed, in the somewhat peculiar state of mind induced by his +sudden cutting-off from his kind and flinging back upon himself, it +seemed as though the blood-red sun had fallen into a vast consuming fire +behind that dark, fire-rimmed cloud, and that that was the end of it, +and it would never rise again. + +The sky, right away into the farthest east, was flaming red with a hint +of underlying smoke below the glow. The sea was a weltering bath of +blood, and the cliffs of Sark, save for the gleam of white foam at their +feet, shone as red as though they had just been bodily dipped in it. + +His lonely rock, when he looked round at it in wonder, was all +unfamiliarly red. There was a red fantastic glow in the very air, and he +himself was as red as though he had in very fact killed Tom Hamon, and +drenched himself with his blood. + +So startling and unnatural was it all, that he found himself wondering +fearfully if these outside things were really all blood-red, or whether +something had gone wrong with his brain and eyes, and only caused them +to look so to him alone, or whether it was indeed the end of all things +shaping itself slowly under his very eyes. And in that thought and fear +he was not by any means alone. + +But the wonderful red, which in its universality and intensity had +become overpowering and fearsome, faded at last, and he hailed its going +with a sigh of relief. His eyes and his brain were all right, he had not +killed Tom Hamon, and this was not the earth's last sunset. + +And again that night, as he sat on the ridge on sentinel duty till the +rising tide should lock the doors of his castle, the sea all round him +shone with phosphorescence; every breaking wave along the black plain +was a lambent gleam of lightning, and where they tore up the sides of +his rock they were like flames out of a fiery sea, so that he sat there +looking down upon a weltering band of nickering green and blue fires, +which clung to the black ledges and dripped slowly back into the +seething gleam below. + +It was all very strange and very awesome, and he wondered what it might +portend in the way of further marvels. + +And he had not long to wait. + +Far away in the Atlantic a cyclone had been raging, and carrying havoc +in its skirts. Now it was whirling towards Europe, and the puffins crept +deep into their holes, and the gulls circled with disconsolate cries, +and the cormorants crouched gloomily in lee of their snuggest ledges, +and all nature seemed waiting for the blow. + +Gard was awakened in the morning by the gale tearing at the massive +stones of his shelter as though it would carry them bodily into the sea. + +And when he crawled out, flat like a worm, the wind caught him even so, +and he had to grimp to earth and anchor himself by projecting pieces of +rock. + +Such seas as these he had never imagined round Sark; forgetting that +behind Guernsey lay thousands of miles of waters tortured past +endurance and racing now to escape the fury of the storm. + +A white lash of spray came over him as he lay, and soaked him to the +skin, and, turning his face to the storm, he saw through the chinks of +his eyes a great wavering white curtain between him and the sky line. +The south-west portion of his island, where his freshwater pools were, +and the valley of rocks, were all awash, the mighty waves roaring clean +over the south stack, and rushing up into the black sky in rockets of +flying spray. The tide had still some time to run, and he feared what it +might be like at its fullest. It seemed to him by no means impossible +that it might sweep the whole rock bare. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +HOW HE LIVED THROUGH THE GREAT STORM + + +It was a fortunate thing for Gard that the storm--the great storm from +which, for many a year afterwards, local events in Sark dated--came when +it did; two days after Bernel's visit and the replenishment of his +larder. For if he had been caught bare he must have starved. + +Eight whole days it lasted, with only two slight abatements which, while +they raised his hopes only to dash them, still served him mightily. + +During the first days he spent much of his time crouched in the lee of +his bee-hive, watching the terrific play of the waves on his own rock +and on the Sark headlands. + +He wondered if any other man had seen such a storm under such +conditions. For he was practically at sea on a rock; in the midst of the +turmoil, yet absolutely unaffected by it. + +On shipboard, thought of one's ship and possible consequences had always +interfered with fullest enjoyment of Nature's paroxysms. It was +impossible to detach one's thoughts completely and view matters entirely +from the outside. But here--he was sure his rock had suffered many an +equal torment--there was nothing to come between him and the elemental +frenzy. Nothing but--as the days of it ran on--a growing solicitude as +to what he was going to live on if it continued much longer. + +Never was Sark rabbit so completely demolished as was that one that +Nance had cooked and sent him. Before he had done with it he cracked the +very bones he had thrown away, for the sake of what was in them, and +finally chewed the softer parts of the bones themselves to cheat himself +into the belief that he was eating. + +That was after he had devoured every crumb of his bread, and finished +his three fishes to the extreme points of their tails. + +He was, I said, in the very midst of the turmoil yet unaffected by it. +But that was not so in some respects. + +Bodily, as we have seen, the storm bore hardly upon him, since +rabbit-bones and fish-tails can hardly be looked upon as a nutritious or +inviting dietary. + +But mentally and spiritually the mighty elemental upheaval was wholly +crushing and uplifting. + +As he cowered, with humming head, under the fierce unremitting rush of +the gale, and felt the great stones of his shelter tremble in it, and +watched the huge green hills of water, with their roaring white crests, +go sweeping past to crash in thunder on the cliffs of Sark, he felt +smaller than he had ever felt before--and that, as a rule, and if it +come not of self-abnegation through a man's own sin or folly, is +entirely to his good; possibly in the other case also. + +To feel infinitely small and helpless in the hands of an Infinitely +Great is a spiritual education to any man, and it was so to this man. + +He felt himself, in that universal chaos, no more than a speck of +helpless dust amid the whirling wheels of Nature's inexplicable +machinery, and clung the tighter to the simple fundamental facts of +which his heart was sure--behind and above all this was God, who held +all these things in His hand. And over there in Sark was Nance, the very +thought of whom was like a coal of fire in his heart, which all the +gales that ever blew, and all the soddened soaking of ceaseless rain +from above and ceaseless spray from below, could not even dim. + +For long-continued and relentless buffeting such as this tells upon any +man, no matter what his strength of mind or body to begin with; and a +perpetually soaked body is apt in time to sodden the soul, unless it +have something superhuman to cling to, as this man had in his simple +trust in God and the girl he loved. + +In all those stressful days, so far as he could see, the tides--which in +those parts rise and fall some forty feet, as you may see by the scoured +bases of the towering cliffs--seemed always at the full, the westerly +gale driving in the waters remorselessly and piling them up against the +land without cessation, and as though bent on its destruction. + +Great gouts of clotted foam flew over his head in clouds, and plastered +his rock with shivering sponges. The sheets of spray from his south-west +rocks lashed him incessantly. His shelter was as wet inside as out, as +he was himself. + +He felt empty and hungry at times, but never thirsty; his skin absorbed +moisture enough and to spare. But, chilled and clammed and starving, on +the fifth day when he had crawled into his wet burrow for such small +relief as it might offer from the ceaseless flailing without, he +broached his bottle of cognac and drank a little, and found himself the +better of it. + +On the evening of the third day his hopes had risen with a slight +slackening of the turmoil. He was not sure if the gale had really +abated, or if it was only that he was growing accustomed to it. But +under that belief, and the compulsion of a growling stomach, he crawled +precariously round to the eastern end of the rock where the puffins had +their holes, lying flat when the great gusts snatched at him as though +they were bent on hurling him into the water, and gliding on again in +the intervals. And there, with a piece of his firewood he managed to +extort half-a-dozen eggs from fiercely expostulating parents. The end of +his stick was bitten to fragments, but he got his eggs, and was amazed +at the size of them compared with that of their producers. + +The sight of the great wall of tumbled rocks on his right, and the +sudden remembrance of his previous passage over it, set him wondering if +it might not be possible to find better shelter in some of those +fissures across which he had had to swing himself by the hands on the +previous occasion. For this was the leeward side of the island, and the +huge bulk of it rose like a protecting shoulder between him and the +gale, whereas his bee-hive, on the exposed flank of the rock, got the +full force of it. So he scooped a hole in the friable black soil and +deposited his eggs in it and crawled along to the wall. + +The tumbled fragments looked much less fearsome than they had done in +the fog. He found no difficulty in clambering among them now, when he +could see clearly what he was about, and he wormed his way in and out, +and up and down, but could not light on any of those tricky spaces which +had seemed to him so dangerous before. + +And then, as he crawled under one huge slab, a black void lay before +him, of no great width but evidently deep. It took many minutes' +peering into the depths to accustom his eyes to the dimness. + +Then it seemed to him that the rough out jutting fragments below would +afford a holding, and he swung his feet cautiously down and felt round +for foothold. + +Carefully testing everything he touched, he let himself down, inch by +inch, assured that if he could go down he could certainly get up again. + +At first the gale still whistled through the crevices among the +boulders, but presently he found himself in a silence that was so mighty +a change from the ceaseless roar to which he was becoming accustomed, +that he felt as though stricken with deafness. Up above him the light +filtered down, tempered by the slab under which he had come, and enabled +him still to find precarious hand and foot hold. + +But presently his downward progress was barred by a rough flooring of +splintered fragments, and he stood panting and looked about him. + +His well was about twenty feet deep, he reckoned, and there were gaping +slits here and there which might lead in towards the rock or out towards +the sea. He had turned and twisted so much in his descent that it took +him some time to decide in which direction the sea might lie and in +which the rock. And, having settled that, he wriggled through a crevice +and wormed slowly on. + +He was almost in the dark now, and could only feel his way. But he was +used to groping in narrow places, and a spirit of investigation urged +him on. + +Half an hour's strenuous and cautious worming, and a thin trickle of +light glimmered ahead. He turned and worked his way back at once. + +There was no slit opposite the one he had tried, but presently, +half-way up the well, he made out an opening like the mouth of a small +adit. His back had been to it as he came down, and so he had missed it. + +He climbed up and in, and felt convinced in his own mind that this was +no simple work of nature. Nature had no doubt begun, but man had +certainly finished it. For the floor level was comparatively free from +harshness, and the outjutting projections of the sides and roof had been +tempered, and progress was not difficult. + +It was very narrow, however, and very low, and quite dark. He could only +drag himself along on his stomach like a worm. But he pushed on with all +the ardour of a discoverer. + +Was it silver? Was it smugglers? Or what? Wholly accidental formation he +was sure it was not, though he thought it likely that man's handiwork +had only turned Nature's to account. + +The fissure had probably been there from the beginning of time, or it +might be the result of numberless years of the slow wearing away of a +softer vein of rock, but some man at some time had lighted on it, and +followed it up, and with much labour had smoothed its natural asperities +and used it for his own purposes. And he was keen to learn what those +purposes were. + +To any ordinary man, accustomed to the ordinary amplitudes of life, and +freedom to stretch his arms and legs and raise his head and fill his +lungs with fresh air, a passage such as this would have been impossible. +Here and there, indeed, the walls widened somewhat through some fault in +the rook, bur for the most part his elbows grazed the sides each time he +moved them. + +Even he, used as he was to such conditions, began at last to feel them +oppressive. The whole mighty bulk of L'Etat seemed above and about him, +malignantly intent on crushing him out of existence. + +He knew that was only fancy. He had experienced it many times before. +But the nightmare feeling was there, and it needed all his will at times +to keep him from a panic attempt at retreat, when the insensate +rock-walls seemed absolutely settling down on him, and breathing was +none too easy. + +But going back meant literally going backwards, crawling out toes +foremost; for his elbows scraped the walls and his head the roof, and +turning was out of the question. The men who had made and used that +narrow way had undoubtedly gone with a purpose, and not for pleasure. +And he was bound to learn what that purpose was. + +So he set his teeth, and wormed himself slowly along, with pinched face +and tight-shut mouth, and nostrils opened wide to take in all the air +they could and let out as little as possible. And, even at that, he had +to lie still at times, pressed flat against the floor, to let some +fresher air trickle in above him. + +But at last he came to what he sought, though no whit of it could he see +when he got there. By the sudden cessation of the pressure on his sides +and head, he was aware of entrance into a larger space, and, with +forethought quickened by the exigences of his passage, he lay for a +moment to pant more freely and to think. + +His body was in the passage. He knew where the passage led out to. What +lay ahead he could not tell. + +If it was a chamber, as he expected, there might quite possibly be other +passages leading out of it. And so it would be well to make sure of +recognizing this one again before he loosed his hold on it. So he +pulled off one boot, and feeling carefully round the opening, placed it +just inside as a landmark. + +Then he groped on along the right-hand wall to learn the size of the +chamber, and was immediately thankful that his own passage was safely +marked, for he came on another opening, and another, and another, and +labelled them carefully in his mind, "One, two, three." + +It was truly eerie work, groping there in that dense darkness and utter +silence, and trying to the nerves even of one who had never known +himself guilty of such things. But, being there, he was determined to +learn all he could. + +He clung to his right-hand wall as to a life-rope. If he once got mazed +in a place like that he might never taste daylight and upper air again. + +Of the size of the chamber he could so far form no opinion. He would +have given much for a light. His flint and steel were indeed in his +pocket, but he was sodden through and through, and had no means whatever +of catching a spark if he struck one. + +Then, as he groped cautiously along past the third opening, his progress +was stayed, and not by rock. + +He was on his knees, his hands feeling blindly, but with infinite +enquiry, along the rough rock wall, when he stumbled suddenly over +something that lay along the ground. Dropping his hands to save himself +from falling, they lighted on that which lay below, and he started back +with an exclamation and a shudder. For what he had felt was like the +hair and face of a man. + +He crouched back against the wall, his heart thumping like a ship's +pump, and the blood belling in his ears, and sat so for very many +minutes; sat on, until, in that silent blackness, he could hear the +dull, far-away thud of the waves on the outer walls of the island. + +Then, by degrees, he pulled himself together. If it was indeed a man, he +was undoubtedly dead, and therefore harmless; and having learned this +much he would know more. + +So presently he groped forward, felt again the round head and soft hair, +and below it and beyond it a heap of what felt like small oblong +packages done up in wrappings of cloth and tied round with cord. + +He picked one up and handled it inquisitively, with a shrewd idea of +what might be, or might have been, inside. The cord was very loose, as +though the contents had shrunk since it was tied. As he fumbled with it +in the dark, it came open and left him no possible room for doubt as to +what those contents were. He sneezed till the top of his head seemed +like to lift, and the tears ran down his cheeks in an unceasing stream. +What had once been tobacco had powdered into snuff, and his rough +handling of the package had scattered it broadcast. + +He turned at last, and lay with his head in his arms against the wall +until the air should have time to clear, and meanwhile the sneezing had +quickened his wits. + +Here was possible tinder, and by means of those dried-up wrappings he +might procure a light. If it lasted but five minutes it might enable him +to solve the problem on which he had stumbled. + +He groped again for the opened package, and found it on the dead man's +face. The wrapper was of tarred cloth, almost perished with age, dry and +friable. Shaking out the rest of the snuff at arm's length, he picked +the stuff to pieces and shredded it into tinder. Then he felt about for +half-a-dozen more packages, carefully slipped their cords and emptied +out their contents, and getting out his flint and steel, flaked sparks +into the tinder till it caught and flared, and the interior of the +cavern leaped at him out of its darkness. + +He rolled up one of the empty wrappers like a torch, and lit it, and +looked about him. + +His first hasty glance fell on the dead man, and he got another shock +from the fact that his feet were lashed together with stout rope, and +probably his hands also, for they were behind his back, and he lay face +upward. His coat and short-clothes and buckled shoes spoke of long +by-gone days, and the skin of his face was brown and shrivelled, so that +the bones beneath showed grim and gaunt. + +Beyond him was a great heap of the same small packages of tobacco, and +alongside them a pile of small kegs. Gard lit another of his torches, +and stepped gingerly over to them. He sounded one or two, but found them +empty. Time had shrunk their stout timbers and tapped their contents. + +Then he held up his flickering light and looked quickly round this +prison-house which had turned into a tomb, and shivered, as a dim idea +of what it all meant came over him. + +It was a large, low, natural rock chamber, and all round the walls were +black slits which might mean it passages leading on into the bowels of +the island. To investigate them all would mean the work of many days. + +The dead man, the perished packages, the empty kegs--there was nothing +else, except his own boot lying in the mouth of the largest of the black +slits, as though anxious on its own account to be gone. + +The still air was already becoming heavy with the pungent smoke of his +torches. He stepped cautiously across to the body again, and picked a +couple of buttons from the coat. They came off in his hand, and when he +touched the buckles on the shoes they did the same. Then he turned and +made for his waiting shoe just as his last torch went out. + +The smell of the fresh salt air, when he wriggled out into the well, was +almost as good as a feast to him. He climbed hastily to the surface, +and, as he crept out from under the topmost slab, took careful note of +its position, and then scored with a piece of rock each stone which led +up to it. For, if ever he should need an inner sanctuary, here was one +to his hand, and evidently quite unknown to the present generation of +Sark men. + +He recovered his eggs, and crept round the shoulder of the rock. The +gale pounced on him like a tiger on its half-escaped prey. It beat him +flat, worried him, did its best to tear him off and fling him into the +sea. But--Heavens!