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diff --git a/16666.txt b/16666.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..969bd53 --- /dev/null +++ b/16666.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12209 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Carette of Sark, by John Oxenham + +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: Carette of Sark + +Author: John Oxenham + +Release Date: September 6, 2005 [EBook #16666] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CARETTE OF SARK *** + + + + +Produced by Steven Gibbs, Melissa Er-Raqabi and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + +CARETTE OF SARK + +BY JOHN OXENHAM + +AUTHOR OF "WHITE FIRE" "HEARTS IN EXILE" "BARBE OF GRAND BAYOU" +"JOHN OF GERISAU" ETC. + +WITH SIXTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS, FROM PHOTOGRAPHS +OF SARK, SPECIALLY TAKEN FOR THIS BOOK + +HODDER AND STOUGHTON +LONDON MCMVII + + + + +WORKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR + +GOD'S PRISONER +RISING FORTUNES +A PRINCESS OF VASCOVY +BONDMAN FREE +OUR LADY OF DELIVERANCE +JOHN OF GERISAU +UNDER THE IRON FLAIL +BARBE OF GRAND BAYOU +HEARTS IN EXILE +JOSEPH SCORER +A WEAVER OF WEBS +WHITE FIRE +THE GATE OF THE DESERT +GIANT CIRCUMSTANCE +PROFIT AND LOSS +THE LONG ROAD + + + + +TO +WILLIAM FREDERICK COLLINGS, ESQ. +Seigneur of Sark + +AND + +JOHN LINWOOD PITTS, ESQ., F.S.A. (Normandy) +Managing Director +of the Guille-Alles Library, Guernsey + +AND ALL THOSE GOOD FRIENDS IN THE ISLANDS +WHO HAVE SHOWN SO GREAT AN INTEREST IN THIS BOOK +I INSCRIBE THE SAME +IN HEARTY RECOGNITION OF MANY KINDNESSES + + + + +_FOREWORD_ + + +_Sercq is a small exclusive land where the forty farm holdings to-day are +almost identical with those fixed by Helier de Carteret in the time of +Queen Elizabeth; where feudal observances which date back to the time of +Rollo, Duke of Normandy, are still the law of the land; and where family +names and records in some cases run back unbroken for very many +generations._ + +_To obviate any personal feeling, I desire to state that, to the best of my +belief, no present inhabitant of Sercq is in any way connected with any of +the principal characters named in this book._ + +_The name Carre is still an honoured one in the Island. It is pronounced +Caury._ + +_The numbers on the map refer to the farms and tenants in the year +1800--the approximate date of the story. As this map has been specially +compiled, and is, I believe, the only one of its kind in existence, it may +be of interest to some to find at the end of this volume a list of the +holdings and holders in Sercq about one hundred years ago._ + + * * * * * + +_The photographs from which this book is illustrated were specially taken +for me at considerable expenditure of time and trouble by various good +friends in Sark and elsewhere. If, in one or two cases, we have permitted +ourselves some little license in the adaptation of the present to the past, +it is only for the purpose of presenting to the reader as nearly as +possible what was in the writer's mind when working on the story._ + + * * * * * + +_The map and list of the Forty Men of Sark and their properties in the year +1800 were compiled for me from the old Island records, by my friend Mr. +W.A. Toplis, over twenty years resident in Sark, and for all the time and +labour he expended upon them I here make most grateful acknowledgment._ + + * * * * * + +_The length of the Coupee depends upon--one's feelings, one's temperament, +and the exact spots where it really begins and ends. To the nervous it +seems endless, and some have found themselves unable to cross it under any +conditions whatever. So high an authority as Ansted gives it as 600 feet, +others say 300; the simple fact being that, unless one goes for the express +methodic purpose of measuring it (which no one ever does), all thought, +save that of wonder and admiration, is lost the moment one's foot falls +upon it. The span from cliff to cliff is probably something over 300 feet, +while, from the dip of the path in Sark to the clearing of the rise in +Little Sark, it is probably twice as much._ + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER I PAGE +HOW PAUL MARTEL FELL OUT WITH SERCQ 1 + +CHAPTER II +HOW RACHEL CARRE WENT BACK TO HER FATHER 14 + +CHAPTER III +HOW TWO FOUGHT IN THE DARK 19 + +CHAPTER IV +HOW MARTEL RAISED THE CLAMEUR BUT FOUND NO RELIEF 24 + +CHAPTER V +HOW CARETTE AND I WERE GIRL AND BOY TOGETHER 31 + +CHAPTER VI +HOW CARETTE CAME BY HER GOLDEN BRIDGE 43 + +CHAPTER VII +HOW I SHOWED ONE THE WAY TO THE BOUTIQUES 53 + +CHAPTER VIII +HOW I WENT THE FIRST TIME TO BRECQHOU 65 + +CHAPTER IX +HOW WE BEGAN TO SPREAD OUR WINGS 77 + +CHAPTER X +HOW I BEARDED LIONS IN