--how sweet it was after the musty quiet of the +death-chamber below! + +Inch by inch, he worked his way back in the teeth of it, and crawled +spent into his bee-hive. Then, ravenous with his exertions, he broke one +of his eggs into his tin dipper, and forthwith emptied it outside, and +the gale swept away the awful smell of it. + +The next was as bad, and his hopes sank to nothing. + +The third, however, was all right. He mixed it with some cognac and +whipped it up with a stick, and the growlers inside fought over it +contentedly. + +He was almost afraid to try another. However, he could get more +to-morrow. So he broke the fourth, and found it also good, so whipped it +up with more cognac, and felt happier than he had done since he nibbled +his rabbit-bones. + +As he lay that night, and the gale howled about him more furiously than +ever, his thoughts ran constantly on the dead man lying in the silent +darkness down below. + +It was very quiet down there, and dry; but this roaring turmoil, with +its thunderous crashings and hurtling spray, was infinitely more to his +taste, wet though he was to the bone, and almost deafened with the +ceaseless uproar. For this, terrible though it was in its majestic fury, +was life, and that black stillness below was death. + +To the tune of the tumult without, he worked out the dead man's story in +his mind. + +It was long ago in the old smuggling days. Some bold free-trader of Sark +or Guernsey had lighted on that cave and used it as a storehouse. Some +too energetic revenue officer had disappeared one day and never been +heard of again. He had been surprised--by the free-traders--perhaps in +the very act of surprising them--brought over to L'Etat in a boat, been +dragged through the tunnel, or made to crawl through, perhaps, with +vicious knife-digs in the rear, and had been left bound in the darkness +till he should be otherwise disposed of. His captors had been captured +in turn, or maybe killed, and he had lain there alone and in the dark, +waiting, waiting for them to return, shouting now and again into the +muffling darkness, struggling with his bonds, growing weaker and weaker, +faint with hunger, mad with thirst, until at last he died. + +It was horrible to think of, and desperate as his own state was, he +thanked God heartily that he was not as that other. + +Morning brought no slackening of the gale. It seemed to him, if +anything, to be waxing still more furious. + +He had only two eggs left, and they might both be bad ones, but he would +not have ventured round the headland that day for all the eggs in +existence. + +He broke one presently, in answer to a clamour inside him that would +brook no denial, and found it good, and lived on it that day, and mused +between times on the strange fact that a man could feel so mightily +grateful for the difference between a bad egg and a good one. + +His sixth egg turned out a good one also, and the next day there came +another hopeful lull, which permitted him to harry the puffins once +more, and gave him a dozen chances against contingencies. + +On the eighth day the storm blew itself out, and he looked hopefully +across at the lonely and weather-beaten cliffs of Sark for the relief +which he was certain they had been aching to send him. + +The waves, however, still ran high, and, though he did not know it till +later, there was not a boat left afloat round the whole Island. The +forethoughtful and weather-wise had run them round to the Creux and +carried them through the tunnel into the roadway behind. All the rest +had been smashed and sunk and swallowed by the storm. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +HOW HE HELD THE ROCK + + +The sun blazed hot next day, and he spread himself out in it to warm, +and all his soaked things in it to dry, and blessed it for its wholesome +vigour. + +Nance or Bernel would be sure to come as soon as the tide served at +night, and he would net be sorry for a change of diet; meanwhile, he +could get along all right with the unwilling assistance of the puffins. + +The birds had all crept out of their hiding-places, and were wheeling +and diving and making up for lost time and busily discussing late events +at the tops of their voices whenever their bills were not otherwise +occupied. Where they had all hidden themselves during the storm, he +could not imagine, but there seemed to be as many of them as ever, and +they were all quite happy and quarrelsome, except the cormorants, who +were so ravenous that they could not spare a moment from their diving +and gobbling, even to quarrel with their neighbours. + +He levied on the puffins again, and, after a meal, prowled curiously +about his rock to see what damage the storm had done, but to his +surprise found almost none. + +It seemed incredible that all should be the same after the deadly +onslaught of the gale. But it was only in the valley of rocks that he +found any consequences. + +There the huge boulders had been hurled about like marbles: some had +been tossed overboard, and some, in their fantastic up-piling, spoke +eloquently of all they had suffered. + +But one grim--though to him wholly gracious--deed the storm had wrought +there. For, out of the pool where the devil-fish dwelt, its monstrous +limbs streamed up and lay over the sloping rocks, and he dared not +venture near. But, in the afternoon when he came again to look at it, +and found it still in the same attitude, something about it struck him +as odd and unusual. + +The great tentacles had never moved, so far as he could see, and there +was surely something wrong with a devil-fish that did not move. + +He hurled a stone, picked out of the landslip at the corner, and hit a +tentacle full and fair with a dull thud like leather. But the beast +never moved. + +He was suspicious of the wily one, however. The devil, he knew, was +sometimes busiest when he made least show of business. And it was not +till next morning, when he found the monster still as before, that he +ventured down to the pool and looked into it, and saw what had happened. + +The waves had hurled a huge boulder into it--and there you may see it to +this day--and it had fallen on the devil-fish and ground him flat, and +purged the rock of a horror. + +Gard examined the hideous tentacles with the curiosity of intensest +repulsion; yet could not but stand amazed at the wonderful delicacy and +finish displayed in the tiny powerful suckers with which each limb was +furnished on the under side, and the flexible muscularity of the +monstrous limbs themselves, thick as his biceps where they came out of +the pool, and tapering to a worm-like point, capable, it seemed to him, +of picking up a pin. + +He was mightily glad the beast was dead, however. It had been a blot on +Nature's handiwork, and the very thought of it a horror. + +The strenuous interlude of the storm, which, to the lonely one exposed +to its fullest fury, had seemed interminable--every shivering day the +length of many, and the black howling nights longer still--had had the +effect of relaxing somewhat his own oversight over himself and his +precautions against being seen. + +L'Etat in a furious sou'-wester is a sight worth seeing. Possibly some +telescope had been brought to bear on the foam-swept rock when he, +secure in the general bouleversement and cramped with hunger, had turned +the forbidden corner with no thought in his mind but eggs. + +Possibly again, it was sheer carelessness on his part, born once more of +the security of the storm and the recent non-necessity for concealment. + +However it came about, what happened was that, as he stood in the valley +of rocks examining his dead monster, he became suddenly aware that a +fishing-boat had crept round the open end of the valley, and that it +seemed to him much closer in than he had ever seen one before. + +He dropped prone among the boulders at once, but whether he had been +seen he could not tell--could only vituperate his own carelessness, and +hope that nothing worse might come of it. + +He lay there a very long time, and when at last he ventured to crawl to +the rocks at the seaward opening, the boat was away on the usual +fishing-grounds busy with its own concerns, and he persuaded himself +that its somewhat unusual course had been accidental. The incident, +however, braced him to his former caution, and he went no more abroad +without first carefully inspecting the surrounding waters from the +ridge. + +They would be certain to come that night, he felt sure, either Nance or +Bernel, perhaps both. Yes, he thought most likely they would both come. +They would, without doubt, be wondering how he had fared during the +storm, and would be making provision for him. + +Perhaps Nance was cooking for him at that very moment, and thinking of +him as he was of her. + +In the certain expectation of their coming, he decided he would not go +to sleep at all that night, but would crawl down to the landing-place to +welcome them. + +He wondered if that mad woman Julie had given up watching them, and, if +not, if they would be able to circumvent her again. In any case, he +hoped that if only one of them came it might be Nance. He fairly ached +for the sight and sound of her--and the feel of her little hand, and a +warm frank kiss from the lips that knew no guile. + +The sufferings of the storm became as nothing to him in this large hope +and expectation of her coming. + +The intervening hours dragged slowly. It would be half-ebb soon after +dark, he thought; and he crept up to the ridge and gazed anxiously over +at the Race between him and Breniere, to see if it showed any unusual +symptoms after the storm. + +It ran furiously enough, but, he said to himself, it would slacken on +the ebb, and they were so familiar with it that it would take more than +that to stop them coming. + +Before dark the great seas were rolling past, a little quicker than +usual, he thought, but in long, smooth undulations, which slipped, +unbroken and soundless, even along the black ledges of his rock. And +when the stars came out--brighter than ever with the burnishing of the +gale--the long black backs of the waves, and the darker hollows between, +were sown so thick with trailing gleams that he could not be certain +whether it was only star-shine or phosphorescence. + +It was all very peaceful and beautiful, however, and very welcome to +eyes that had not looked upon sun, moon, or star for eight whole nights +and days, and whose ears had grown hardened to the ceaseless clamour of +the gale. Nature, indeed, seemed preternaturally quiet, as though +exhausted with her previous violence or desirous of wiping out the +remembrance of it; just as small humanity after an outbreak endeavours +at times to purge the memory of its offence by display of unusual +amiability and sweetness. + +Eager to welcome his confidently expected visitors, Gard crept along the +ridge as soon as it was dark, and posted himself on the point which, in +the daylight, commanded the passage from Breniere. + +And he sat there so long--so long after his hopes and wishes had flown +over to Sark and hurried Bernel and Nance into a boat and landed them on +L'Etat--that the night seemed running out, and he began to fear they +were not coming, after all. + +In the troubled darkness of the Race, he caught gleams at times which +might be oar-blades or might be only the upfling from the perils below. +The tide was ebbing, and soon the black fangs with which it was strewn +would be showing. + +At times he convinced himself that the brief gleams moved; but when, to +ease his eyes of the intolerable strain, he looked up at the stars, it +seemed to him that they moved also, and so he could not be sure. + +But surely there was a gleam that seemed to move and come fitfully +towards him--or was it only star-shine dancing on the waves of the Race +which always ran against the tide? + +He stood to watch, then lost the gleam, and crouched again disappointed. + +The boat must come round Quette d'Amont, the great pile of rock that lay +off the eastern corner, and the first glimpse he could hope to get of it +in the darkness would be there. + +Then, suddenly, in that curious way in which one sometimes sees more out +of the tail of one's eye than out of the front of it, he got an +impression--and with it a start--of something moving noiselessly among +the tumbled rocks below on his left. + +It was a dark night, but the glory of the stars lifted it out of the +ebony-ruler category. It was a wide, thin, lofty darkness, but still +black enough along the sides of his rock, and down there it seemed to +him that something moved, something dim and shadowy and silent. + +He thought of the dead man in his chamber down below. Could he be in the +habit of walking of a night? He thought of ghosts, of which, if popular +belief was anything to go by, Sark was full; and there was nothing to +hinder them coming across to L'Etat for their Sabbat. And he thought of +monster devil-fish climbing, loathsome and soundless, about the dark +rocks. + +He longed for a pair of Sark eyes, and shrank down into a hollow under +the ridge to watch this thing, with something of a creepy chill between +his shoulder-blades. + +There was certainly something lighter than the surrounding darkness down +below, and it moved. It turned the corner and flitted along the slope, +slowly but surely, in the direction of his shelter. Its mode of +progression, from the little he could make out in the darkness, was just +such as he would have looked for in a huge octopus hauling itself along +by its tentacles over the out-cropping rock-bones. + +He could not rest there. He must see. He crawled along the ridge as +quietly as he could manage it, and would have felt happier, whatever it +was, spirit or monster, if he had had his gun. Now and again it stopped, +and when it stopped he lay flat to the ground and held his breath, lest +it should discover him. When it went on, he went on. + +When he came to the end of the ridge he saw that the nebulous something +had apparently stopped just where his house must be. + +And then, every sense on the strain, he heard his own name called +softly, and he laughed to himself for very joy of it, and lay still to +hear it again, and laughed once more to think that in her simplicity she +still thought of him as "Mr. Gard." He would teach her to call him +"Steen," as his mother used to do. + +Then he got up quickly and cried, as softly as herself, but with joy and +laughter in his voice-- + +"Why, Nance! My dear, I was not sure whether you were a ghost or a +devil-fish;" and he sprang down towards her. + +And then, to his amazement, he saw that she was clad only in the +clinging white garment in which he had seen her swim. + +Her next words confounded him. + +"Is Bernel here?" + +"Bernel, Nance? No, dear, he is not here. Why--" + +"Did he not get here last night?" she jerked sharply. + +"No. No one. I was hoping--" + +But she had sunk down against the great stones of the shelter, with her +hands before her face. + +"Mon Gyu, mon Gyu! Then he is dead! Oh, my poor one! My dear one!" + +"Nance! Nance! What is it all, dearest? Did Bernel try to come across +last night--" + +"Yes, yes! He would come. He said you must be starving. We were all +anxious about you--" + +"And he tried to swim across?" + +"Yes, yes! And he is drowned! Oh, my poor, poor boy!" + +She was shaking with the sudden chill of dreadful loss. He stooped, and +felt inside the shelter with a long arm for the old woollen cloak and +wrapped her carefully in it. He raked out the blanket and made her sit +with it tucked about her feet. And she was passive in his hands, with +thought as yet for nothing but her loss. + +She was shaken with broken sobs, and in the face of grief such as this +he could find no words. What could he say? All the words in the world +could not bring back the dead. + +And it was through him this great sorrow had come upon her. He seemed +fated to bring misfortune on their house. + +He wondered if she would hate him for it, though she must know he had +had no more to do with the matter than with Tom's death. + +He put a protecting arm round the old cloak, tentatively, and in some +fear lest she might resent it, but knew no other way to convey to her +what was in his heart. + +But she did not resent it, and nothing was further from her mind than +imputing any share in this loss to him. + +Some women's hearts are so wonderfully constituted that the greater the +demands upon them the more they are prepared to give. At times they give +and give beyond the bounds of reason, and yet amazingly retain their +faith and hope in the recipients of their gifts. + +But that has nothing to do with our story. Except this--that these +various demands on Nance's fortitude, incurred by her love for Stephen +Gard, far from weakening her love only made it the stronger. As that +love came more and more between her and her old surroundings, and +exacted from her sacrifice after sacrifice, the more she clung to it, +and looked to it, and let the past go. The partial ostracism brought +upon her by Gard's outspoken declaration of their mutual feeling--even +this final offering of her dearly-loved brother--these only bound her +heart to him the tighter. + +"Nance dear!" he said at last, when she had got control of herself +again. "Is it not possible to hope? He was so good a swimmer. Maybe he +found the Race too strong and was carried away by it. He may have been +picked up, and will come back as soon as he is able." + +"No," she said, with gloomy decision. "He is dead. I feared for him, for +I had been to look at the Race just before sundown, and it looked +terribly strong. But he would go--" + +"Why didn't he get a boat?" + +"Ah, mon Gyu!" and she started up wildly. "I was forgetting. I was +thinking only of myself and Bernel. There isn't a boat left alive +outside the Creux, and he couldn't get one there without them knowing. +But"--in quick excitement now, to make up for lost time--"they have seen +you here, and they may come to-night--Achochre that I am! They may be +here! Come quickly! Your gun!" and she was all on the quiver to be gone. + +Gard stooped and pulled out the gun from its hiding-place inside the +shelter. + +"Is it loaded?" she asked sharply. + +"Yes. I cleaned it to-day." + +"Take your charges with you, and do you hasten back to the place we +landed the first night. You know?" + +"I know. And you?" + +"I will go to the other landing-place. But they are not likely to come +there." + +"And if they do?" + +"I will manage them," and she slipped into the darkness with the big +cloak about her. + +Gard crept along the slope, and found a roost above the landing-place. + +His brain was in a whirl. Bernel had tried to cross to him and was +drowned. Nance had swum across. Brave girl! Wonderful girl! For +him!--and for news of Bernel. It was terrible to think of Bernel, dead +on his account--terrible! It would not be surprising if Nance hated him. +Yet, what had he done?--what could he do? He had done nothing. He could +do nothing; and his teeth ground savagely at the craziness of these wild +Sark men who had brought it all about, and at his own utter impotence. + +But Nance did not hate him. And she had swum that dreadful Race to warn +him. Brave girl! Wonderful girl! + +And then--surely the grinding of an oar, as it wrought upon the gunwale +against an ill-fitted thole-pin--out there by the Quette d'Amont! + +His eyes and ears strained into the darkness till they felt like +cracking. + +And the muffled growl of voices! + +His heart thumped so, they might have heard it. + +He must wait till he was sure they meant to come in. But they must not +come too close. + +It was an ill landing in the dark, and there were various opinions on +it. But there was no doubt as to their intentions. They were coming in. + +"Sheer off there!" cried Gard. + +Dead silence below. They had come in some doubt, but their doubts were +solved now, and there was no longer need for curbed tongues, though, +indeed, his hollow voice made some of them wonder if it was not a spirit +that spoke to them. + +"It's him!" "The man himself!" "We have him!" "In now and get him!"--was +the burden of their growls, as they hung on their oars. + +"See here, men!" said Gard, invisible even to Sark eyes, against the +solid darkness of the slope. "There has been trouble and loss enough +over this matter already, and none of it my making. Do you hear? I say +again--none of it my making. If you attempt to come ashore there will be +more trouble, and this time it will be of my making. Keep back!"--as an +impulsive one gave a tug at his oar. "If you force me to fire, your +blood be on your own heads. I give you fair warning." + +Growls from the boat carried up to him an impression of mixed doubt and +discomfort--ultimate disbelief in his possession of arms, an energetic +oath or two, and another creak of the oar. + +"Very well! Here's to show you I am armed." The report of his gun made +Nance jump, at the other side of the island, and set all the birds on +L'Etat--except the puffins, deep in their holes--circling and screaming. + +The small shot tore up the water within a couple of yards of the boat, +which backed off hastily--much to his satisfaction, for he had feared +they might rush him before he had time to reload. + +He had dropped flat after firing and recharged his gun as he lay. He was +sure they must have come armed, and feared a volley as soon as his own +discharge indicated his whereabouts. + +As a matter of fact, they had come divided as to the truth of the report +that there was a man on L'Etat--even then as to him being the man they +sought. In any case, they had expected to take him unawares, and never +dreamt of his being armed and on the watch for them. + +Thanks to Nance, he had turned the tables on them. It was they who were +taken unawares. + +But if he spoke again, he said to himself, they would be ready for him, +and their answers would probably take the rude form of bullets. So he +lay still and waited. + +There was a growling disputation in the boat. Then one spoke-- + +"See then, you, Gard! We will haff you yet, now we know where you are. +If it takes effery man and effery boat in Sark, we will haff you, now we +know where you are. You do not kill a Sark man like that and go free. +Noh--pardie!" + +"I have killed no man--" A gun rang out in the boat, and the shot +spatted on the rocks not a yard from him. + +Coming in, they knew, meant certain death for one among them, and, keen +as they were to lay hands on him, no man had any wish to be that one. + +The oars creaked away into the darkness, and he climbed to the ridge to +make sure they made no attempt on the other side. + +But discretion had prevailed. One man could not hold L'Etat from +invasion at half-a-dozen points at once. They could bide their time, and +take him by force of numbers. + +He heard them go creaking off towards the Creux, and turned and went +back along the ridge to find Nance. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +HOW ONE CAME TO HIM LIKE AN ANGEL FROM HEAVEN + + +Nance was standing by the shelter, and even in the darkness he could +tell that she was shaking, in spite of her previous vigorous incitement +to defence. + +"You--you didn't kill any of them?" she asked anxiously. + +"No, dear. I warned them off and fired into the water to show them I was +armed." + +"I was afraid. But, there were two shots." + +"One of them fired back the next time I spoke, but I was expecting it." + +"They are wicked, wicked men, and cruel." + +"They are mistaken, that's all. But it comes to much the same thing, and +I don't see," he said despondently, "how we are ever to prove it to +them." + +"They will come again." + +"Yes, they are to come back with every man and every boat in the Island. +I shall have my hands full. Are there more than these two places where +they can land?" + +"Not good places, and these only when the sea is right. But angry +men--and ready to shoot you--oh, it is wicked--" + +"We must hope the sea will keep them off, and that something may turn up +to throw some light on the other matter," he said, trying to comfort +her, though, in truth, the outlook was not hopeful, and he feared +himself that his time might be short. + +"I will stop here and help you," she said, with sudden vehemence. "They +shall not have you. They shall not! They are wicked, crazy men," and the +little cloaked figure shook again with the spirit that was in it. + +"Dear!" he said, putting his arm round her, and drawing her close. "You +must not stop. They must not know you have been here. I do not know what +the end will be. We are in God's hands, and we have done no wrong. But +if ... if the worst comes, you will remember all your life, dear, that +to one man you were as an angel from heaven. Nance! Nance! Oh, my dear, +how can I tell you all you are to me!"--and as he pressed her to him, +the bare white arms stole out of the cloak and clasped him tightly round +the neck. + +"But how are you going to get back, little one? You cannot possibly swim +that Race again?" he asked presently, holding her still in his arms and +looking down at her anxiously. + +"Yes, I can swim," she said valiantly. "I knew it would be worse than +usual, and I brought these"--and she slipped from his arms and groped on +the ground, and presently held up what felt to him in the darkness like +a pair of inflated bladders with a broad band between them. "And here is +a little bread and meat, all I could carry tied on to my head. We feared +you would be starving." + +"You should not have burdened yourself, dear. It might have drowned you. +And I have eggs--puffins'--" + +"Ach!" + +"They are better than nothing, and I beat them up with cognac. But are +you safe in the Race, Nance dear, even with those things?" + +"You cannot sink. If Bernel had only taken them! But he laughed at them, +and now--" + +He kissed her sobs away, but was full of anxiety at thought of her in +the rushing darkness of the Race. + +"I will go with you," he said eagerly, "and you will lend me your +bladders to get back with." + +"You would never get back to L'Etat in the dark"--and he knew that that +was true. "We of Sark can see, but you others--" + +"I shall be in misery till I know you are all right," he said anxiously. + +"I will run home. My things are in the gorse above Breniere. And I will +get a lantern and come down by Breniere and wave it to you." + +"Will you do that? It will be like a signal from heaven," he said +eagerly, "a signal from heaven waved by an angel from heaven." + +"And to-morrow I will go to the Vicar, and the Senechal, and the +Seigneur, if he has come home, and I will make them stop these wicked +men from coming here again." + +"Can they?" + +"They shall. They must. They are the law and it is not right." + +"It is worth trying, at any rate," he said cheerfully, as they reached +the eastern corner and struck down across his puffin-warren to the point +immediately opposite Breniere. But he had not much hope that the Vicar +and the Senechal and the Seigneur all combined would avail him, for the +men of Sark are a law unto themselves. + +"But I've found another hiding-place, Nance, where they could never find +me." + +"Here?--on L'Etat?" + +"Yes--inside. I'll show you some time, perhaps, if--" + +"Is this where you came ashore?" he asked, as she came to a stand on a +rough black shelf up which the waves hissed white and venomous. + +"We--we always landed here when we swam across," she said, with a little +break in her voice, as it came home to her again that Bernel would swim +the Race no more. + +"Nance dear, don't give up hope. He may come back yet." + +"I have only you left, and they want to kill you," she said sadly. + +"I wish I could come with you," as the dark waters swirled below them. +"It feels terrible to let you go into that all alone." + +"It is nothing. The tide is dead slack, and I have these"--swinging the +bladders in her hand--"if I get tired. Oh, if Bern had only taken +them--" + +"I will kneel on the ridge and pray for your safety till I see your +light. Dear, God keep you, and bless you for all your goodness and +courage!" + +He strained her to him again, as if he could not let her go to that +colder embrace that awaited her below. + +"I could kiss the very rocks you have stood on," he said passionately. + +She kissed him back and dropped the cloak, waited a second till a wave +had swirled by, then launched into the slack of it, and was gone. + +He stood long, peering and listening into the darkness, but heard only +the welter of the water under the black ledges below, and its scornful +hiss as it seethed through the fringing sea-weeds. + +Then at last he turned and climbed, slowly and heavily, up to the ridge; +for now he felt the strain of these last full hours, coming on top of +the longer strain of the storm; and this, and the lack of proper +feeding, made him feel weak and empty and weary. He knelt down there in +the darkness, with his face towards the Race where Nance was battling +with the hungry black waters, and he prayed for her safety as he had +never prayed for anything in his life before. + +"_God keep her! God keep her! God keep her--and bring her safe to land! +O God, keep her, keep her, keep her, and bring her safe to land!_" + +It was a monotonous little prayer, but all his heart was in it, and that +is all that makes a prayer avail. And when at last, from sheer +weariness, he sank down on to his heels in science, gazing earnestly out +into the blackness of the night, his heart prayed on though his lips no +longer moved. + +Could anything have happened to her? Could the black waters have +swallowed her? + +Anything might have happened to her. The waters might have swallowed +her, as they had Bernel. + +The thoughts would surge up behind his prayer, but he prayed them +down--again and again--and clung to his prayer and his hope. + +It seemed hours since they parted, since his last glimpse of her as the +black waters swallowed the slim white figure, and seemed to laugh +scornfully at its smallness and weakness. + +"_Oh, Nance! Nance! God keep you! God keep you! God keep you! Dear one, +God keep you! God keep you! God keep you, and bring you safe to land_!" + +He was numb with kneeling. If one had come behind him and cut off his +feet above the ankles, he would have felt no pain. He felt no bodily +sensation whatever. His body was there on the rock, but his heart was +out upon the black waters alongside Nance, struggling with her through +the belching coils, nerving her through the treacherous swirls. And his +soul--all that was most really and truly him--was agonizing in prayer +for her before the God to whom he had prayed at his mother's knee, and +whom she had taught him to look to as a friend and helper in all times +of need. + +He did not even stop--as he well might have done--to think that the +friend sought only in time of need might have reasonable ground for +complaint of neglect at other times. + +He thought of nothing but that Nance was out there battling with the +black waters--that he could not lift a finger to help her--that all he +could do was to pray for her safety with all his heart and soul. + +Then, after an age of this numb agony of waiting, a tiny bead of light +flickered on the outer darkness, as though Hope with a golden pin-point +had pricked the black curtain of despair, and let a gleam of her glory +peep through. It swung to and fro, and he fell forward with his face in +his ice-cold hands and sobbed, "Thank God! Thank God! She is safe! She +is safe!" + +When he tried to get up, his legs gave way under him, and he had to sit +and wait till they recovered. And when at last he got under way along +the ridge, he stumbled like a drunken man. + +He tangled his feet in the blanket and fell in a heap. He wondered +dimly where the cloak was--remembered Nance had worn it till she took to +the sea--and stumbled off through the dark again to find it. Nance had +worn it. To him it was sacred. + +When he got back with it, he wrapped it round him and crept into his +shelter and slept like a dog. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +HOW THE OTHERS CAME TO MAKE AN END + + +He woke next morning with a start. The sun was high, by the shadow of +his doorway; and by that same token the tide would be at half-ebb, if +not lower, and the gates of his fortress at his enemy's mercy. + +He picked up his gun, listened anxiously for sound of him, and then +crept cautiously out, with a quick glance along each slope. + +Nothing!--nothing but the cheerful sun and the cloudless sky, and the +empty blue plain of the sea, and the birds circling and diving and +squabbling as usual--and Nance's little parcel lying where she had +dropped it. He had had other things to think about last night. + +The composure of the birds reassured him somewhat. Still, they might +have landed on the other side of the rock and be lying in wait for him. + +He picked up Nance's parcel with a feeling of reverence. It might have +cost her her life, in spite of her bladders. Then he climbed cautiously +to the ridge and peered over. + +Sark lay basking in the sunshine, peaceful and placid, as if no son of +hers had ever had an ill thought of his neighbour, much less sought his +blood. + +Not a boat was in sight, and the birds on the north slope seemed as +undisturbed as their fellows on the south. + +The invasion in force needed time perhaps to prepare and would be all +the more conclusive when completed. + +Meanwhile, he would eat and watch at the same time, for he felt as empty +as a drum, and an empty man is not in the pinkest of condition for a +fight. + +Never in his life had he tasted bread so sweet!--and the strips of +boiled bacon in between came surely from a most unusual pig--a porker of +sorts, without a doubt, and of most extraordinary attainment in the nice +balancing of lean and fat, and the induing of both with vital juices of +the utmost strength and sweetness. Truly, a most celestial pig!--and he +was very hungry. + +Had he been a pagan he would most likely have offered a portion of his +slim rations as thank-offering to his gods, for they had come to him at +risk of a girl's life. As it was, he ate them very thoughtfully to the +very last crumb, and was grateful. + +They had been wrapped in a piece of white linen, and then tied tightly +in oiled cloth, and were hardly damped with sea-water. The piece of +linen and the oiled cloth and the bits of cord he folded up carefully +and put inside his coat. + +They spoke of Nance. If they had drowned her she would have gone with +them tied on to her head. He took them out again, and kissed them, and +put them back. + +Thank God, she had got through safely! Thank God! Thank God! + +He shivered in the blaze of the sun as his eyes rested on the waves of +the Race, bristling up against the run of the tide as usual, and he +thought of what it might have meant to him this morning. + +It had swallowed Bernel. In spite of his hopeful words to Nance, he +feared the brave lad was gone. And it might have swallowed Nance. And if +it had--it might as well have him, too. For it was only thought of Nance +that made life bearable to him. + +The sun wheeled his silvery dance along the waters; the day wore +on;--and still no sign of the invaders. Sark looked as utterly deserted +as it must have done in the lone days after the monks left it, when, for +two hundred years, it was given over to the birds, till de Carteret and +his merry men came across from Jersey and woke it up to life again. + +And then, of a sudden, his heart kicked within him as if it would climb +into his throat and choke him; for, round the distant point of the +Laches, a boat had stolen out, and, as he watched it anxiously, there +came another, and another, and another. They were coming! + +Four boat-loads! That ought to be enough to make full sure of him. He +wondered why they had not come sooner, for the tide was on the rise, and +the landing-places did not look tempting. + +His gun was under his hand, and his powder-flask and his little bag of +shot. He had no more preparations to make, and he had no wish to fight. + +No wish? The thought of it was hateful to him, and yet it was not in +human nature to give in without a struggle. + +But it should be all their doing. All he wanted was to be left in peace. +Every man has the right to defend his own life. + +But then, again--there could be only one end to it, he knew. So why +fight? + +They were coming to make an end of him. What good was it to make an end +of any of them? + +Even if he should succeed in keeping them off this time, the end would +come all the same, only it would be longer of coming. Why prolong it? + +The boats came bounding on like hounds at sight of the quarry. They were +well filled, four or five men in each boat, besides the oarsmen. Enough, +surely, to make an end of one lone man. + +Would they attempt to land in different places and rush him, he +wondered. Or would they content themselves with lying off and attempting +to shoot him down from a distance? The last would be the safest all +round, both for them and for him--for, landing, they would, for the +moment, be more or less at his mercy; and, snapping at him from a +distance, he would have certain chances of cover in his favour. + +The top of the ridge was flattened in places, there were even +depressions here and there, very slight, but quite enough to shelter any +one lying prone in them from bombardment from sea-level. He chose the +deepest he could find, and crawled into it, and lay, with his chin in +his hands, watching the oncoming boats. + +If he could have managed it, he would have slipped down to the rock wall +and crept into his burrow, but it was on that side the boats were +coming, and the sharp eyes on board would inevitably see him, and so get +on the track of his hiding-place. + +If the chance offered--if they left that end of the rock unspied upon +for three minutes--he would try it. + +They parted at the Quette d'Amont, two going along the south side and +two along the north. He could hear their voices, their rough jests and +brief laughter, as they crept past. + +It was an odd sensation, this, of lying there like a hunted hare, +knowing that it was him they were after. + +He pressed still closer to the rock, and did not dare to raise his head +for a look. The voices and the sound of the oars died away, came again, +died again, as the boats slowly circled the rock, every keen eye on +board, he knew, searching every nook and cranny for sign of him. + +Then a shot rang out, over there towards the south-west, and another, +and another. Tired of inaction, they were peppering his bee-hive to stir +him up in case he was fast asleep inside. + +The other boats rowed swiftly round to the firing, and he could imagine +them clustered there in a bunch, watching hopefully for him to come out; +and his blood boiled and chilled again at thought of what might have +been if he had been caught napping. + +And then, seizing his chance, he crawled to the opposite side of his +hollow, peeped over, and saw the way clear. If only they would go on +peppering the bee-hive for another minute or two, he would have time to +slip down the Sark side of his rock and get to the great wall, and so +down into his new hiding-place. + +If they tried to land, he could perhaps kill or wound two, three, +half-a-dozen, at risk of his own life. But the end would be the same. +With a dozen good shots coolly potting at him, he must go down in time, +and he had no desire either to kill or to be killed. + +He wormed himself over the edge of his hollow and hurried along to the +tumbled rocks, carrying his gun and powder-flask--not that he wanted +them, but wanted still less to leave them behind. He scrambled over, +found his marked rocks, and slipped safely under the overhanging slab. +There he could peep out without danger of being seen; and he was barely +under cover when the first boat came slowly round again, every bearded +face intent on the rock, every eye searching for sign of him. + +The other boats passed, and as each one came it seemed to him that every +eye on board looked straight up into his own, and he involuntarily +shrank down into the shadow of the slab. They could not possibly see +him, he was certain; and yet a thrill ran through him each time their +searching glances crossed his own. + +The rough jests and laughter of the boats had given way now to angry +growls at his invisibility. He could hear them cursing him as they +passed, and even casting doubts on the veracity of his visitors of the +previous night. And these latter upheld their statements with such +torrents of red-hot patois that, if they had come to grips and fought +the matter out, he would not have been in the least surprised. + +Then there came a long interval, when no boats came round. They had +probably taken their courage in their hands and landed, and were +searching the island. He dropped noiselessly into his well and clambered +up into the tunnel, and lay there with only his head out. + +And, sure enough, before long he heard the sound of big sea-boots +climbing heavily over the rock wall, and the voices of their owners as +they passed. + +What would they do next, he wondered. Would they imagine him flown, as +the result of their last night's visit? Or would they believe him still +on the island and bound to come out of his hiding-place sooner or later? +Would they give it up and go home? Or would they leave a guard to trap +him when hunger and thirst brought him out? + +He lay patiently in the mouth of his tunnel till long after the last +glimmer of light had faded from under the big slabs that covered in his +well. More than once he heard voices, and once they came so close that +he was sure they had come upon his tracks, and he crept some distance +down his tunnel to be out of sight. But the alarm proved a false one, +and the time passed very slowly. + +As he lay, he thought of the dead man with the bound hands and feet in +the silent chamber behind him, bound by the forebears of these men, who, +in turn, were seeking him, and would treat him as ruthlessly if they +found him. + +He took the lesson to heart, and braced himself to patient endurance, +though, indeed, he began to ask himself gloomily what was the use of it +all. In the end, their venomous persistence must make an end of him. One +man could not fight for ever against a whole community. + +And at that he chided himself. Not a whole community! For was not Nance +on his side--hoping and praying and working for him with all her might +and main? And her mother, and Grannie, and the Vicar, and the Doctor, +and the Senechal? He was sure they all knew him far too well to doubt +him. And all these and the Truth must surely prevail. + +But the long strain had been sore on him, and in spite of his anxieties +he fell asleep in his hole, and dreamed that the dead man came crawling +down the tunnel, and dragged him back into the chamber, and tied his +hands and feet, and went away, and left him to die there all alone. And +so strong was the impression upon him that, when he woke, he lay +wondering who had loosed his bonds, and could not make out how he had +got back into the mouth of the tunnel. + +It was still quite dark. He was stiff with lying in that cramped place. +He was strongly tempted to climb out and see how matters lay. For he +might be able to find out in the dark, whereas daylight would make him +prisoner again. + +He wanted eggs, too. Nance's provision had served him well all day, but +if he had to spend another day there something more would be welcome. + +But then it struck him that if he went up in the dark he might never be +able to find his way back again. The cleft under the slab was difficult +to hit upon even in daylight. There were scores of just similar ragged +black holes among the tumbled rocks of the great wall. + +As he lay pondering it all, the grim idea came into his head of dragging +the dead man through the tunnel, and hoisting him up outside, and +leaving him propped up among the boulders where they would be sure to +find him. + +He knew how arrantly superstitious they were, most of them. They had +been brought up on ghosts and witches and evil spirits, and, fearless as +they might be of things mortal and natural, all that bordered on the +unknown and uncanny held for them unimaginable terrors. The dead man +might serve a useful purpose after all; and the grim idea grew. + +He could decide nothing, however, till he learned if he had the rock to +himself; and he determined to take the risk of finding this out. + +He cautiously climbed the well, and by the look of the stars he judged +it still very early morning. A brooding grey darkness covered the sea; +the sky was dark even in the east. + +He slipped off his coat and left it hanging out of the cleft as a +landmark, and lowered himself silently from rock to rock, till he stood +among the rank grasses below. + +Food first--so, after patient listening for smallest sound or sign of a +watch, he crept down to the slope where the puffins' nests were, and, +wrapping his hand in Nance's napkin, managed to get out a dozen eggs +from as many different holes, in spite of the fierce objections of their +legitimate owners. + +He tied these up carefully in the blood-spotted cloth, and carried them +up to his cleft. Then he stole away like a shadow, to find out, if he +could, if there was any one else on the rock besides himself and the +dead man. + +There had been hot disputes on that head in the boats. Those who were +there for the first time had even gone the length of casting strongest +possible doubts as to whether those who were there the night before had +seen or heard anything whatever, and did not hesitate to state their +belief that they were all on a fool's errand. The others replied in +kind, and when the further question was mooted as to keeping watch all +night, the scoffers told the others to keep watch if they chose; for +themselves, they were going home to their beds. + +"Frightened of ghosts, I s'pose," growled one. + +"No more than yourself, John Drillot. But we've wasted a day on this +same fooling, and the man's not here; and for me, I doubt if he's ever +been here." + +"And what of the things we found in the shelter?" said Drillot. "Think +they came there of themselves?" + +"I don't care how they came there. It's not old cloaks and blankets we +came after. Maybe he has been here. I don't know. But he's not here now, +and I've had enough of it." + +"B'en! I'm not afraid to stop all night--if anyone'll stop with me"--and +if no one had offered he would have been just as well pleased. "Don't +know as I'd care to stop all alone." + +"Frightened of ghosts, maybe," scoffed the other. + +"You stop with me, Tom Guille, and we'll see which is frightenedest of +ghosts, you or me." + +But Tom Guille believed in ghosts as devoutly as any old woman in Sark, +and he was bound for home, no matter what the rest chose to do. + +"There's not a foot of the rock we haven't searched," said he, "and the +man's not here; so what's the use of waiting