THEIR DENS 85 + +CHAPTER XI +HOW WE GREW, AND GROWING, GREW APART 94 + +CHAPTER XII +HOW AUNT JEANNE GAVE A PARTY 100 + +CHAPTER XIII +HOW WE RODE GRAY ROBIN 117 + +CHAPTER XIV +HOW YOUNG TORODE TOOK THE DEVIL OUT OF BLACK BOY 130 + +CHAPTER XV +HOW I FELT THE GOLDEN SPUR 142 + +CHAPTER XVI +HOW I WENT TO SEE TORODE OF HERM 156 + +CHAPTER XVII +HOW I WENT OUT WITH JOHN OZANNE 167 + +CHAPTER XVIII +HOW WE CAME ACROSS MAIN ROUGE 172 + +CHAPTER XIX +HOW I FELL INTO THE _RED HAND_ 184 + +CHAPTER XX +HOW I LAY IN THE CLEFT OF A ROCK 197 + +CHAPTER XXI +HOW I FACED DEATHS AND LIVED 202 + +CHAPTER XXII +HOW THE _JOSEPHINE_ CAME HOME 214 + +CHAPTER XXIII +HOW I LAY AMONG LOST SOULS 222 + +CHAPTER XXIV +HOW I CAME ACROSS ONE AT AMPERDOO 230 + +CHAPTER XXV +HOW WE SAID GOOD-BYE TO AMPERDOO 237 + +CHAPTER XXVI +HOW WE FOUND A FRIEND IN NEED 246 + +CHAPTER XXVII +HOW WE CAME UPON A WHITED SEPULCHRE AND FELL INTO THE FIRE 253 + +CHAPTER XXVIII +HOW WE WALKED INTO THE TIGER'S MOUTH 264 + +CHAPTER XXIX +HOW THE HAWK SWOOPED DOWN ON BRECQHOU 277 + +CHAPTER XXX +HOW I FOUND MY LOVE IN THE CLEFT 283 + +CHAPTER XXXI +HOW I HELD THE NARROW WAY 294 + +CHAPTER XXXII +HOW WE WENT TO EARTH 307 + +CHAPTER XXXIII +HOW LOVE COULD SEE IN THE DARK 312 + +CHAPTER XXXIV +HOW LOVE FOUGHT DEATH IN THE DARK 324 + +CHAPTER XXXV +HOW WE HEARD STRANGE NEWS 332 + +CHAPTER XXXVI +HOW A STORM CAME OUT OF THE WEST 338 + +CHAPTER XXXVII +HOW WE HELD OUR HOMES 348 + +CHAPTER XXXVIII +HOW WE RAN AGAINST THE LAW FOR THE SAKE OF A WOMAN 357 + +CHAPTER XXXIX +HOW I CAME INTO RICH TREASURE 373 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + +THE WEST COAST OF SARK AND BRECQHOU _Frontispiece_ +THE CREUX ROAD _Facing Page_ 5 +HAVRE GOSSELIN 19 +TINTAGEU 47 +THE LADY GROTTO 65 +A QUIET LANE 117 +THE EPERQUERIE 132 +IN THE CLEFT OF A ROCK 197 +BELOW BEAUMANOIR 226 +BRECQHOU FROM THE SOUTH 273 +THE COUPEE 297 +THE CHASM OF THE BOUTIQUES 308 +THE WATER CAVE 321 +EPERQUERIE BAY 349 +DIXCART BAY 352 +CREUX TUNNEL 355 + + + + + + + +CHAPTER I + +HOW PAUL MARTEL FELL OUT WITH SERCQ + + +To give you a clear understanding of matters I must begin at the beginning +and set things down in their proper order, though, as you will see, that +was not by any means the way in which I myself came to learn them. + +For my mother and my grandfather were not given to overmuch talk at the +best of times, and all my boyish questionings concerning my father left me +only the bare knowledge that, like many another Island man in those +times--ay, and in all times--he had gone down to the sea and had never +returned therefrom. + +That was too common a thing to require any explanation, and it was not till +long afterwards, when I was a grown man, and so many other strange things +had happened that it was necessary, or at all events seemly, that I should +know all about my father, that George Hamon, under the compulsion of a very +strange and unexpected happening, told me all he knew of the matter. + +This, then, that I tell you now is the picture wrought into my own mind by +what I gathered from him and from others, regarding events which took place +when I was close upon three years old. + +And first, let me say that I hold myself a Sercq man born and bred, in +spite of the fact that--well, you will come to that presently. And I count +our little isle of Sercq the very fairest spot on earth, and in that I am +not alone. The three years I spent on ships trading legitimately to the +West Indies and Canada and the Mediterranean made me familiar with many +notable places, but never have I seen one to equal this little pearl of all +islands. + +You will say that, being a Sercq man, that is quite how I ought to feel +about my own Island. And that is true, but, apart from the fact that I have +lived there the greater part of my life, and loved there, and suffered +there, and enjoyed there greater happiness than comes to all men, and that +therefore Sercq is to me what no other land ever could be,--apart from all +that, I hold, and always shall hold, that in the matter of natural beauty, +visible to all seeing eyes, our little Island holds her own against the +world. + +My grandfather, who had voyaged even more widely than myself, always said +the same, and he was not a man given to windy talk, nor, indeed, as I have +said, to overmuch talk of any kind. + +And for the opening of my eyes to the rare delight and full enjoyment of +the simple things of Nature, just as God has fashioned them with His +wonderful tools, the wind, the wave, and the weather, I have to thank my +mother, Rachel Carre, and my grandfather, Philip Carre,--for that and very +much more. + +It has occurred to me at times, when I have been thinking over their lives +as I knew them,--the solitariness, the