all night?" + +"Because if he's in hiding it's at night he'll come out." + +"Come out of where?" + +"Wherever he's got to." + +"That's Guernsey, most likely. His friends have arranged to lift him off +here first chance that came; and it came before we did, and you'll not +see him in these parts again, I warrant you." + +"I'll wait with you, John, if you're set on it, though I doubt Tom's +right, and the man's gone," said Peter Vaudin of La Ville. And John +Drillot found himself bound to the adventure. + +"Do we keep the boat?" asked Vaudin. + +"No ... for then one of us must sit in her all night, or she will bump +herself to pieces. You will come back for us in the morning, Philip." + +"I'll come," said Philip Guille, and presently they stood watching the +boats pulling lustily homewards, and devoutly wishing they were in them. + +Every foot of the rock, as they knew it, had already been carefully +raked over. The possible hiding-places were few. But no one knows better +than a Sark man what rocks can do in the way of slits and tunnels and +caves, and it was just this possibility that had set John Drillot to his +unwonted, and none too welcome, task. The murderer--as he deemed +Gard--might have found some place unknown to any of them, and might be +lying quietly waiting for them to go. If that was so, he must come out +sooner or later, and the chances were that he would steal out in the +night. + +So the two watchers prowled desultorily about the rock, poking again +into every place that suggested possible concealment for anything larger +than a puffin. There might be openings in the rifted basement rocks +which only the full ebb would discover, and these might lead up into +chambers where a man could lie high and dry till the tide allowed him +out again. And so they hung precariously over the waves and poked and +peered, and found nothing. + +They had clambered over the great wall more than once before Vaudin +said: "G'zamin, John, I wonder if there's any holes here big enough to +take a man?" + +"He'd have to be a little one, and this Gard's not that," and they +stood looking at the wall. "'Sides, them rocks lie on the rock itself, +and there's no depth to them." + +But Vaudin was not sure that there might not be room for a man to lie +flat under some of the big slabs, and began to poke about among them. + +"Some one's been up here," he said, pointing to one of Gard's own +scorings. + +"Bin up there four times myself," said Drillot, "an' so have all the +rest. There's no room to hide a man there, Peter. If he's hid anywhere, +he'll come out in the night. Maybe Philip Guille's right, and he's safe +in Guernsey by this. Come along to that shelter and let's have a drink." + +They had their bottle out of the boat, and they had also come upon +Gard's bottle of cognac, of which quite half remained. It was a finer +cordial than their own, so they sat drinking them turn about, and +watching the sun set, and chatting spasmodically, till it grew too dark +to do more than sit still with safety. + +They were by no means drunk, but the spirits had made them heavy, and +when John Drillot solemnly suggested that they should keep watch about, +Peter Vaudin as solemnly agreed, and offered to take first duty. + +So John curled his length inside the bee-hive, and made himself +comfortable with Gard's cloak and blanket, and was presently snoring +like a whole pig-sty. And that had a soporific effect on Peter. He had +only stopped behind to oblige John, and personally had little +expectation of anything coming of it. Moreover, the night air was +chilly. If he could get that cloak from John now! He crawled in to try, +but big John was rolled up like a caterpillar. It was warmer inside +there than out, anyway. And he could keep watch there just as well as +outside; so he propped himself up alongside John, and braced his mind to +sentry duty. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +HOW HE CAME INTO AN UNKNOWN PLACE + + +Having lodged his eggs in a ledge under the big slab, Gard stole away to +learn, if he could, if he had the rock all to himself. + +He wanted water, and he wanted his bottle of cognac and the tin dipper; +for puffins' eggs, while not unpalatable beaten up with cognac, are of a +flavour calculated to exercise the strongest stomach when eaten raw. + +He feared the men would have made away with all his small possessions, +but he could only try. So he stole like a shadow round the crown of the +ridge and along towards the shelter, standing at times motionless for +whole minutes till the rush of the waves below should pass and give him +chance of hearing. + +But on L'Etat the sound of many waters never ceases night or day, and +the night wind hummed among the stones of the shelter, and, as it +happened, John Drillot had just lurched over in avoidance of a lump of +rock which was intruding on his comfort, and in so doing had lodged his +heavy boot in Peter Vaudin's ribs, and so their sonorous duet was +stilled, and neither of them was very sound asleep, when Gard, after +listening anxiously and hearing nothing, dropped on his hands and knees +and felt cautiously inside. + +Peter felt the blind hand groping in the dark, and was wide awake in an +instant. He hurled himself at the intruder, as well as a man could who +had been lying back against the wall half asleep a moment before; and +Gard turned and sped away along the side of the ridge, with Peter at his +heels and John Drillot thundering ponderously in the rear. + +"What is't, Peter boy?" shouted John. + +"It's him. This way!" yelled Peter, out of the dimness in front, as he +stumbled and staggered along the ragged inadequacies of the ridge. + +If Gard had had time for consideration, he would have led them a chase +elsewhere first, but, in the sudden upsetting of lighting on what he had +persuaded himself was not there, he lost his head and made straight for +cover. + +Peter Vaudin was at the base of the rock wall as he wriggled silently +under the big slab, and it was only by a violent jerk that he got his +foot clear of Peter's grip. And Peter, strung to the occasion, kept his +hand on the spot where the foot had disappeared, and waited a moment for +John Drillot to come up before he followed it. + +"Gone in here," he jerked, as he climbed cautiously up. + +"Can't have gone far, then," panted John. "Sure it was him?" + +"Had him by the foot, but he got loose. Here we are," as he poked about, +and came at last on the hole below the slab. "Come on, John ... can't be +far away.... Big hole"--as he kicked about down below--"no bottom, far +as I can see." + +"Best wait for daylight, to see where we're getting." + +"Oui gia! Man doux, it's not me's going down here till I know what's +below." + +So they sat and kicked their heels and waited for the day, certain in +their own minds that their quarry was run to earth and as good as +caught. + +Gard had swept down both his coat and his cloth full of eggs in his +sudden entrance. He stood at the bottom of the well to see if they would +follow, while Peter's long legs kicked about for foothold. He heard them +decide to wait for daylight, and then he noiselessly picked up his coat +and his soppy bundle of broken eggs, pushed them into the tunnel, and +crawled in after them. + +He was trapped, indeed, but he doubted very much if any fisherman on +Sark would venture down that tunnel. They were brawny men, used to leg +and elbow room, and, as a rule, heartily detested anything in the shape +of underground adventure. They might, of course, get over some miners to +explore for them. Or they might content themselves with sitting down on +top of his hole until he was starved out. In any case, his rope was +nearly run; but yet he was not disposed to shorten it by so much as an +inch. + +As he wormed his way along the tunnel, the recollection of those other +openings off the dead man's cave came back to him. He would try them. He +pushed on with a spurt of hope. + +The tunnel was not nearly so long now that he knew where he was going; +in fact, now that nothing but it stood between him and capture, it +seemed woefully inadequate. + +When his head and elbows no longer grazed rock he dropped his coat and +crawled into the chamber. He felt his way round to the dried packages, +and cautiously emptied half-a-dozen and prepared them for his use. + +This set him sneezing so violently that it seemed impossible that the +watchers outside should not hear him. It also gave him an idea. + +He struck a light and kindled one of his torches, and the dead man +leaped out of the darkness at him as before. That gave him another idea. + +Propping up his light on the floor, he emptied package after package of +the powdered tobacco into the tunnel, and wafted it down towards the +entrance with his jacket. Then with his knife he cut the lashings from +the dead man's hands and feet, and carried him across--he was very +light, for all his substance had long since withered out of him--and +laid him in the tunnel as though he was making his way out. + +If he knew anything of Sark men and miners, he felt fairly secure for +some time to come, so he sat himself down, as far as possible from the +snuff, and made such a meal as was possible off puffins' eggs, mixed +good and bad and unredeemed by any palliating odour and flavour. They +were not appetising, but they stayed his stomach for the time being. + +It was only then that he remembered that he had left his gun and +powder-flask behind him. He had placed them on a ledge just inside the +mouth of the tunnel, and in his haste had forgotten to pick them up. He +had no intention of using them, however, and he would not go back for +them. + +When his scanty meal was done, he cautiously emptied a number of the +packages and rolled them into torches, and deliberated as to which of +the black openings he should attempt first. + +That one opposite, out of which the dead man's legs sprawled +grotesquely, was the one by which he had entered. This one, then, near +which he sat, must run on towards the centre of the island--if it ran on +at all; and, since all were equally unknown and hopeful, he would try +this first. + +His tarred paper torches, though they burned with a clear flame, gave +forth a somewhat pungent odour, so he kicked one of the small barrels to +pieces, and with three of the staves and a piece of string made a holder +which would carry the torch upright, and also permit him to lay it on +the ground or push it in front of him, if need be. + +The first tunnel ran in about thirty feet, and then the slant of the +roof met the floor at so sharp an angle that further passage was +impossible. + +The second, third, and fourth the same; and he began to fear they were +all blind alleys leading nowhere. + +The openings near his own entrance tunnel he had left till the last, +since they obviously led outwards. + +Two of them shut down in the same way as all the others, and it was only +the dogged determination to leave no chance untried that drove him, with +a fresh supply of torches, down the last one of all, the one alongside +that out of which the dead man's legs projected. + +It took a turn to the left within a dozen feet of the entrance, and, +like the rest, it presently narrowed down through a slope in the roof; +but just at its narrowest, when he feared he had come to the end, there +came a dip in the flooring corresponding to the slope up above, and he +found he could wriggle through. Once through, the passage widened and +continued to widen, and the going became very rough and broken, with +piles of ragged rock and deep black pitfalls in between. + +Then, of a sudden, he saw the walls and roof of his passage fall away, +and his light flickered feebly in the darkness of a vast place, and he +crouched on the rock up which he had climbed, and sat in wonder. + +Somewhere below him he could hear the slow rise and fall of water, dull +and heavy and without any splash, like the dumb breathing of a captive +monster. + +And every now and again there came, from somewhere beyond, a low dull +thud, like the blow of a padded hammer, and a distant subdued rustle +along the outside of the darkness. He knew it was not inside the place +he was in, for he could hear the soft rise and fall of the water quite +clearly, but these other sounds came to him from a distance, muted as +though his ears had suddenly gone deaf. + +"Those dull blows," he said to himself, "are the waves on the outside of +L'Etat. That low rustling is the rush of them along the lower rocks. The +water inside here probably comes in through some openings below +tide-level. I am quite safe here, even if they get past the dead man's +cave--quite safe until I starve. Unless there are fish to be had"--and +he felt a spark of hope. "And maybe there are devil-fish"--and he +shivered and glanced below and about him fearfully. + +His homely torch did no more than faintly illumine the rock he sat on +and those close at hand, and cast a gigantic uncouth shadow of himself +on the rough wall behind. All beyond was solid darkness, blacker even +than a black Sark night. + +He sat wondering vaguely if any before him had penetrated to that +strange place. It was odd and uncanny to feel that his eyes were the +very first to look upon it. And then, away in front, and apparently at a +great distance above him, he became aware of a difference in the solid +darkness. It seemed almost as though it had thinned. His eye had seemed +able for a moment to carry beyond the narrow circle of the torch, but +when he peered into the void to see what this might mean, it all seemed +solid as before. + +As his straining eyes sought relief in something visible, their +side-glance caught once more that same impression of movement in the +darkness. And presently it came again and stronger--a strange greenish +fluttering up in the roof--very faint, as though the roof were smoke on +which a soft green light played for a moment and vanished. + +But by degrees the light grew, though at no time did it become more than +a wan ghost of a light, and from its curious fluttering he judged that +it came through water. + +Reasoning from the trend of the cavern, he came to the conclusion that +somewhere on that further side there were openings into the deep water +beyond, on which the sunlight played and struck at times into the cave, +and he was keen to look more closely into it. + +He lowered his torch to the side of his rock, and its feeble flicker +fell on a chaos of rocks below. He looked long and cautiously for supple +yellow arms or tiny whip-like threads which might coil suddenly round +his legs and drag him to hideous death. + +But he saw nothing of the kind. The rocks were dry and bare, not a +limpet nor a sea-weed visible, and leaving his jacket for a landmark as +before, he slowly let himself down from one huge boulder to another, +till he found himself climbing another great pile in front. + +When at last his head rose above this ridge, he almost rolled over at +the sight of two huge green eyes blinking lazily at him out of the +darkness in front--two great openings far below sea-level, through which +filtered dimly the wavering green light whose refractions fluttered in +the roof. + +The vast trough below him heaved gently now and then, with a ponderous +solemnity which filled him with awe. He felt himself an intruder. He +felt like a fly creeping about a sleeping tiger. He hardly dared to +breathe, lest the brooding spirit of the place should rise suddenly out +of some dark corner and squash him on his rock as one does a crawling +insect; and his anxious eyes swept to and fro for the smallest sign of +danger. + +But, plucking up courage from immunity, and dreading to be caught in the +dark in that weird place, he crawled over the boulders towards the side +wall of the cavern to get as near to those openings as possible. From +the very slight movement of the water, which was ever on the boil round +the outside of L'Etat, he judged them deep down among the roots of the +island, far below the turmoil of the surface, but he must see and make +sure. + +With infinite toil and many a scrape and bruise, he got round at last, +and could look right down into the dim green depths, and what he saw +there filled him with sickening fear. + +The water was crystal clear, and in through the nearer opening, as he +looked, a huge octopus propelled itself in leisurely fashion, its great +tentacles streaming out behind, its hideous protruding eyes searching +eagerly for prey. + +Just inside the opening it gathered itself together for a moment, and +seemed to look so meaningly right up into his eyes that he found himself +shrinking behind a rock lest it should see him. Then it clamped itself +to the side of the opening and spread wide its arms for anything that +might come its way. + +He watched it, fascinated. He saw fishes large and small unconsciously +touch the quivering tentacles, which on the instant twisted round them +and dragged them in to the rending beak below the hideous eyes. And then +he saw another similar monster come floating in on similar quest, and in +a moment they were locked in deadly fight--such a writhing and coiling +and straining and twisting of monstrous fleshy limbs, which swelled and +thrilled, and loosed and gripped, with venom past believing--such a +clamping to this rock and that--such tremendous efforts at dislodgment. + +It was a nightmare. It sickened him. He turned and crawled feebly away, +anxious only now to get out of this awful place without falling foul of +any similar monsters among the rocks. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +HOW NANCE WATCHED FROM AFAR + + +From the headland above Breniere, Nance had watched the boats go +plunging across to L'Etat. + +Very early that morning she had sped across the Coupee and up the long +roads to the Seigneurie, but the Seigneur was away in Guernsey still, +busied on the vital matter of raising still more money for the mines in +which he was a firm believer, mortgaging his Seigneurie for the purpose, +assured in his own mind that all would be well in the end. + +Then to the Vicar and the Senechal, and these set off at once for the +harbour, but found themselves powerless in the face of public opinion. +Argument and remonstrance alike fell on deaf ears. The Vicar appealed to +their sense of right; the Senechal forbade their going. But their minds +were doggedly set on it, and they went. + +"I shall hold you to account," stormed Philip Guille. + +"B'en, M. le Senechal, we'll pay it all among us," and away they went; +and back to her look-out by Breniere went Nance, and the Vicar with her +for comfort in this dark hour. + +They watched the boats circling the rock, round and round. They heard +the firing, and Nance flung herself on the ground in an agony of +weeping, sure that the end had come. For they could only be firing at +Gard, and what could one man do against so many? + +"They have killed him," she moaned. + +And the Vicar could only tighten his pale lips, and smooth her hair with +his thin white hand, as she writhed on the ground at his side. For he +could but think she was right. They were good shots, the Sark men, and +it needs but one bullet to kill a man. + +If Nance had looked a moment longer she might have seen Gard slip down +from the ridge to the wall, but the bombardment of the shelter, which +gave him his chance, made an end of her hopes, and her face was hidden +in the turf. + +The Vicar's sight was not keen enough to see clearly what was passing. +But when the men landed on the rock, and overran it in their search, he +could not fail to see their figures on the ridge against the sky, and an +exclamation of surprise roused Nance. + +"What is it?" she jerked. + +"They have landed over there. They seem to be searching the rock." + +"Then--" and she sat up suddenly and gazed intently across at L'Etat, +and then sprang to her feet, a new creature. "For, see you, Mr +Cachemaille," she cried, "if they had killed him they would not be +searching for him, nenni-gia!" + +"That is true, child," said the Vicar hopefully, and then, less +hopefully, "but where shall a man hide on L'Etat?" + +"Ah now! I remember. Just as I was leaving him last night, he told me--" + +"As you were leaving him--last night?" and the old man gazed at her as +though he doubted his ears or her right senses. + +"But yes," she cried impatiently. "I swam across there last night to see +if Bernel was there and to take him some food. But you are not to tell +that to any one. And he told me--" + +"You swam across?--to L'Etat?" + +"Yes, yes! We have done it many times, and, besides, I had the +bladders--" + +The Vicar shook his head helplessly. She forgot to explain so much that +he did not understand. But he grasped at one thread. + +"And Bernel?" + +"Ah, my poor Bernel! He is drowned," she said, with a heave of the +breast, but with her eyes intent on L'Etat. "I wanted him to take the +bladders, but he would not; and it was the first night after the storm, +you see, and the waves were big still, and he never got to L'Etat, and +he never came back; so, you see--" + +"Truly, you are being sorely tried, my child. But your brother was a +better swimmer than most. May we not hope--" + +But she shook her head, intent on the doings on the rock, and full, for +the moment, of the hope she could draw from Gard's hint about a +hiding-place of which she knew nothing. For if she and Bernel had never +discovered it, how should these others? And obviously they were +searching, for they prowled about the rock like ants, and poked here and +there, and wandered on and came back. And if they still sought they had +not yet found; and so there was a new spring of hope in her heart. + +"Yes, truly, they are searching," she murmured, and forgot the Vicar +and all else. + +He tried to induce her to go back home with him, but she would not move. +For the moment all her hope in life was in peril on the rock, and she +must see all that went on; and finally he had to leave her there, and +she hardly knew that he had gone. She wanted only to be left alone, to +nurse her new-born hope and watch in fear and trembling for any symptom +of its overthrow. + +But she was not to be left in peace, for Madame Julie had heard the +firing also, and had come round the headland by the miners' cottages, +exulting in the fact that her enemy was run to earth at last and was +meeting righteous punishment. + +And as she prowled about there, chafing at the delay in the return of +the boats, she came suddenly on Nance gazing out at L'Etat with a +face--not, as Julie would have expected, downcast and woe-begone, but +full of eager expectancy. And the sight of her, and in such case, +stirred Julie to venom. + +"Ah then--there you are, mademoiselle, listening to the end of your +fancy gentleman! And the right end, too, ma foi! A man that goes +knocking his neighbours on the head--it's right he should be shot like a +rabbit--" + +Nance's face quivered, but she did not even look round. + +"You'll see them coming back presently, and they'll bring his body back +with them in the boat, all full of holes. And then I'll feel that my +Tom's paid for--" + +"Do you hear?" she cried, planting herself in front of Nance, and +jerking her hands up and down in her excitement and the exaspeiation of +receiving no response. "Do you hear me--you? Or are you gone crazy for +love of your murderer?"--and she made as though to lay wild hands on the +girl. + +"You are wicked! You are evil! You are a devil!" said Nance through her +little white teeth, and looked so as though she might fly at her that +Julie drew off. + +"Aha--spitfire!--wildcat!--you would bite?" + +Nance, all ashake with disgust, stooped suddenly and picked up a lump of +rock. + +"Go!" she said, in a voice of such concentrated fury that it was little +more than a whisper. "Go!--before I do you ill;" and she looked so like +it that Julie turned and fled, expecting the rock between her shoulders +at every step. + +But the rock was on the ground, and Nance was intent again on L'Etat. + +She stood there watching, until she saw the boats put off, and then she +turned and sped like a rabbit--across the waste lands--across the +Coupee--over Clos Bourel fields into Dixcart--over Hog's Back to the +Creux. + +She ran through the tunnel just as the boats came up, and her eyes were +wide with expectant fear, as they swept them hungrily. + +"What have you done then, out there, Philip Vaudin?" she cried, as his +boat's nose grated on the shingle. + +"Pardi, ma garche, we have done nothing." + +"But the shooting?" + +"Some one shot at the shelter to see if he was inside, and the rest shot +because they thought there must be something to shoot at." + +"And you have not got him?" asked another disappointedly. + +"Never even seen him." + +"Ah ba!" + +"Either he's gone or he's under cover, though, ma fe, I don't know where +he'd find it on L'Etat," and Nance's heart beat hopefully. "However, +John Drillot and Peter Vaudin are stopping the night in case he is still +there and ventures out of his hole," and her heart sank again, and +kicked rebelliously that a man should be hunted thus, like a rabbit. + +She spent a night of misery, wondering what was happening on L'Etat, and +was at her post above Breniere as soon as it was light. + +She saw Philip Vaudin come round from the Creux in his boat and run +across to the rock, and almost as soon as he had disappeared round +Quette d'Amont, he came speeding back, alone, and not to the harbour, +but straight to the fishermen's rough landing-place inside Breniere. + +"What is it then, Philip?" she asked anxiously, as he hauled himself up +the rocks on to the turf. + +"I've come for two miners," he panted, for he had come quickly. "They've +run him to earth in a hole, but they won't either of them go in after +him, and they want some one who will." + +"Ah, then!" + +"Yes. He came out in the night, and they chased him, but he got into his +hole, and they're sitting on it ever since," and he hurried away through +the waste of gorse and bracken to the miners' cottages. + +Volunteers were evidently not over plentiful. It was a considerable time +before he came back with a Welshman, Evan Morgan, and a young +Cornishman, John Trevna, and neither of them seemed over eager for the +job. + +"For, see you," had been Morgan's view, "coing in a hole after a man +what hass a gun iss not a nice pissness, no inteet!" and the Cornishman +agreed with him. + +However, they put off, and Nance crouched in the bracken and watched all +their doings. + +She had long since caught sight of John Drillot and Peter Vaudin sitting +on the rock wall, and wondered what kind of a hiding-place Gard could +possibly have found therein. A poor one, she feared, and that the end +would be quick. + +The boat disappeared round the corner, and presently she saw the three +men join the others at the wall, and they all clustered there and +talked, and then one by one they disappeared into the wall itself, and +she sat watching in fear and trembling. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +HOW TWO WENT IN AND THREE CAME OUT + + +"It iss better to sit here two, three days till he comse out than to go +in and get yourself killt, yes inteet!" was the burden of Evan Morgan's +answer to all their arguments for a speedy assault. And "Iss, sure!" was +Trevna's curt, complete endorsement. + +But when, at John Drillot's suggestion, they had squeezed under the slab +to have a look at what lay below, and had peered down the slit that Gard +tried first, and had then lighted on the tunnel, and had found the gun +and powder-flask jammed in a crevice--that put a different face on the +matter. + +And, after prolonged discussion as to the proper method of procedure, +especially in the matter of precedence, it was at last arranged that +Evan Morgan should go first with his miner's lamp, and that John Trevna +should follow close behind, carrying the gun. + +"And iss it understood that I shoot him if I see him?" asked Trevna, to +make sure of his ground and make his conscience easy. + +"Pardi, yes, mon gars! Shoot straight, and the Island will thank you," +asserted John Drillot. + +"Ant for Heaven's sake, John Trevna, see you ton't shoot me behint by +mistake," urged Evan Morgan; and they disappeared slowly into the +tunnel, while the other two stood waiting expectantly in the well. + +Accustomed as they were to narrow places, this long worm-hole of a +tunnel, with the doubtful possibilities that lay beyond it, seemed as +endless to the militant members of the expedition as it did to the +waiters outside. + +Occasionally a hollow sound came booming down the tunnel, when one or +other grunted out a word of objurgation on the narrowness of things, but +for the most part they wormed along in silence, Morgan shifting forward +his lamp, foot by foot, and straining his eyes into the darkness ahead, +Trevna close behind with his gun at full cock and ready for instant +action. + +"Gad'rabotin, but they take their time, those two!" said John Drillot, +impatiently, outside. + +"It iss going right through to Wailee, I do think," growled Evan Morgan +inside. + +And it was just after that that there broke out in the depths of the +tunnel a commotion so extraordinary that the listeners outside could +make nothing at all of it, and could only lurch about in amazement and +climb up and push their heads into the tunnel, and wonder what it all +meant. Then, in the midst of the turmoil, there came the thunderous +bellow of the gun, and after a time a trickle of thin blue smoke floated +lazily out and hung about the well; and the men outside sniffed +appreciatively, and said, "Ch'est b'en!" and waited hopefully. + +Evan Morgan, shifting forward his light, got an impression of something +in the narrow way in front, and suddenly he was taken with the biggest +fit of sneezing he had ever had in his life. He banged down the lamp +and threw up his head till it cracked against the roof, then banged his +chin against the floor, and finally propped himself, like a sick dog, on +his two front paws, and sneezed and sneezed and sneezed for dear life. + +Then John Trevna began. He had the sense to lay down his gun, or Morgan +might have got the charge in his back. And so they sneezed in concert, +until their heads were clearer than they had been for many a day. And +the sound of it all to those outside was like the sound of mortal +combat. + +Then Morgan, wiping his streaming eyes on the sleeve of his coat, in a +state of extreme exhaustion, caught sight of that which lay just beyond +him, and he saw that it was a man crawling down the tunnel to meet him. + +"Shoot, John, shoot! He iss here," he yelled, and laid himself flat to +give Trevna his chance. + +And Trevna, between two sneezes, picked up his gun, though he could see +nothing to shoot at, and ran the barrel forward above Morgan's head and +fired, and the roar of it in that confined space came near to deafening +them both. + +The smoke hung thick and choked them, as they gasped it in in gulps +while they sneezed, and the light had gone out with the concussion. + +They lay for a time exhausted. Then the atmosphere cleared somewhat, and +they lay in the thick darkness straining their ears for any sound, but +heard nothing. + +"What did you see, Evan Morgan?" whispered Trevna at last. + +"It wass a man." + +"Then I have killed him, for he does not move. Can you light the lamp?" + +"I can not--in here. I am coing out. I haf hat enough of this." + +"We must take him out, too." + +"You can tek him, then, John Trevna. I haf hat enough of him and this +hole." + +"Don't be a fool, Evan Morgan. If it wass a man, and he got that load in +him as close as that, he iss deader than Tom Hamon." + +"Well, you can go an' see. I am coing out," and he began to wriggle +backwards, and Trevna was fain to go too. + +But presently they came to one of the somewhat wider places where the +wall had fallen away, and Trevna squeezed himself tightly into this. + +"You go on, then, Evan Morgan," he said, "if you can get past, and I +will go back and bring him out." + +"You are a fool, John Trevna, to meddle with him any more. Iff the man +iss dead, he iss just as well left there." + +"If he iss dead he cannot harm me, and I would like to see the man I +have killed." + +"Ugh!" grunted Morgan, and crawled on, legs first. + +Trevna wormed along up the tunnel, groping cautiously in front of him at +each forward lurch, and at last his hands fell on what he sought, and at +the same moment he began sneezing again. + +It would be no easy job dragging a dead man all down that tunnel, he +thought. But when, after cautious feeling here and there, he got a grip +of the man's coat collar, to his surprise it came away in his hand, but +at the same time it seemed to him that the body was extraordinarily +light. + +He tried again with a fresh grip on the coat, but it tore like paper, +and, after thinking it over, he unstrapped his leather belt and got it +round the man below the armpits, and so was able to haul him slowly +along. + +When Evan Morgan's wriggling legs came slowly out of the tunnel, John +Drillot and Peter Vaudin were almost dancing with excitement, and their +first surprise was the sight of him when, by rights, John Trevna should +have been the one to come out first. + +"Well then? What have you done? And where is John Trevna?" cried John +Drillot. + +"Ach! He iss a fool. He hass shot the man and now he will pring him out +when he woult pe much petter buried where he iss." + +"He's quite right. What was all the noise about?" + +"That wass the shooting." + +"Before that. You all seemed to be howling at once." + +"That wass the sneezing. It iss full of sneezing down there," and his +red eyes still showed the effect of it. + +It was a long time before they heard the laboured sounds of Trevna's +coming. But at last his legs wriggled out, then his body, then with a +lurch he hauled up to the mouth of the tunnel that which he had brought +with him. And at sight of it they all started back against the sides of +the well, with various cries but equal amazement. + +"O mon Gyu!" cried Peter Vaudin. + +"Thousand devils!" cried John Drillot. + +"Heavens an' earth!" gasped Evan Morgan. + +John Trevna gazed open-mouthed, for he had little breath left in him. + +And from the black mouth of the tunnel the strange and terrible figure +of the dead man looked quietly down at them and filled them with +amazement. + +Trevna's heavy charge had blown in the top of the skull. The shrunken +yellow face wore the gaunt eager look of one who had died the slow death +of starvation. It seemed to be trying to get at them to bite and rend +them. + +Peter Vaudin was the first to climb the wall behind him, but the rest +were close at his heels, and hustled him up through the crack under the +slab. + +Peter struck down towards the landing-place the moment he had wriggled +through. + +"Stop then, Peter," called John Drillot, in a low insistent voice, lest +that dreadful thing below should hear him. + +"Not me! I've had enough, John Drillot. That is not what we came for ... +and I had hold of its leg last night," and he shivered at the +recollection, and the thought that it might have turned on him and +gripped him with its grisly hands. + +"I don't know what it is," began John Drillot, "but--" + +"It's the man I shot inside there," said Trevna. + +"That man hass peen det a hundert years," said Morgan. + +"All the same, he was running about last night," said Peter, "and I had +hold of his leg"--with another shiver. + +"He's dead enough now, anyway," said Drillot. + +"Eh b'en! leave him where he is, and let's get away. I've heard say +there were ghosts on L'Etat, and now I know it. No good comes of +meddling with these things." + +"But we ought to take him with us." + +"Take him with us!" almost shrieked Peter. "And let him loose on Sark! +Why then?" + +"Whatever he was last night, he's dead enough now.... Will you help me +to get him up, John Trevna?" + +"Iss, sure! He's got my belt." + +"Not in my boat, John Drillot," cried Peter. "Not in my boat. I've had +enough of him, pardi!" and he set off at speed for the boat. + +"Don't be a fool, Peter. You, Evan Morgan, run down and stop him going. +Come on, John Trevna," and after peering cautiously down to make sure +the dead man had not moved, they dropped into the well again. + +The shrivelled figure was very light, as Trevna had found. It was only +their repugnance at handling it that made their task a heavy one. One +above and one below, they managed at last to get it up above ground, and +then John Trevna slipped his belt to its middle, and carried it with one +hand down the slope to the boat. + +There they found Evan Morgan holding the approach to the landing-place +against Peter, with a lump of rock, while Philip, in the boat below, +stood shouting at them to know what was the matter. + +At sight of the others and their burden, however, he had no eyes for +anything else. + +"What have you got there, John Drillot?" + +"A dead man." + +"Aw, then! That's not Gard." + +"It's the only man here, anyway. Pull close up, Philip--" + +"Not in my boat, John Drillot!" from Peter. + +"We must take this to the Senechal," said John angrily. "If you don't +want to come you can wait here. If you don't make less noise, I will +knock you on the head myself," and he jumped down into the boat, and +took the dead man from Trevna, and laid him carefully in the bows. The +others jumped in, and Peter, sooner than be knocked on the head or left +behind, sulkily followed, and sat himself on the extreme edge of the +stern as far away from the dead man as he could get. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +HOW JULIE MEDITATED EVIL + + +Nance had crouched all the morning, in the bracken above Breniere, on +the knife-edge of expectancy. And behind her, at a safe distance, +crouched Julie Hamon, watching Nance and L'Etat at the same time, as a +cat in the shade watches a sparrow playing in the sunshine. + +"What will be the end? What will be the end?" sighed Nance. They had all +gone down out of sight, across there, and it was terrible to sit here +waiting, waiting, waiting for what she feared. + +If they had indeed run Gard to his hiding-place, as Philip Vaudin had +said, there could be but one possible end to it; and she sat, sad-eyed +and wistful, waiting for them to come up again. + +It seemed as if they would never come, and she never took her eyes off +the rock wall on L'Etat. + +And then at last she sprang to her feet. One of them had come up again. +She could not see which. Then the others appeared, and they seemed to +stand talking. Then one went off round the slope and another ran after +him, and the other two went back into the rock wall. + +What could they be at? She stood gazing intently. + +The two came up again, and--yes--they carried something, or one of them +did, and they two went off round the corner also. And presently she saw +the boat coming round, and saw by its head that it was for the Creux. +She turned and sped across by the same way as yesterday, and Julie +followed her at a safe distance. And it seemed to Nance, as she hurried +through the familiar hedge-gaps and lanes and across the headlands, that +the world had lost its brightness, and that life was desperately hard +and trying. + +On Derrible Head there might be a chance of seeing. She ran up to the +highest point by the old cannon, just as the boat was coming in under La +Conchee. + +And--oh, mon Dieu! mon Dieu! yes--there, in the bows, lay the body of a +man!--and the tears she had kept back all day broke out now in a fury of +weeping. She could hardly see, but she ran on, falling at times and +bruising herself, staggering to her feet again, stumbling blindly +through a mist of tears. + +The boat was drawn up by the time she got there, and a curious crowd +surrounded it. She pushed through. She must see. + +And then the weight fell off her heart, and it was all she could do to +keep from screaming. For this poor thing, whatever it was, was not +Stephen Gard and never had been. + +She wanted to sing and dance and scream her joy aloud. They had not +found him. + +"What is this, John Drillot?" asked Julie, alongside her, black with +anger, as she pointed to the body. + +"Ma fe--a ghost, they say. John Trevna shot him, but he had been dead a +long time before that, though he was alive last night, for Peter had +hold of his leg as he ran." + +"And where is the other--the one you went for?" + +"He's not on L'Etat, anyway, ma fille," and they lifted the body on to a +piece of sailcloth, and carried it off through the tunnel for the +Senechal to look into. + +So Stephen Gard's hiding-place had proved effective, and they had not +found him. But, of a certainty, he must be starving, and so away home +sped Nance, to prepare a parcel of food to take across to him. And +Julie, her black brows pinched together and her face set in a frown of +venomous intention, never once let her out of her sight. + +It was after midnight when Nance stole across the fields, carrying her +little parcel and her swimming-bladders, and made her way to Breniere +point. + +It was a still night, with a sky full of stars, and her heart was high +for the moment, though when her thoughts ran on, in spite of her, it +fell again. For things could not go on this way for ever, and she saw no +way out. + +She dropped her outer things by a bush, and let herself quietly down the +rocks and into the water, and the black-faced woman who presently stood +by that bush snarled curses after her and was filled with unholy +exultation. For Nance could have only one reason for going across there, +and on the morrow the men should hear of it, and she would give them no +rest till Gard was made an end of. + +What that thing was that they had brought home, she did not know, but +they were fools to be satisfied with that when the man they had gone +after was undoubtedly still on the rock. + +So she sat down by Nance's gown and cloak, and revolved schemes for her +discomfiture and the undoing of Stephen Gard. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +HOW HOPE CAME ONCE AGAIN + + +Nance found the passage of the Race more trying then ever before. The +strain of these latter days had been very great, and the thought of +Bernel tended to unnerve her. + +On the other hand, the knowledge that Gard had outwitted the whole +strength of the Island cheered and braced her, and she struggled +valiantly through the broken waters till at last she hung panting on the +black ledge where she was in the habit of landing. + +She scrambled up among the boulders and made straight for the great +wall. She had decided in her own mind that he would probably be +somewhere in there, possibly afraid to come out, as he would not know if +the Sark men were still on the rock. + +As nearly as she could, she climbed to the place she had seen the men go +in, and then she cried softly, "Steve! Mr. Gard!" and went on calling, +as she moved up and down along the base of the wall. + +And at last her heart jumped wildly as she heard her name faintly from +inside the wall, and presently Gard himself came crawling from under the +big slab and jumped down to her side. + +"Nance! You are a good angel to me," and he flung his arms round her and +kissed her again and again. + +"But oh, my dear, I would not have you risk your life for me like +this." + +"It is nothing. I am all right," said Nance, forgetting the weariness +and dangers of the passage in her joy at finding him alive and well. "I +have brought you food," and she pushed her little parcel into his hands. + +"I hardly dare to eat it when I think what it has cost you." + +"That would be foolish, and you must be starving." + +"Truly, I am hungry--" + +"Eat, then!" and she seized the package and began to tear it open. "It +will make me still more glad to see you eat." + +"Well, then--" and Nance was gladder than ever that she had come. + +"Have they all gone back?" he asked anxiously, as he munched. + +"They came back this morning, bringing a strange dead man." + +"I know. I put him there--" + +"Who is he?" + +"I found him in a cave inside the rock. He had been left there very many +years ago with his hands and feet tied. I think he must have been a +Customs officer of long ago." + +Nance shivered, and he felt it. + +"You are cold, Nance dear, and I am thinking only of myself;" and he +took off his jacket and put it over her slim wet shoulders, in spite of +herself. + +"If they have all gone back we could go to the shelter. They may have +left some of the things there;" and they went along and found the cloak +and blanket, and he wrapped them about her. + +"I found a still larger cave out of the other one, and I was in there +when they came after me. I had put the dead man in the tunnel, and when +I came back he was gone; but I did not dare to come out, for I was +afraid they might be on the watch still." + +"The dead man frightened them. I do not think they will come back. They +are afraid of ghosts." + +"I hoped he would scare them. But what is to be the end of it all, Nance +dear? Things cannot go on this way. Would it be possible to get me a +boat and let me get over to Guernsey?" + +"If you will wait a little time, that is what we must do, if the truth +does not come out." + +"And meanwhile you may be drowned in trying to keep me from starving." + +"I shall not be drowned and you shall not starve," she said resolutely. + +"I would sooner live on puffins' eggs than have you swim across that +place. My heart goes right down into my feet when I think of it." + +"There is no need. I am all right." + +"The Senechal and the Seigneur could not stop them?" + +"Mr. Le Pelley is in Guernsey still. The Senechal they would not listen +to. But the truth will come out if only you will wait." + +"If I get away, will you come to me, Nance? And all my life I will give +to making you happy." + +"Yes, I will come. But it will be sore leaving Sark. To a Sark-born +there is no other place in the world like Sark." + +"All my life I will give to making up for it." + +"We will see. Now I must go, or it will be daylight before I get back." + +"I shall be in misery till I know you are safe." + +"It will be nearly light. I will wave to you from Breniere;" and they +went slowly round to the ledges, and parted with kisses; and in the grey +morning light he could, for a time, follow the little white figure as it +slipped bravely through the bristling black waves of the Race. + +But presently he could see her no more, and could but wait, full of +anxiety and many prayers, for the signal that should tell of her safety. + +But it did not come, and he grew desperate and full of fears. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +HOW JULIE'S SCHEMES FELL FLAT + + +Nance found the return journey still more trying to her strength, but +she struggled through, and was devoutly thankful when the slack water +under Breniere was reached. + +She waded ashore almost too weary to stand, and had to cling to the +rough rocks till she recovered her breath. Then, slowly and heavily, she +dragged herself up the lower ledges to the little plateau where her +clothes were. + +Julie had sat revolving grim schemes in that black head of hers. + +She hated the girl. She hated Gard. She hated Sark and every one in it. +Why had she ever come into these outer wilds? She would have done with +it all and get away back to the life that was more to her taste. + +But first--yes, mon Dieu, she would leave them something to remember her +by. + +She had not a doubt that Gard was still on L'Etat. Nothing else would +take this girl across there. The shameless hussy!--to go swimming across +to see her man with nothing but a white shift on! + +She could wound Gard through Nance. She could wound Nance through Gard. + +She could wait for the girl as she came up the side of the Head, and +push her down again or crush her with a lump of rock. + +But that might mean reprisals on the part of the Islanders. She had had +experience of the way in which they resented any ill done to one of +their number by an outsider. She had no wish to join Gard on his rock. + +It would be better to hold the girl up to the scorn and contempt of the +neighbours; that would punish her. And by setting the men on Gard's +track again, that would punish him and her too. + +And so she restrained the natural violence of her temper, which would +have run to rocks and bodily injury, and waited in the bracken till +Nance came stumbling along in the half-light. Then up she sprang, with +an unexpectedness that for the moment took Nance's breath and set her +heart pounding with dreadful certainties of ghosts. + +"So this is how you go to visit your fancy monsieur on the rock, is it, +little Nance? And with nothing on but that! Oh shame! What will the +neighbours say when they hear how you swim across to him, and you will +not dare deny it?" + +But Nance, relieved in her mind on the score of ghosts, and regaining +her composure with her breath, simply turned her back on her and +proceeded as if she were not there. + +"And he is there still!" screamed Julie, dancing round with rage to keep +face to face with her. "I was sure of it, though those fools could not +find him. I'll see that he's found or starved out, b'en sur! Yes, if I +have to go myself and see to it. As for you--shameless one!--it's the +last time you'll swim across there, yes indeed!"--and she raved on and +on, as only an angry woman with a grievance can. + +Nance slipped her dress over her head and, under cover of it, dropped +off her wet undergarment, coolly wrung it out, put on her cloak and +walked away, Julie raging alongside with wild words that tumbled over +one another in their haste. + +Nance walked to the highest point behind Breniere, and waved her white +garment a dozen times to let Gard know she was safe, and then turned and +set off home through the waist-high bracken and the great cushions of +gorse. And close alongside her went Julie, raging and raving the worse +for her silence; for there is nothing so galling to an angry soul as to +find its most venomous shafts fall harmless from the triple mail of +quiet self-possession. + +So they came through the other cottages to La Closerie, but the +neighbours were all asleep, and those who woke at the sound of her +violence, turned over and said, "It's only that mad Frenchwoman in one +of her tantrums. Why, in Heaven's name, can't she go to sleep, like +other folks?" + +Nance went into her own house and quietly closed the door. Julie +hammered on it with her fists, as she would dearly have liked to hammer +on Nance's face, and then cursed herself off into her own place, +slamming the door with such violence as to waken all the fowls and set +all the pigs grunting in their sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +HOW AN ANGEL CAME BRINGING THE TRUTH + + +Gard's eyes, straining into the dimness of the coming dawn through what +seemed to him a most terrible long time, so packed was it with anxious +fears, caught at last the white flicker of Nance's signal, and he +dropped down just where he stood, among the rough stones of the ridge, +with a grateful sigh. + +The strain was telling on him. He felt physically weak and worn. Nance's +devoted love and courage made his heart beat high, indeed, but his fears +on her account strung his laxed cords to breaking point, and then left +them looser than before. + +He must get away somehow, if only to prevent this constant and terrible +risking of her life on his behalf. + +He hardly dared to hope that his strategy with the dead man would be of +any permanent benefit to him, though there was no knowing. Examination +of the body would show that it had been dead for very many years, but +his knowledge of the Island superstitions made him doubt if any Sark man +would willingly spend a night on L'Etat for a very long time to come. + +On the other hand, if the result of their discussions confirmed them in +the belief that he was still there, and if, as he constantly feared, +they should learn of Nance's comings, and visit upon her the venom they +harboured for him, they might so invest the rock that escape would be +impossible. + +Meagre living, starvation even, he would suffer rather than live more +amply at risk of Nance's life, but if the hope of ultimate escape was +taken from him then he might as well give in at once and have done with +it. + +So he lay there, in the broken rocks of the ridge, and looked grimly on +life. And the sun rose in a red ball over France, and cleft a shining +track across the grey face of the waters, and drew up the mists and +thinned away the clouds, till the great plain of the sea and the great +dome above were all deep flawless blue, and he saw a thin white curl of +smoke rise from the miners' cottages on Sark. + +He lay there listless, nerveless, careless of life almost, an Ishmael +with every man's hand against him--worse off than Ishmael, he thought, +since Ishmael had a desert in which to wander, and he was tied to this +bare rock. + +But there was Nance! There was always Nance. And at thought of her, his +bruised soul found somewhat of comfort and courage once more. + +He felt her quivering in his arms again as he pressed her close. He felt +again the willing surrender of her sweet wet face. And the thought of it +thrilled his cold blood and set it coursing through his veins like new +life. Yes, truly, while there was Nance there was hope. + +Perhaps the Senechal and the Vicar would prevail upon them. Perhaps they +would give it up and leave him alone, and then Nance would find him a +boat and they would get across to Guernsey. Perhaps, as she kept +insisting, something would happen to discover the truth. + +So he lay, while the sun mounted high and baked him on the bare stones, +but he did not find it hot. + +And then, of a sudden, he stiffened and lay watching anxiously. For +there, from out the Creux had come a boat--and another, and another, and +another--four boat-loads of them again! + +So they were coming, after all, and his hopes died sudden death. + +Well--let them come and take him and have their will. He was not the +first who had paid the price for what he had not done, and human nature +must fall to pieces if hung too long on tenterhooks. + +He watched them listlessly. He could crawl into his innermost cavern, of +course, and could hold it against them all till the end of time, which +in this case would be but a trifling span, for a man must eat to live. +But what was the use? As well die quick as slow, since there could be +but one end to it. And then, to his very great surprise, the boats crept +slowly out of sight round the corner of Coupee Bay, and he lay +wondering. + +What could be the meaning of that? Why had they put in there? Why +couldn't they come on and finish the matter? + +The sea was all deserted again. If he had not just happened to catch +sight of them stealing across there, he would have felt sure they were +not coming to-day. + +Perhaps they were going to wait there till night, though why on earth +they should wait there instead of at the Creux, was past his +comprehension. + +And then, after a time, to his amazement, he saw them all go crawling +back the way they had come. One, two, three, four--yes, they were all +there, and they crept slowly round Laches point and disappeared, and +left him gaping. + +It was past believing. It was altogether beyond him. He lay, with his +eyes glued to the point round which they had gone, stupid with the +wonder of it. + +They had actually given it up--for to-day, at least, and gone back! He +cudgelled his brains for the meaning of it all, till they grew dull and +weary with futile thinking. + +Perhaps Nance and the Vicar and the Senechal had prevailed after all! +Perhaps something had turned up at last to prove to the Sark men their +misjudgment! Perhaps--well, any way, it was good to be left alone. + +He lay there, laxed with the over-strain of all this upsetting, but +rejoicing placidly in this one more day of life. + +He felt like one granted a day's respite as he stands on the scaffold +with the rope round his neck. + +Never had the sun shone so brightly. Never had the silver sea danced so +merrily. It might be the last he would see of them. + +And the sun wheeled on towards Guernsey, and made his deliberate +preparations for a setting beyond the ordinary; for the sun, you must +know, takes a very special pride in showing the great cliffs of Sark +what he can do in the way of transformation scenes and most transcendent +colouring. + +And Stephen Gard lay there under the ridge on L'Etat, with the wonder +and beauty of it all in his face and in his heart, and said to himself +that it was probably the last sunset he would ever see, and he was glad +to have seen it at its best. + +He had a vague idea that heaven would be something like that--tenderly +soft and beautiful, and glowing with radiances of unearthly splendour, +which whispered to weary hearts of the peace and joy that lay beyond, +and gently called them home to rest. + +His theology was, without doubt, of the most elemental and objective, +and would not have carried him any great lengths in these days; but, for +the time being, at all events, it lifted its possessor to a plane of +thought above his usual, and tended to quietness and peace of mind. + +The sky right away into the east was glowing softly with the wonders of +the sunset, and there the delicate tones changed almost momentarily. As +his eye followed the tender grace of their transformations, with a +delight which he could neither have expressed nor explained, it once +more lighted suddenly upon that which he had been looking for so +anxiously all day long, and brought him to earth like a broken bird. + +Once more a boat had come round the point of Les Laches, and this time +it was speeding towards him as fast as a sail that was as flat almost as +a board, and looked to him no more than a thin white cone, could bring +it. + +So they were coming, after all, and this wonderful sunset might be his +last indeed;--and all the tender beauty of the fleecy clouds thinned and +paled, and the glory faded as though it had all been but a glorious +bubble, and that sharp point of white, speeding across the darkening +sea, had pricked it. + +But why on earth were they coming now? They had missed the ebb, and it +was hours yet to next half-ebb, and they could not hope to land. The +white waves were boiling all along the ledges, and the sea for twenty +feet out was a surging dapple of foam laced with seething white bubbles. +It would be more than any man's life was worth to try and get ashore on +L'Etat for many an hour yet. + +And there was only one boat! What had become of all the others--of the +threatened invasion in force? He sat and watched it in gloomy wonder. + +The boat came racing on. As she cleared Breniere her white sail turned +to red gold, and the sea below grew purple. There was something white in +her bows. He got up heavily, doggedly, forced to it against his will, +and walked along the ridge to the eastern point which commanded the +landing-place on that side. + +There was, without doubt, something white in the bows of the boat, and +as he stood gazing at it, it took, to his dazed imagination, the strange +form of Nance waving joyful hands to him. + +He drew his hands across his eyes. The storm had been sore on them. + +The bristling waves of the Race burst in sheets of spray under the +glancing bows, but the white spray and the white figure and the pointed +white sail were all ablaze in the last rays of the sun, and they all +swam before him as if his head was going round. + +She came round Quette d'Amont with a fine sweep, like one bound on +business of which she had no reason to be ashamed, and dropped her sail +and lay in the shelter of the rock. + +And the white figure in the bows was truly Nance, and she was standing +and waving and calling to him. And the grey-headed man aft was surely +Philip Guille, the Senechal, and the faces of the rest were all +friendly. + +He stumbled hastily down to the lower ledges, but the rush and the roar +there drowned their voices. + +What were they trying to tell him? What could they want of him? + +The Senechal was standing, hands to mouth, waiting his chance. The +restless waters below drew back for a moment to gather for a leap, and +the big voice came booming across the tumult-- + +"Jump! We'll pick you up! All is well!" + +And Gard, without a moment's hesitation, sprang out into the marbled +foam, and struck out for the boat. + +They were all friendly hands that gripped him and hauled him over the +side, and patted him on the back to get the water out of him--all +friendly faces that were turned to him; and the dearest face of all, +lighted with a heavenly gladness, was to him as the face of an angel. + +"Tell me!" he gasped, still all astream, wits and clothes alike. And it +was the Senechal who told him. + +"Peter Mauger was killed last night, at the same place as Tom Hamon, and +in the same way. So these hot-blooded thickheads are convinced at last +that it wasn't your work." + +"Peter Mauger!" he said, gazing vaguely at them all. "But who--" + +"We haven't found out yet. But even the thickest of the thickheads can't +put it down to you"--and the thickheads present grinned in friendly +fashion, and they ran up the sail with a will, and turned her nose, and +went racing back to the Creux quicker than they had come. + +And Gard sat still with his hand in Nance's two, feeling very weak and +shaky, and looked vaguely back at L'Etat as it faded and dwindled into a +dim black triangle of rock. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +HOW HE CAME HOME FROM L'ETAT + + +This is what had happened. + +Since Tom Hamon's death, his friend Peter and his widow Julie had, as we +know, found themselves drawn together by a common detestation of Stephen +Gard and a common desire for his extinction. + +For Peter considered he had been supplanted in Nance's regards, though +Nance had never regarded him as anything but a nuisance and a boor. And +Julie considered herself scorned and slighted, though Gard had never +considered her save as Tom Hamon's wife. + +It was they who had stirred up the Sark men against Gard, and they +missed no opportunity of keeping their ill brew on the boil. + +Their offensive alliance brought them much together. Peter was often at +La Closerie. He was like wax in the hands of the fiery Frenchwoman, and +she moulded him to her will. The neighbours might have begun to talk, +but that it was obvious to all that the only bond between them at +present was their ill-will towards Gard, and in that feeling many shared +and found nothing strange in Tom's wife and Tom's chief friend joining +hands to make some one pay for his death. + +In time, if it had gone on, the neighbours would doubtless have had +plenty to say on the subject, for old wives' tongues rattled fast of a +winter's evening, when they all gathered in this house or that, and sat +on the sides of the green bed with their feet in the dry fern inside, +and the oil crasset hanging down in the midst, and plied their needles +and their tongues and wits all at once, and wrought scandalously good +guernseys and stockings in spite of it all. + +But these were summer evenings yet, and the _veilles_ had not begun, and +reputations were out at grass till the time came round for their +inspection and judgment. + +And so, when Peter Mauger never reached home the night before this day +of which we are telling, his old housekeeper, whatever she thought about +it at the time, only said afterwards that she supposed he had stopped +somewhere and would turn up all right in the morning, though she +admitted that he was not in the habit of staying out of a night. Anyway, +she was an old woman and all alone, and she was not going out to look +for him at that time of night. + +The morning surprised her by his continued absence. Never in his life, +so far as she knew, had he behaved like this before. Vituperation of him +gave place to anxiety about him. + +She questioned the neighbours. All they knew was that he had been seen +going down to Little Sark soon after sunset. + +"That black Frenchwoman of Tom Hamon's twists him round her finger," +said one. + +"You tie him up, Mrs. Guille," chuckled another, "or sure as beans +she'll steal him from you and leave you in the cold." + +And then, who should they see coming striding along the road but Madame +Julie herself, and evidently in a hurry;--in a state of red-hot +excitement, too, as she drew near. And they waited, hands on hips, to +hear what she was up to now. + +"Where's Peter?" she demanded, a long way in advance. "Tell him I want +him. That man Gard is still on L'Etat, though those fools who went +across for him couldn't find him. Cre nom! What are you all staring at, +then?" + +"Where's our Peter?" demanded Mrs. Guille shrilly, with the strident +note of fear in her voice, as she becked and bobbed towards the +Frenchwoman like an aged cormorant. + +"Peter? I'm asking you. I want him. Where is he?" + +"He went to Little Sark last night, and he's never come home." + +"Never come home? Why, what's taken him? If he'd been with me last night +he'd have seen something! That Nance Hamon swam across to the rock with +nothing on but her shift to take food to Gard, and I caught her at +it--the shameless hussy!" + +"Maybe Peter's heard of it an' gone across with 'em again," suggested +one. "He was terrible hot against Gard." + +"And reason he had to be hot against him," cried Julie. "Who'll find out +for me where he's got to, and when they're going out after Gard? I would +go too and see the end of him." + +A couple of burly husbands came rolling round the corner towards their +breakfasts and caught her words. + +"Doubt you'll have to go alone, mistress," said one, phlegmatically. +"There's ghosts on L'Etat, they do say, though sure the one John +Drillot brought across was dead enough." + +"If he's there," said the other, plumbing Julie's feelings, "he's safe +as a pig in a pen." + +"Where's our Peter?" demanded Mrs. Guille. + +"Peter? I d'n know. What's come of him?" and they stared blankly at her. + +"He went to Little Sark last night to see her"--with a beck of distaste +towards Julie--"and he's never come home." + +The men looked from the speaker to Julie, as though the next word +necessarily lay with her. + +"I never set eyes on him. I was out after that girl. I came here to tell +him about Gard. Has he been to the harbour?" + +"No, he hasn't. We are from there now." + +"He's maybe with some of them arranging about going to L'Etat," said +Julie. "I'll go and find out;" and she set off along the road past the +windmill. + +The morning passed in fruitless enquiries. She asked this one and that, +every one she could think of, if they had seen Peter, and was met +everywhere with meaning grins and point-blank denials. Apparently no one +had set eyes on Peter, and every one seemed to imply that she ought io +know more about him than any one else. + +It was past mid-day before she was back at Vauroque, but Mrs. Guilie was +still standing in the doorway of Peter's empty house as if she had been +looking out for news of him ever since. + +"Eh b'en? Have you found him?" she cried. + +"Not a finger of him!" snapped Julie savagely, tired out with her +fruitless labours. + +"Then he's come to some ill, ba su. And if he has--ma fe, it's +you!