quietness, the seeming grayness and +dead levelness of them,--that possibly their enjoyment and apprehension of +the beauty of all things about them, the small things as well as the +great, were given to them to make up, as it were, for the loss of other +things, which, however, they did not seem to miss, and I am quite sure +would not have greatly valued. If they had been richer, more in the +world,--busier they hardly could have been, for the farm was but a small +one and not very profitable, and had to be helped by the fishing,--perhaps +they might not have found time to see and understand and enjoy those +simpler, larger matters. But some may look upon that as mere foolishness, +and may quote against me M. La Fontaine's fable about the fox and the +grapes. I do not mind. Their grapes ripened and were gathered, and mine are +in the ripening. + +Sercq, in the distance, looks like a great whale basking on the surface of +the sea and nuzzling its young. That is a feature very common to our +Islands; for time, and the weather, and the ever-restless sea wear through +the softer veins, which run through all our Island rocks, just as +unexpected streaks of tenderness may be found in the rough natures of our +Island men. And so, from every outstanding point, great pieces become +detached and form separate islets, between which and the parent isles the +currents run like mill-races and take toll of the unwary and the stranger. +So, Sercq nuzzles Le Tas, and Jethou Crevichon, and Guernsey Lihou and the +Hanois, and even Brecqhou has its whelp in La Givaude. Herm alone, with its +long white spear of sand and shells, is like a sword-fish among the nursing +whales. + +In the distance the long ridge of Sercq looks as bare and uninteresting as +would the actual back of a basking whale. It is only when you come to a +more intimate acquaintance that all her charms become visible. Just as I +have seen high-born women, in our great capital city of London, turn cold +unmoved faces to the crowd but smile sweetly and graciously on their +friends and acquaintances. + +As you draw in to the coast across the blue-ribbed sea, which, for three +parts of the year, is all alive with dancing sunflakes, the smooth bold +ridge resolves itself into deep rents and chasms. The great granite cliffs +stand out like the frowning heads of giants, seamed and furrowed with ages +of conflict. The rocks are wrought into a thousand fantastic shapes. The +whole coast is honeycombed with caves and bays, with chapelles and arches +and flying buttresses, among which are wonders such as you will find +nowhere else in the world. And the rocks are coloured most wondrously by +that which is in them and upon them, and perhaps the last are the most +beautiful, for their lichen robes are woven of silver, and gold, and gray, +and green, and orange. When the evening sun shines full upon the Autelets, +and sets them all aflame with golden fire, they become veritable altars and +lift one's soul to worship. He would be a bold man who would say he knew a +nobler sight, and I should doubt his word at that, until I had seen it with +my own eyes. + +The great seamed rocks of the headlands are black, and white, and red, and +pink, and purple, and yellow; while up above, the short green herbage is +soft and smooth as velvet, and the waving bracken is like a dark green robe +of coarser stuff lined delicately with russet gold. + +Now I have told you all this because I have met people whose only idea of +Sercq was of a storm-beaten rock, standing grim and stark among the +thousand other rocks that bite up through the sea thereabouts. Whereas, in +reality, our Island is a little paradise, gay with flowers all the year +round. For the gorse at all events is always aflame, even in the +winter--and then in truth most of all, both inside the houses and out; for, +inside, the dried bushes flame merrily in the wide hearthplaces, while, +outside, the prickly points still gleam like gold against the wintry gray. +And the land is fruitful too in trees and shrubs, though, in the more +exposed places, it is true, the trees suffer somewhat from the lichen, +which blows in from the sea, and clings to their windward sides, and slowly +eats their lives away. + +And now to tell you of that which happened when I was three years old, and +I will make it all as clear as I can, from all that I have been able to +pick up, and from my knowledge of the places which are still very much as +they were then. + +The front door of our Island is the tunnel in the rock cut by old Helier de +Carteret nearly three hundred years ago. Standing in the tunnel, you see on +one side the shingle of the beach where the boats lie but poorly sheltered +from the winter storms, though we are hoping