--it's you!" The old lady's scream of denunciation choked itself +with its own excess, and the neighbours came running out to learn the +news. + +Stolid minds travel in grooves, and old Mrs. Guille's had been groping +along possibilities of all kinds, clinging at the same time to the hope +that Peter would still turn up all right. + +Now that her hope was shattered her mind dropped naturally into a grim +groove, along which it had taken a tentative trip during the morning and +had recoiled from with a shudder. + +The last time Mrs. Tom Hamon had come seeking a man who was missing, +that man had been found under the Coupee, and so old Mrs. Guille set oft +for the Coupee as fast as her old legs and her want of breath and +general agitation would let her. + +"Nom de Dieu! What--?" began Julie, with twisted black brows, and then +drifted on with the rest in Mrs. Guille's wake--all except one or two +housewives whose men were due for dinner, and knew they must be fed +whatever had come to Peter Mauger. + +"Gaderabotin!" said one of these as he came up, and stood scratching his +head and gazing down the road after them. "What's taken them all?" + +"Think because they found Tom Hamon there, they'll find Peter too," +guffawed another, and they rolled on into their homes, chuckling at the +simplicity of women and children. + +Arrived at the Coupee, the little mob of sensation-seekers peered +fearfully about. One small boy, cleverer or more groovy-minded than the +rest, struck off along the headland to the left. It was from there +Charles Guille had seen Tom Hamon. Perhaps from there he would see +something, too. + +And no sooner was he there, where he could see to the foot of the cliffs +in Coupee Bay, than he commenced to dance and wave his arms like a mad +thing, because the words he wanted to shout choked him tight so that he +could hardly breathe. + +They streamed out along the cliff and huddled there, struck chill with +fright in spite of the blazing sun. + +For there, under the cliff, in the same spot as they found Tom Hamon, +lay another dark, huddled figure, and they knew it must be Peter. + +The finding of Tom had filled them with anger against Gard. The finding +of Peter filled them with fear. + +Gard had sufficed as explanation and scapegoat for Tom's death, and as +vent for their feelings. But what of Peter's? + +It had not been Gard, then? And if not Gard, who? + +For, whoever it was, he was still at large, and any of them might be the +next. + +There were new terrors in the eyes that gazed so wildly on the narrow +white path and the towering pinnacles of the Coupee. They had been +familiar with it all, all their lives, but suddenly it had become +strange to them. + +If grisly Death, all bones and scythe, had come stalking along it before +their eyes at that moment, they would have shrieked, no doubt, and +fallen flat, but he would have no more than answered to their feelings +and fulfilled their expectations. + +As it was, when the Seigneur's big white stallion stuck his head over +the green dyke behind them, and gave a shrill neigh at the unexpected +sight of so many people in a field which was usually occupied only by +Charles Guille's two mild-eyed cows and their calves, the women screamed +and the children lied. + +"Man doux! but I thought it was the devil himself," said old Mrs. +Guille. "Oui-gia!" and shook an angry fist at him. + +But the discoverer of the body was already away along the road to +Vauroque, covering the ground like a little incarnation of ill-news. + +The exertion of running cleared away the choking, if it took his breath. +He shouted as he drew near the houses. + +"Ah, bah!" growled one of the diners inside. "What's to do now, then?" + +"He's there ... Peter ... under Coupee ... Where Tom Hamon...." panted +the news-bearer as he tore past to his own home. And the rest of +Vauroque emptied itself into the road and stood looking along it, as the +stragglers came up, white-faced and wild-eyed. + +"He's there," confirmed one woman, twisting up her loosened hair. "And +just same place where Tom Hamon lay." + +"'Tweren't Gard killed _him_, then," said one of the diners, chewing +over that thought with his last mouthful. + +"Nor Tom neither, then, maybe," said another. + +"We've bin on wrong tack, then;" and they went off round the corner at a +speed their build would hardly have credited them with. + +One to the Senechal and one to the Doctor, and then to the Creux, both +telling the news as they went. So that when the officials came hurrying +through the tunnel the greater part of the Island was waiting for them +on the shingle, except those who preferred the wider view from the +cliff above. + +Some of the men had been for pulling across at once, but they were +overborne. + +"Doctor said he'd like to have seen him afore he was moved last time," +said old John de Carteret weightily, and would not let a boat go out +till the Doctor and the Senechal came. + +It was all waiting for them the moment they arrived, however, and they +stepped in and swung away round Les Laches, and three other boats +followed them so closely that it looked almost like a gruesome race who +should get there first. + +There was little talking in any of the boats, but there was some solid +hard thinking, in a mazed kind of way. + +Until they knew more of the facts, indeed, they scarce knew what to +think yet. But more than one of them remembered disturbedly how they had +gone in force two days before to fetch Gard off his lonely rock, or to +make an end of him there; and here they were going in force on a very +different errand--an errand which, they could not help seeing, would +bring him off his rock in a very different way, if this present matter +was what it looked as if it might be. + +And the Doctor was not long in giving them the facts, when they had run +up on to the shingle, and then crunched through it to the place where +Peter's body lay under the steep black cliff--in the exact spot where +Tom Hamon's had lain just eighteen days before. + +But that it was undoubtedly Peter's face and body, those who had come +after Tom the last time might have thought they were going through their +previous experience over again. It was all so like. + +They all stood round in a dark, silent group while the Doctor carefully +examined the body, and the Senechal looked on with stern and troubled +face. + +"It is most extraordinary," said the Doctor, straightening up from his +task at last, and his face, too, was knitted with perplexity, but had +something else in it besides. "This man has been done to death in +exactly the same way as Hamon"--a rustle of surprise shook the group of +silent onlookers. "The head has been beaten in just as Hamon's was--with +some blunt rounded tool, I should say. These other wounds and contusions +are the results of his fall down the cliff. He has been dead at least +eight hours. Lift him carefully, men. We can do nothing more +here--unless by chance the one who did it flung his weapon after him, +and we could find it." + +They scattered, and searched the whole dark bay minutely, but found +nothing. Then with rough gentleness they bore the body to the boat and +laid it under the thwarts. + +"Men!" said the Senechal weightily, as they were just about to climb +back into their boats. "This matter brings another matter home to all +our hearts. You have been persecuting another man under the belief that +he killed Tom Hamon. From what some of us knew of Mr. Gard, we were +certain he could have had no hand in it. This, I take it, proves it?" He +looked at the Doctor. + +"Undoubtedly!" nodded the Doctor. "The man who killed this one killed +the other, and that man could not be Stephen Gard, for he is on L'Etat." + +"It's God's mercy that you haven't Mr. Gard's blood on your heads. Some +of you, I know, have done your best that way. Suppose you had killed +him that other night--what would you have felt as you stood here to-day? +Take that thought home with you, and may God keep you from like +misjudgment in the future!" + +And they had not a word to say for themselves, but crawled silently +aboard, and in silence pulled back to Creux Harbour. + +Once only old John de Carteret spoke to the Senechal, soon after they +had started. + +"One of them"--nodding over at the boats behind--"could go to the rock +and bring him off," he suggested. + +"I thought of that, but there's one I want to go with me. She'll be down +at the Creux, I expect, and we'll go as soon as we've disposed of this." + +There was a very different feeling visible in the silent crowd that +awaited them at the harbour this time from that manifested on the last +occasion, Then, it was a sympathetic anger that united them all in a +common feeling against the perpetrator of the deed. Now--even before the +whisper had run round that Peter Mauger had been done to death in the +same way as Tom Hamon--fear was among them, and doubt. Fear of they knew +not exactly what, and doubt of they knew not whom. + +But here were two men done to death in their midst, and the man on whom +all their suspicions had settled in the first case could not possibly +have had anything to do with the second, and so had most likely had +nothing to do with either--in which case the man who had was still at +large among them, and no man's life was safe, much less any woman's or +child's. + +Their thoughts did not run, perhaps, quite so clearly as that, but that +was the result of it all, and their faces showed it. Furthermore, every +man and woman there began at once to cast about in his and her mind for +the possible murderer, and men looked at the neighbours whom they had +known all their lives, with lurking suspicions in their eyes and the +consideration of strange possibilities in their minds. + +Tom Hamon's death had bound them closer together; Peter Mauger's set +them all apart. The strange dead man up in the school-house added to +their discomfort. + +It was not until the hastily-constructed litter with its gruesome burden +had been sent off to the Boys' School, in charge of the constables and +the Doctor, that the Senechal caught sight of Nance's eager white face +and anxious eyes, in the crowd that lingered still in answer to another +whisper that had flown round. + +If they were at once pig-headed and hot-blooded and suspicious, they +were also warm-hearted and willing to atone for a mistake--once they +were sure of it. + +No crowd followed Peter on his last journey but one, though the whole +Island had swarmed after Tom Hamon. + +They wanted to see the man who would have been killed for killing Tom, +though he didn't do it, but for--circumstances, and his own pluck and +endurance. + +And when the Senechal beckoned to one of the circumstances, and put his +hand on her slim shoulder, and said-- + +"We are going for him. I thought you would like to come too," her face +went rosy with gratitude, and the brave little hands clasped up on to +her breast, as she murmured-- + +"Oh, M. le Senechal!" and choked at anything more. + +Those nearest gave her rough words of encouragement. + +"Cheer up, Nance! You'll soon have him back!" + +"That's a brave garche! Don't cry about it now!" + +"We'll make it up to him, lass. We'll all come and dance at the +wedding"--and so on. + +But the Senechal patted her on the shoulder and asked-- + +"And where is your brother? He should come, too. I hear you have both +been in this matter." + +"Ah, monsieur!" she said, with brimming eyes and a pathetic little lift +and fall of the hand, which expressed far more than she could put into +words. "We fear ... we fear he is drowned. He swam out to the rock taking +food, and ... and ... we have not seen him since;" and her hand was over +her face and the tears streaming through. + +"Mon Dieu! Another!" said the Senechal, aghast. "When, child? When was +this?" + +"The night after the storm, monsieur." + +"Perhaps he is there, on the rock." + +"No, monsieur. I was over there myself last night. He never got there, +and we fear he must be drowned." + +"You were over there, child? Why, how did you get across?" + +"I swam, monsieur;" and he stared at her in amazement. + +"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! You make up for some of the others," he said +bluntly. "Come then, and we will make sure of this one, anyhow;" and he +led the way to John de Carteret's boat, and all the people gave them a +cheer as they pulled out of the harbour to catch the breeze off the +Laches. + +Then the crowd waited for their return, and talked by snatches of all +these strange happenings, and discussed and discounted the chances of +Bernel's being still alive. + +"For, see you, the Race! And that was the first night after the storm, +and it would be running like the deuce, bidemme!" "It's best not to know +how to swim if it leads you to do things like that, oui-gia!" "When a +man's time comes, he cuts his cleft in the water, whether he can swim or +not, crais b'en!" "And that slip of a Nance had been over there last +night--par made, some folks have the courage!" "All the same, it was +madness--" + +But behind all the broken chatter, in every mind was the grim question, +"Who is it, then, that is doing these things amongst us?" And there was +a feeling of mighty discomfort abroad. + +All the same, they cheered vigorously as the boat came speeding back, +and they saw Gard sitting between Nance and the Senechal, and crowded +round as it ran up the shingle, and would have lifted him out and +carried him shoulder-high through the tunnel and up the road, if he +would have had it. + +They saw how his imprisonment on the rock--"Ma fe, think of it!--all +through that storm, too!"--had told upon him. His cheeks were hollow, +and his eyes sunken, and he looked very weary--"and, man doux, no +wonder, after eighteen days on L'Etat!"--though their friendly shouts +had put a touch of colour in his face and a spark in his eyes for the +moment. + +"Now, away home, all of you!" ordered the Senechal. "We've all had +enough to think about for one day. To-morrow we will see what is to be +done." + +"Too much!" croaked one old crone, who had something of a reputation +among her neighbours. "What I want to know is--who killed Peter Mauger?" + +And that was the question that occupied most minds in Sark that night. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +HOW THEY LAID TRAPS FOR THE DEVIL + + +The Doctor insisted on taking care of Gard. He took him into his own +house at Dixcart, and began at once a course of treatment based on +common-sense and the then most scientific attainment, and calculated to +repair the waste of the Rock and build him up anew in the shortest time +compatible with an efficient and permanent cure. + +Even when Gard felt quite himself again and would have returned to his +work, the genial autocrat would not hear of it. + +"Just you stop here, my boy," he ordered. "An experience such as you +have had needs some getting over. You can stand a good rest and some +fattening up, and those ---- mines must wait." + +Meanwhile, the Island was in a smoulder of suspicion and superstition. + +No one had yet ventured openly to point the finger at any reasonably +possible doer of deeds so dark. Behind carefully closed doors of a +night, indeed, here and there a whisper suggested that the Frenchwoman +might be at the bottom of it all. But the mistake that had already been +made, and the consequences that came so terribly near to completing it +beyond repair, made them all cautious of open speech or action. + +Gard's story explained the mystery of the dead stranger and relieved the +public mind to that extent. + +The Senechal was disposed to agree with his views on the matter. + +"I never heard of those caves on L'Etat," he said musingly, as they sat +over their pipes one night; "and I'm sure no one else knew of them. But +there was much free-trading round here in the old times, and I've no +doubt many a Customs man disappeared and was never heard of again, just +like this one. All the Islands felt very sore about the new regulations, +and our people stick at nothing when their blood is up." + +"They do not," said Gard feelingly. + +"I'd like to get into that inner cave," said the Doctor longingly. + +"You couldn't," said Gard, looking at his size and girth. "It's a mighty +tight squeeze under the slab, and that tunnel would beat you. Unless +you've been brought up to that kind of thing, you couldn't stand it. It +would give you nightmares for the rest of your life." + +"That's a rare lass, that little Nance," said the Senechal. "There's +some good in Sark after all, Mr. Gard." + +"She was an angel to me," said Gard with feeling. "If it had not been +for her, I could never have held out. Not for what she brought me, but +the fact that she came. But it was terrible to me to think of her coming +through that Race. I begged her not to, but she would have her way. +Three times she risked her life for me--" + +"Three times!" said the Senechal. "Ma fe, but she's a garche to be proud +of!" + +"Ay, and to be more than proud of," said Gard. "She has given me my +life, and I will give it all to making her happy." + +"I wouldn't swim across to L'Etat for any woman in the world," said the +Doctor. "Because, in the first place, I couldn't. She must have nerves +of steel, to say nothing of muscles. In the dark, too! And you wouldn't +think it to look at her." + +"It needed more than nerves or muscles," said Gard quietly. + +Not a man among the Islanders--much less a woman--would go anywhere near +the Coupee after dark. Even Nance confessed to a preference for daylight +passages. And Gard, when he went down into Little Sark for a walk, as +part of his cure, could not repress a cold shiver whenever he passed the +fatal spot where two men had gone over to their deaths. + +All the old wives' tales were dug up and passed along, growing as they +went. Little eyes and mouths grew permanently rounded with horrors, and +the ground was thoroughly well spaded and planted with sturdy shoots +warranted to yield a noisome harvest of superstition for generations to +come. + +The occupants of Clos Bourel and Plaisance carefully locked their doors +of a night now. + +Old Mrs. Carre at Plaisance vowed she had heard the White Horses go +past, on the nights before Tom Hamon and Peter were found. And every one +knew that when the ghostly horses were heard, some one was going to die. +But as she had said nothing about it before, her contribution to the +general uneasiness was received with respect before her face but with +open doubt behind her back. + +Old Nikki Never-mind-his-name--lest his descendants, if he had any, +take umbrage at the matter--swore that he had not only seen the ghostly +steed pass Vauroque in the dead of night, but that it bore a rider whose +head was carried carefully in his right hand. Unfortunately, the +headless one passed so quickly that Nikki said he could not distinguish +his features--having looked for them first in the wrong place--and so he +could not say for certain who the next to die would be; but from the +knowing wag of his head the neighbours were of opinion that he knew more +than he chose to tell, and he gained quite a reputation thereby. + +But, even here again, doubts were cast upon the matter by some, +especially those who were acquainted with the old gentleman's +proclivities towards raw spirits of the material kind that paid the +lightest of duties in Guernsey. + +All these and very many similar matters were discussed by the +Doctor--who disturbed their minds with horrific accounts of homicidal +mania taking possession of apparently innocent souls--and the Senechal +and the Vicar and Stephen Gard, as they sat over their pipes of an +evening in the Doctor's house. But chiefly the great and troublesome +question of "Who?" + +They were all of one mind that the matter must be looked into. The +feeling that a danger was loose in the Island, and might at any moment +fall upon any man, woman, or child, was past endurance. The suspicion +that It might be any one of those they met every day was insufferable. + +The only difficulty was to decide how to look into it--what to do, and +how. + +Each day they feared to hear of some new outrage. But until the +perpetrator was discovered they could do nothing towards his +suppression. And, on the other hand, it looked as though they could do +nothing towards his discovery until he perpetrated some new outrage. + +It was Gard who suggested they should watch the Coupee every night, +armed, and unknown to any but themselves. + +And, after much discussion, following out his idea, he and the Senechal +and the Doctor, who could bowl over a rabbit as well as any of them, lay +in the heather, on the common above the cutting on the Little Sark side, +for many nights, guns in hand, and eyes and ears on the strain, but saw +and heard nothing. + +One night, indeed, when there was a high wind, the Doctor's marrow +crawled in his backbone at the sound of groanings and moanings and most +dolorous cries for help, coming up out of black Coupee Bay, where they +had picked up Tom Hamon's and Peter Mauger's dead bodies. + +He sweated cold terrors, for he was on the east headland right above the +bay, till the Senechal crawled over to him and whispered-- + +"Hear 'em?" + +"Y-y-yes. What the d-d-deuce and all--" + +"Knew you'd wonder what it was--" + +"W-w-wonder?" chittered the Doctor. + +"It's only the wind in the cave at the corner below here--" + +"Ah! Thought it must be something of that kind," said the Doctor through +his teeth, clenched hard to keep them in order. "Don't wonder folks +fight shy of the Coupee. Sounded uncommonly like spirits. Might give +some folks the jumps." + +On another dark and windy night it was the Senechal's turn to get +something of a fright. + +As he lay in the heather, gun in hand, and well wrapped up in his big +cloak, with all his faculties concentrated on the wavering pathway +below, it seemed to him that he heard slow heavy footsteps approaching. + +His nerves were strung tight. He craned his head to look down into the +cutting, when suddenly there came a wild snuffle at the back of his +neck, and as he jumped up with a startled yelp, one part anger and nine +parts fright, a horse that had grazed down upon him in the darkness, +leaped back with a snort and a squeal and disappeared into the night. + +"Ga'rabotin! but I thought it was the devil himself," said the Senechal, +as the others came hurrying up. "Why the deuce can't people tie up their +horses as they do their cows? I'll bring it up at the next Chef +Plaids"--which consideration restored his shaken equanimity somewhat, +and made him feel himself again. + +Nothing more came of all their watching, and over a jorum of something +hot one night, after they had returned to the Doctor's house, it was +himself who said-- + +"After all, it stands to reason. Some evil-possessed soul seeks victims, +and has fixed on the Coupee as the place best fitted for his work. No +one now goes near the Coupee at night--ergo, no victims; ergo, +no--er--no manifestations." + +"H'm! Very clever!" said the Senechal, through his pipe. "Where does +that leave us, then?" + +"We must have a decoy, of course." + +"H'm! You'll not get any Sark man to act as decoy to the devil. Besides, +they would talk, and that would upset the whole thing." + +"What about one of your men, Gard?" + +"It's a dangerous game for any man to play, Doctor.... I don't quite see +how one could ask it of