before long to have a +breakwater capable of affording better shelter than the present one. You +see also the row of great capstans at the foot of the cliff by which the +boats are hauled as far out of reach of the waves as possible, though +sometimes not far enough. Through the other end of the tunnel you look into +the Creux Road, which leads straight up to the life and centre of the +Island. + +Facing due east and sloping sharply to the sea, this narrow way between the +hills gets all the sun, and on a fine summer's morning grows drowsy with +the heat. The crimson and creamy-gold of the opening honeysuckle swings +heavy with its own sweetness. The hart's-tongue ferns, matted all over the +steep banks, hang down like the tongues of thirsty dogs. The bees blunder +sleepily from flower to flower. The black and crimson butterflies take +short flights and long panting rests. Even the late wild roses seem less +saucily cheerful than usual, and the branching ferns on the hillsides look +as though they were cast in bronze. + +I have seen it all just so a thousand times, and have passed down from the +sweet blowing wind above to the crisp breath of the sea below, without +wakening the little valley from its sleep. + +But on one such day it had a very rude awakening. For, without a moment's +warning, half the population of the Island came pouring down the steep way +towards the sea. First came four burly fishermen in blue guernseys and +stocking caps, carrying between them, in a sling of ropes, a fifth man, +whose arms and legs were tightly bound. His dark face was bruised and +discoloured, and darker still with the anger that was in him. He was a +powerful man and looked dangerous even in his bonds. + +Behind these came Pierre Le Masurier, the Senechal, and I can imagine how +tight and grim his face would be set to a job which he did not like. For, +though he was the magistrate of the Island, and held the law in his own +hands, with the assistance of his two connetables, Elie Guille and Jean +Vaudin, they were all just farmers like the rest. M. le Senechal was, +indeed, a man of substance, and had acquired some learning, and perhaps +even a little knowledge of legal matters, but he trusted chiefly to his +good common-sense in deciding the disputes which now and again sprang up +among his neighbours. And as for Elie Guille and Jean Vaudin, they had very +little to do as officers of the law, but had their hands very full with the +farming and fishing and care of their families, and when they had to turn +constable it was somewhat against the grain, and they did it very mildly, +and gave as little offence as possible. + +And behind M. le Senechal came two or three more men and half the women and +children of the Island, the women all agog with excitement, the children +dodging in and out to get a glimpse of the bound man. And none of them said +a word. The only sound was the grinding of the heavy boots in front, and +the bustle of the passage of such a crowd along so narrow a way. There had +been words and to spare up above. This was the end of the matter and of the +man in bonds, so far as the Island was concerned,--at least that was the +intention. There was no exultation fever the prisoner, no jibes and jeers +such as might have been elsewhere. They were simply interested to see the +end. + +Behind them all, slowly, and as though against his will yet determined to +see it out, came a tall man of middle age, like the rest half farmer, half +fisherman, but of a finer--and sadder--countenance than any there. When all +the rest poured noisily through the tunnel and spread out along the +shingle, he stood back among the capstans under the cliff and watched +quietly. + +The bearers placed their burden in one of the boats drawn up on the beach, +and straightened their backs gratefully. They ran the boat rasping over the +stones into the water, and two of them sprang in and rowed steadily out to +sea. The others stood, hands on hips, watching them silently till the boat +turned the corner of Les Laches and passed out of sight, and then their +tongues were loosed. + +"So!" said one. "That's the end of Monsieur Martel." + +"Nom de Gyu! We'll hope so," said the other. "But I'd sooner seen him dead +and buried." + +"'Crais b'en!" said the other with a knowing nod. For all the world knew +that if Paul Martel had never come to Sercq, Rachel Carre might have become +Mistress Hamon instead of Madame Martel--and very much better for her if +she had. + +For Martel, in spite of his taking ways and the polished manners of his +courting days, had proved anything but a good husband, and he had wound up +a long period of indifference and neglect with a grievous bodily assault +which had stirred the clan spirit of the Islanders into active reprisal. +They would make of it an object-lesson to the other Island girls which +would be likely to further the wooings of the Island lads for a long time +to come. + +Martel, you see, came from Guernsey, but he was only half a Guernsey man at +that. His father was a Manche man from Cherbourg, who happened to get +wrecked on the Hanois, and settled and married in Peter Port. Paul Martel +had grown up to the sea. He had sailed to foreign parts and seen much of +the world. He was an excellent sailor, and when he tired of a roving life +turned his abilities to account in those peculiar channels of trade which +the situation of the Islands and their ancient privileges particularly +fitted them for. The Government in London had, indeed, tried, time after +time, to suppress the free-trading, and passed many laws and ordinances +against it, but these attempts had so far only added zest to the business, +and seemed rather to stimulate that which they were intended to suppress. + +Martel was successful as a smuggler, and might in time have come to own his +own boat and run his own cargoes if he had kept steady. + +The Government now and again had harsh fits which made things difficult for +the time being in Guernsey, and at such times the smaller islands were +turned to account, and the goods were stored and shipped from there. And +that is how he came to frequent Sercq and made the acquaintance of Rachel +Carre. + +George Hamon, I know, never to his dying day forgave himself for having +been the means of bringing Martel to Sercq, and truly he got paid for it as +bitterly as man could. + +Martel might, indeed, have found his way there in any case, but that, to +Hamon, did not in any degree lessen the weight of the fact that it was he +brought him there to assist in some of his free-trading schemes. And if he +had guessed what was to come of it, he would never have handled keg or bale +as long as he lived rather than, with his own hand, spoil his life as he +did. + +For a time they were very intimate, he and Martel. Then Martel made up to +Rachel Carre, and their friendship turned to hatred, the more venomous for +what had gone before. + +But even George Hamon admits that Paul Martel was an unusually good-looking +fellow, with very attractive manners when he chose, and a knowledge of the +world and its ways, and of men and women, beyond the ordinary, and he won +Rachel Carre's heart against her head and in the teeth of her father's +opposition. + +Perhaps if her mother had been alive things might have been different. But +she died when Rachel was eight years old, and her father was much away at +the fishing, for the farm was poorer then than it became afterwards, and +Martel found his opportunities and turned them to account. + +I do not pretend to understand fully how it came about--beyond the fact +that the little god of love goes about his work blindfold, and that women +do the most unaccountable things at times. Even in the most momentous +matters they are capable of the most grievous mistakes, though, on the +other hand, that same heart instinct also leads them at times to wisdom +beyond the gauging of man's intelligence. A man reasons and keeps tight +hand on his feelings; a woman feels and knows; and sometimes a leap in the +dark lands one safely, and sometimes not. + +To make a long story short, however, Paul Martel and Rachel Carre were +married, to the great surprise of all Rachel's friends and to the great +grief of her father. + +Martel built a little cottage at the head of the chasm which drops into +Havre Gosselin, and her father, Philip Carre, lived lonely on his little +farm of Belfontaine, by Port a la Jument, with no companion but his dumb +man Krok. + +Rachel seemed quite happy in her marriage. There had been many predictions +among the gossips as to its outcome, and sharp eyes were not lacking to +detect the first signs of the fulfilment of prophecy, nor reasons for +visits to the cottage at La Fregondee with a view to discovering them. And +perhaps Rachel understood all that perfectly well. She was her father's +daughter, and Philip Carre was one of the most intelligent and +deep-thinking men I have ever met. + +Her nearest neighbour and chief friend was Jeanne Falla of Beaumanoir, +widow of Peter Le Marchant, whose brother John lived on Brecqhou and made a +certain reputation there both for himself and the island. She was old +enough to have been Rachel's mother, and Rachel may have confided in her. +If she did so her confidence was never abused, for Jeanne Falla could talk +more and tell less than any woman I ever knew, and that I count a very +great accomplishment. + +She was a Guernsey woman by birth, but had lived on Sercq for over twenty +years. Her husband was drowned while vraicking a year after they were +married, and she had taken the farm in hand and made more of it than ever +he would have done if he had lived to be a hundred, for the Le Marchants +always tended more to the sea than to the land, though Jeanne Falla's +Peter, I have been told, was more shore-going than the rest. She had no +child of her own, and that was the only lack in her life. She made up for +it by keeping an open heart to all other children, whereby many gained +through her loss, and her loss turned to gain even for herself. + +When Rachel's boy came she made as much of him as if he had been her own. +And the two between them named him Philip Carre after his +grandfather,--instinct, maybe, or possibly simply with the idea of pleasing +the old man, whose heart had never come fully round to the +marriage,--happily done, whatever the reason. + +For Martel, outside business matters, which needed a clear head and all a +man's wits about him unless he wanted to run himself and his cargoes into +trouble, soon proved himself unstable as water. The nature of his business +tended to conviviality. Successful runs were celebrated, and fresh ones +planned, and occasional losses consoled, in broached kegs which cost +little. Success or failure found equal satisfaction in the flowing bowl, +and no home happiness ever yet came out of a bung-hole. + +Then, too, Rachel Carre had been brought up by her father in a simple, +perhaps somewhat rigorous, faith, which in himself developed into +Quakerism. I have thought it not impossible that in that might be found +some explanation of her action in marrying Paul Martel. Perhaps her father +drew the lines somewhat tightly, and her opening life craved width and +colour, and found the largest possibilities of them in the rollicking young +stranger. Truly he brought colour enough and to spare into the sober gray +of her life. It was when the red blood started under his vicious blows that +their life together ended. + +Martel had no beliefs whatever, except in himself and his powers of +outwitting any preventive officer ever born. + +Rachel Carre's illusions died one by one. The colours faded, the gray +darkened. Martel was much away on his business; possibly also on his +pleasures. + +One night, after a successful run, he returned home very drunk, and +discovered more than usual cause for resentment in his wife's reproachful +silence. He struck her, wounding her to the flowing of blood, and she +picked up her boy and fled along the cliffs to Beaumanoir where Jeanne +Falla lived, with George Hamon not far away at La Vauroque. + +Jeanne Falla took her in and comforted her, and as soon as George Hamon +heard the news, he started off with a neighbour or two to Fregondee to +attend to Martel. + +In the result, and not without some tough fighting, for Martel was a +powerful man and furious at their invasion, they carried him in bonds to +the house of the Senechal, Pierre Le Masurier, for judgment. And M. le +Senechal, after due consideration, determined, like a wise man, to rid +himself of a nuisance by flinging it over the hedge, as one does the slugs +that eat one's cabbages. Martel came from Guernsey and was not wanted in +Sercq. To Guernsey therefore he should go, with instructions not to return +to Sercq lest worse should follow. Hence the procession that disturbed the +slumbers of the Creux Road that day. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +HOW RACHEL CARRE WENT BACK TO HER FATHER + + +"You paid off some of your old score up there, last night, George," said +one of the men who had stood watching the boat which carried Martel back to +Guernsey. + +"Just a little bit," said Hamon, as he rubbed his hand gently over a big +bruise on the side of his head. "He's a devil to fight and as strong as an +ox;" and they turned and followed the Senechal and Philip Carre through the +tunnel. + +"Good riddance!" said a woman in the crowd, taking off her black sun-bonnet +and giving it an angry shake before putting it on again. "We don't want any +of that kind here,"--with a meaning look at the big fishermen behind, which +set them grinning and winking knowingly. + +"Aw then, Mistress Guilbert," said one, lurching uncomfortably under her +gaze, with his hands deep in his trouser pockets. "We others know better +than that." + +"And a good thing for you, too. That kind of work won't go down in Sercq, +let me tell you. Ma fe, no!" and the crowd dribbled away through the tunnel +to get back to its work again. + +The Senechal was busy planting late cabbages and time was precious. The +grave-faced fisherman, who had stood behind the crowd, tramped up the +narrow road by his side. + +"Well, Carre, you're rid of him. I hope for good," said