them,"--and after a pause of concentrated +thought and many slow smoke-puffs--"What would you say to me?" and all +their eyes settled on him--the Doctor's professionally. + +"Surely you have suffered enough in this matter, Mr. Gard," suggested +the Vicar. + +"I would give a good deal, and do a good deal, to get to the bottom of +it all. Things will never settle down properly till this matter is +disposed of." + +That, of course, was obvious to them all, but all had the same feeling +that he had already suffered enough in the matter. + +But consideration of the Doctor's suggestion in all its aspects only +served to convince them that, if any such scheme was to be carried out, +it could only be done among themselves, and its dangers were obvious. + +It was not a matter to be lightly undertaken by any man. For whoever +undertook the role of decoy, undoubtedly took his life in his hands; and +they spent many evenings over it. + +The Vicar was absolutely against the idea, but had no alternative to +suggest. + +"It is simply playing with death," said he, "and no man has a right to +do that." + +"It means a good deal for the Island if we can clear it up," said the +Senechal. + +But, by degrees, they got to discussion of how it might be done, and +from that to the actual doing was only a heroic step. + +The decoy's head must be well padded, of course, for the heads of both +victims had been the points of attack. + +He must be well armed also, and being forewarned and more, he ought to +be able to give a certain account of himself. + +And then the Doctor and the Senechal would be close at hand and on the +keen look-out for emergencies. + +The Doctor undertook to pad his head with something in the nature of a +turban under his hat, which, he vowed, would resist the impact of iron +blows better than metal itself. + +"Leave my ears loose, anyway," said Gard. "I'd like at all events to be +able to hear it coming." + +The Senechal had a weapon, part pistol and the rest blunderbuss, which +had belonged to his father, who had always referred to it affectionately +as his "dunderbush." It had seen strange doings in its time, but had +been so long retired from the active list, that he undertook to load and +fire it himself before he said any more about it. + +And he did it next day, with a full charge, in his meadow, with the +assistance of a gate-post and a long cord, and reported it at night as +in excellent order, and calculated to blow into smithereens anything +blowable that stood up before it within the short limit of its range. + +At this stage in its proceedings the Vicar reluctantly retired from the +Committee of Public Safety. He acknowledged the sore need of ending the +suspicious and superstitious fears which were beginning to affect the +life of the community in various ways. But he could not see his way to +any participation in means so dangerous to the life of one of their +number as those suggested. + +He did his best to dissuade Gard from it. He even reminded him of the +duty he owed to Nance. She had undoubtedly saved his life, and she had a +premier claim upon his consideration--and so on. + +To all of which Gard fully assented. + +"But," he said gravely, "we are at a deadlock in this other matter, and +it is just barely possible that this plan may clear it all up. I can't +say I'm very sanguine that it will. On the other hand, I really don't +see that any great harm can come to me. The others probably suffered +because they were taken unawares. I shall go in the hope of meeting it, +and shall be ready for it. Unless, Vicar, you really think it is the +devil or something of that sort?" + +"I don't know what to think," said the Vicar solemnly. "I cannot bring +myself to believe any of our Sark men would do such dreadful things. I +look at each man I meet and say to myself, 'Now, can it be possible it +is you?--or you?--or you?'--and it does not seem possible; and yet--" + +"And yet some one did it, Vicar," said the Doctor, brusquely, "and +that's just the trouble. Until we find out _who_ did it, any man may +have done it, and we all look at everybody else, just as you do, and say +to ourselves, 'Is it you?--or you?--or you?' Though I'm bound to say +I've not got the length yet of doubting either you or the Senechal, or +Gard, and I don't think it's myself. It might quite conceivably be any +one of us, however, prowling about in our sleep and utterly unconscious +afterwards of evil-doing." + +"A most awful possibility," said the Vicar. "God grant it may turn out +differently from that." + +"You never know what this inexplicable machine may do," said the Doctor, +tapping his head. "However, we'll hope for the best, and I think the +Senechal and I ought to be able to see Gard through without any very +disastrous results. If we succeed, he will deserve better of this Island +than any man I know--and a sight more than this Island deserves of him. +I quite understand," he said, as Gard looked quickly up. "And it does +you credit, my boy; but there are not very many men would do it." + +"Well, I'm afraid I must leave you to it," said the Vicar, and did so. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +HOW THEY LAID THE DEVIL BY THE HEELS + + +When it began to be noised abroad that Gard was going to and fro across +the Coupee, even by night, as if nothing had ever happened there, the +Sark men shrugged their shoulders and said, "Pardie!--sooner him than +me--oui-gia!" + +It was obviously necessary, however, that this should be known. Even the +cormorant does not fish where fish are never found. + +But when he went to and fro by night, he went mailed--according to the +Doctor's ideas--and armed--according to the Senechal's; and each night +the Doctor and the Senechal went quietly down, some time in advance, and +lay hidden on the headlands with their guns, and never took their eyes +off him and all his surroundings, while he was in sight. + +And Gard, in nearing the Little Sark cutting, always kept carefully to +the right-hand side of the path, though it was somewhat crumbly there +and had fallen away down the slope towards Grande Greve. For he had gone +cautiously over the ground beforehand, and decided that if there was any +possibility of being knocked overboard unawares, he would prefer to go +over the much gentler slope on the right, where one might even at a +pinch find lodgment among the rubble and bushes, than over the sheer +fall into Coupee Bay, where you could drop a stone almost to the shingle +below. + +Nance knew nothing whatever of the matter, or she would undoubtedly and +most reasonably have had something to say about it. But knowledge of it +could only upset her, and so perhaps himself, and he had carefully kept +it from her. Little Sark, moreover, was more isolated than ever by +reason of the Coupee mystery, and word of his goings and comings--save +such as had La Closerie for their object in the day-time--never reached +her. + +They were in grievous sorrow down there over Bernel. Gard still preached +hope, but each day's delay in its realisation seemed to them to make it +the more unlikely, and their hearts were very sore. + +Julie had gone about her work for days after Gard's return like a bereft +tigress. Then one morning she locked the door of her house, put the key +in her pocket, and took the cutter for Guernsey; and none regretted her +going. + +And, as it turned out, though that had not been her intention at the +time, it was the last Sark was to see of her. Rumours reached them later +of her marriage to a fellow-countryman, with whom she had gone to +France. The one thing they knew for certain was that she never came back +to La Closerie, and after due interval, and consequent on other matters, +they broke open the door and resumed possession of the house. + +Night after night Gard slowly crossed the Coupee, lingered in its +shadows, went on into Little Sark, and came lingering back. + +And night after night the Doctor and the Senechal lay in the heather of +the headlands, guns in hand, waiting for something that never came, and +then going stiffly home to one or other of their houses, to lubricate +their joints and console their disappointment with hot punch and much +tobacco. + +"I'm afraid it's no go," was the Doctor's grudging verdict at last, on +the fourteenth blank night. + +"Let's keep on," said Gard. "Things generally happen just when you don't +expect them." + +"That's so," grunted the Senechal. And they decided to keep on. + +Fortunately, the nights were warm and mostly fine. When neither moon nor +stars afforded him light enough for a safe crossing, he took a lantern, +so that no one who desired to knock him on the head need miss the chance +for lack of seeing him. + +And when, after their lonely waiting, the watchers in the heather saw +the lantern come joggling down the steep cutting from Sark, they braced +themselves for eventualities, and hefted their guns, and pricked up +their ears and made ready. + +And when it had wavered slowly along the path between the great pits of +darkness on either hand, and had gone joggling on into Little Sark, they +sank back into their formes with each his own particular exclamation, +and lay waiting till the light came back. + +Times of tension and endurance which told upon them all, but bore most +heavily on Gard, since the onslaught, when it came, must fall upon him, +and the absolute ignorance as to how and when and whence it might come, +kept every nerve within him strung like a fiddle-string. + +It was the eeriest experience he had ever had, that nightly trip across +the Coupee;--bad enough when moon or stars afforded him vague and +distorted glimpses of his ghostly surroundings:--ten times worse when +the flicker of his lantern barely kept him to the path, and the broken +gleams ran over the rugged edges and tumbled into the black gulfs at the +sides;--when every starting shadow might be a murderer leaping out upon +him, every foot of the walling darkness the murderer's cover, and every +step he took a step towards death. + +A trip, I assure you, that not many men would have been capable of. For +it did not by any means end with the Coupee. When he got to bed of a +night, and fell asleep at last, he was still crossing the Coupee with +his joggling lantern all night long, and suffered things in dreams +compared with which even his actual experiences were but holiday jaunts. + +And at times these grisly imaginings came back upon him as he actually +walked the narrow path next night, and it was all he could do to keep +his head and not fling the lantern into the depths of the pit and follow +it. + +They were all getting exceedingly weary of the whole business; indeed, +it was getting on all their nerves in a way which threatened +consequences, when, mercifully, the end came--suddenly, not at all as +they had looked for it, quite outside all their expectation. + +It was one of the shrouded nights. The Doctor and the Senechal, flat in +the heather, saw the lantern issue from the Sark cutting and come +joggling towards them. They heard a snort of surprise behind them, but +gave it no special heed. The Senechal grinned briefly at remembrance of +his fright when the beast snuffled down his neck that other night. + +Then, this is what happened. + +Gard--his lantern in his left hand, and the Senechal's father's +"dunderbush" in his right--his eyes pinching spooks out of every inch of +the black wall about him, and every string at its tightest--had reached +the crumbly bit of path near the Little Sark side, when, like a clap of +thunder out of a blue sky, the black silence of the cutting vomited +uproar--the wild clang and beat of what sounded, in that hollow space, +like the trampling of a thousand dancing hoofs--shrill neighings and +whinnyings and screamings, all blended into an indescribable and +blood-curdling clamour that gashed the night like an outrage. + +And then, before even he had time to wonder, the great white stallion +was upon him--dancing on its hind legs on that narrow path like an +acrobat, towering above him to twice his own height, striking savagely +down at him with its great front feet, screaming like a fiend. + +He had no time to think. His left arm and the lantern went up with the +natural instinct of defence. Just one glimpse he got--and never forgot +it--of vicious white eyes and teeth, flapping red nostrils, wild-flying +hair, and huge pawing feet descending on him, with the dirty white hair +splaying out all round them as they came down. Then his right hand went +up also, and he fired full into all these things. The lantern and the +blunderbuss went spinning into the gulf, the great feet beat him to the +ground, and rose and jabbed down at him with all the vicious might that +lay behind them--the savage white muzzle shrilling its blood-curdling +screams of triumph all the while--and all this in the space of a second. +"Good God!" cried the Doctor, craning over the eastern bank of the +cutting, but fearful of firing into the turmoil lest he should hit Gard, +so dropped himself bodily over on to the path. + +Then the Senechal's Sark eyes saw the great white head, with its flying +veil of hair, as it towered up for another vicious jab at the fallen +man, and he emptied both barrels of his gun into it. + +A wild scream that shrilled along the night and woke Plaisance and Clos +Bourel and Vauroque, and the great white devil reared to his fullest +with wildly beating forefeet, toppled over backwards, and disappeared +with one hideous thud and a final crash on the shingle of Coupee Bay. + +It was worse than they had ever dreamed--as bad almost as some of Gard's +own nightmares. + +"Good God! Good God! Good God!" babbled the Doctor, as he groped in the +dark for what might be left of their unfortunate decoy. + +"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!" gasped the Senechal, with catching +breath and shaking legs, as he ran round to join him in the search. + +But there was no sign of Gard. + +"Run, man!--Plaisance--a light!" jerked the Senechal. + +"I can't see," groaned the Doctor. + +"I'll go!" and he set off at the best pace his years and his shaking +legs could compass. + +Plaisance was standing at its doors, trembling still at that fearsome +cry, and wondering if it was, perchance, the last trump. + +At sight of the panting figure coming up from the Coupee, it scuttled +and banged the doors tight. "Open! Open, you fools!" cried the +Senechal, and flung himself against the first door, while those inside, +under the sure belief that they were keeping out the devil, heaped +themselves against it to prevent him. + +"Dolts! Idiots! Fools!" he cried. "It's me--the Senechal. I want your +help!" and at that a man peeped out from the next door to make sure this +was not just another wile of the devil. + +"A lantern! Quick!" ordered the Senechal. "And a blanket and a rope--and +get ready a bed for a wounded man. Come you with me and help!" + +"Mais, mon Gyu----!" began the man. + +"We've killed the devil, and the Doctor's down there with him----" + +"But we don't want him here, M. le Senechal," quavered a woman's voice, +in terror. + +"Fools! It's Mr. Gard that is hurt. The devil's down in Coupee Bay, and +we've killed him for you." + +"Ah then, Gyu marchi! Here's a blanket--and the lantern--rope's in barn. +You get a bed ready," to the woman, and they went off towards the +Coupee. + +And mighty glad the Doctor was to see them coming. He had begun to fear +the Senechal had lost his head and made a bolt for home. + +He had been sitting under the bank of the cutting as the surest way of +keeping out of one or other of the black gulfs. But the interval had +given him time to recover himself, and he jumped up at once, all ready +for business, and hailed them. + +"Down this side, I think," he said, and they swung the lantern over the +Grande Greve slope below the bit of crumbly pathway. + +"Le velas!" said Thomas Carre, and handed the lantern to the Senechal, +and let himself heavily over the side, and groped his way down to the +motionless form among the bramble bushes. + +"Pardie, he is dead, I do think!" as he bent over it. + +"Let's see!" said the Doctor's quick voice at his elbow. "Hand down the +light;" and the Senechal waited above in grievous anxiety. + +"Not dead," said the Doctor at last. "Stunned and badly knocked about. +He'll come round. Now, how are we to get him up?" + +"Here's a blanket--and a rope." + +"Good! The blanket!... So!... Now--gently, my man!... Got it, Senechal? +Right! Ease him down on to the path. That's right! Give me a hand, will +you? My legs aren't as limber as they used to be. Now we'll get him on +to a bed and see what the damage is;" and they set off slowly for +Plaisance. + +"My God, Senechal! That passed belief! To think of our never thinking of +that infernal brute!" said the Doctor, as they stumbled slowly along in +the joggling light. + +"He was possessed of the devil, without a doubt. That last scream of his +when he got my two bullets--" + +"'T woke us," said Carre. "And we wondered what was up. What was it, +then, monsieur?" + +"That devil of a white stallion of Le Pelley's. It was him killed Tom +Hamon and Peter Mauger, and he tried to kill Mr. Gard. We've been on +this job for weeks past, while you were all sleeping in your beds." + +"Mon Gyu! and we none of us knew anything about it till we heard yon +scream! And he's dead----" + +"He's dead--unless he's the devil," said the Senechal sententiously. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +HOW THEY THANKED GOD FOR HIS MERCIES + + +Vast was the wonder of the Sark folk when they heard next day of that +night's doings, and learned who the murderer of the Coupee was, and how +and by whom he had been laid by the heels. + +The whole Island breathed freely once more, and was outspokenly grateful +to the courage and pertinacity which had lifted from it the cloud and +the reproach. + +Some of them even had the grace to be not a little ashamed of their +previous doings, but ascribed the greater part of the blame to Tom's +widow and Peter Mauger. + +But it was days before Stephen Gard took any interest in the matter, +past or present, or in anything whatsoever. + +The Doctor's pad undoubtedly saved his life, but no amount of padding +could avert entirely the fiendish malignity of those merciless iron +flails. + +He lay unconscious for eight-and-forty hours; and the Doctor--though he +never breathed a word of it, and prophesied complete recovery with the +utmost cheerfulness and apparent sincerity--had his own grim fears as to +what the effect of the whole hideous event might be on one who had +already suffered such undue strain of mind and body. + +Fortunately, his fears proved groundless. On the third day, Gard +quietly opened his eyes on Nance, who had barely left his bedside since +the Senechal went down to La Closerie himself and brought her back with +him to Plaisance. + +"I've been asleep," he said drowsily. "Anything wrong, Nance dear?" and +he tried to sit up, but found his head heavy with cold water bandages, +and a pain about his neck and left shoulder, and his left arm in +splints, and all the rest of him one great aching bruise. + +"Why--" he murmured, in vast surprise. + +"You're to lie quite still," said Nance dictatorially, with lifted +finger. "And you're not to talk or think till the Doctor comes." + +"Give me a kiss, then!"--good prima facie evidence, this, that his brain +had suffered no permanent injury. + +"Well, he didn't say anything about that," and she bent over him and +kissed him with a brimming flood of gratitude in her blue eyes, and he +lay quiet for a time. + +"Is it dead?" he asked suddenly, with a reminiscent shudder which set +all his bruises aching. + +"The white horse? Yes, Dieu merci, it's dead! But you're not to talk or +think." + +"Give me another kiss, then!"--from which it was apparent that he knew +very well what kind of medicine was best adapted to his ailments. + +The Doctor came down to see him the very first thing every morning, and +now he came quietly in, just as Nance had been administering her latest +dose. + +"Ah--ha, nurse! What are you doing to my patient!" + +"I'm only keeping him quiet, sir, as you told me to," said Nance, with a +rosy face. + +"It's the doctor you ought to pay, not the patient. Well, my boy, how +are we this morning? Head aching yet?" + +"It does feel a bit queer. Tell me all about last night, Doctor!" + +"Ah--ha, yes--last night! Well, you caught the murderer with a +vengeance, my boy--or he caught you,"--and then, seeing the puzzlement +in the tired eyes, he briefly explained the whole matter. + +"And do you mean it was that awful beast killed the others?" + +"Without a doubt--and would have killed you in exactly the same way, and +exactly the same place, but for my pads and the Senechal's bullets. +Queer thing--they found the brute lying all in a heap in Coupee Bay on +the very spot where Tom Hamon and Peter Mauger were found." + +"Ay-y-y-y-y!" breathed Gard, with a long sigh of relief and a shiver. "I +shall never forget him." + +"Oh yes, you will--in time. Think of little Nance here. She's a sight +better worth thinking of. And now, Miss Nancy, how much good news can +you stand all at once, if you try your very hardest?" he asked, with a +sparkle in his eyes that somehow seemed to set hers sparkling too. + +"Oh made, Doctor!" and the little hands clasped up on her breast, as was +her way when greatly moved. "Not----?" + +She dared not hope for so much--the wish of her heart--just an inch or +so behind the desire for Gard's recovery. + +"The cutter this morning brought over one we had feared was lost----" + +"Not--not Bernel?" + +"Yes, my child, Bernel, by God's good mercy! He was picked up by a +Granville trawler, and lay there ill for some days, and could only get +back by Jersey and Guernsey. He was to come along with the Senechal in a +quarter of an hour--" + +But Nance had fallen on her knees and buried her face in the +bed-clothes, lest any but God should see it in the rapture of its +breaking. + +"Dieu merci! Dieu merci! Dieu merci!" she was crying, though none of +them heard it. + +And "Thank God!" said Stephen Gard with fervour--for Bernel, and for +himself, but most of all for Nance. + + + NOTE.--The names used in this book are necessarily the names + still current in Sark. None of the characters presented, + however, are in any way connected with any persons now living + in the Island. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MAID OF THE SILVER SEA*** + + +******* This file should be named 14832.txt or 14832.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/8/3/14832 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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