the Senechal. + +"Before God, I hope so, M. le Senechal! He has a devil." + +"How goes it with Mistress Rachel this morning?" + +"She says little." + +"But thinks the more, no doubt. She has suffered more than we know, I +fear." + +"Like enough." + +"I never could understand why she threw herself away on a man like that." + +"It was not for want of warning." + +"I am sure. Well, she has paid. I hope this ends it." + +But the other shook his head doubtfully, and as they parted at the +crossways, he said gloomily, "She'll know no peace till he's under the sea +or the sod." And the Senechal nodded and strode thoughtfully away towards +Beauregard, while Carre went on to Havre Gosselin. + +When he reached the cottage at the head of the chasm, he lifted the latch +and went in. He was confronted by a small boy of three or so, who at sound +of the latch had snatched a stick from the floor, with a frown of vast +determination on his baby face--an odd, meaningful action. + +At sight of Philip Carre, however, the crumpled face relaxed instantly, and +the youngster launched himself at him with a shout of welcome. + +At sound of the latch, too, a girlish figure had started up from the +lit-de-fouaille in the corner by the hearth--the great square couch built +out into the room and filled with dried bracken, the universal lounge in +the Islands, and generally of a size large enough to accommodate the entire +family. + +This was Carre's daughter, Rachel, Martel's wife. Her face was very comely. +She was the Island beauty when Martel married her, and much sought after, +which made her present state the more bitter to contemplate. Her face was +whiter even than of late, at the moment, by reason of the dark circles of +suffering round her eyes and the white cloth bound round her head. She sat +up and looked at her father, with the patient expectancy of one who had +endured much and doubted still what might be in store for her. + +Carre gripped the small boy's two hands in his big brown one, and the +youngster with a shout threw back his body and planted his feet on his +grandfather's leg, and walked up him until the strong right arm encircled +him and he was seated triumphantly in the crook of it. Whatever the old man +might have against his son-in-law there was no doubt as to his feeling for +the boy. + +"He is gone," he said, with a grave nod, in response to his daughter's +questioning look. "But I misdoubt him. You had much better come with me to +Belfontaine for a time, Rachel." + +She shook her head doubtfully. + +"He's an angry man, and if he should get back--" said her father. + +"In his right mind he would be sorry--" + +"I misdoubt him," he said again, with a sombre nod. "I shall have no peace +if you are here all alone...." + +But she shook her head dismally, with no sign of yielding. + +"It has been very lonely," he said. "You and the boy--" + +And she looked up at him, and the hunger of his face seemed to strike her +suddenly. She got up from the fern-bed and said, "Yes, we will come. My +troubles have made me selfish." + +"Now, God be praised! You lift a load from my heart, Rachel. You will come +at once? Put together what you will need and we will take it with us." + +"And the house?" + +"It will be all safe. If you like I will ask George Hamon to give an eye to +it while you are away. Perhaps--" Perhaps she would decide to remain with +him at Belfontaine, but experience had taught him to go one step at a time +rather than risk big leaps when he was not sure of his footing. + +So, while she gathered such things as she and the boy would need for a few +days' stay, he strode back down the sunny lane to La Vauroque, to leave +word of his wishes with Hamon's mother. + +And Philip Carre's heart was easier than it had been for many a day, as +they wound their way among the great cushions of gorse to his lonely house +at Belfontaine. And the small boy was jumping with joy, and the shadow on +his mother's face was lightened somewhat. For when one's life has broken +down, and untoward circumstances have turned one into a subject for +sympathetic gossip, it is a relief to get away from it all, to dwell for a +time where the clacking of neighbourly tongues cannot be heard, and where +sympathy is all the deeper for finding no expression in words. At +Belfontaine there was little fear of oversight or overhearing, for it lay +somewhat apart, and since his daughter's marriage Philip Carre had lived +there all alone with his dumb man Krok, who assisted him with the farm and +the fishing, and their visitors were few and far between. + +Now that jumping small boy was myself, and Rachel Carre was my mother, and +Philip Carre was my grandfather. But what I have been telling you is only +what I learned long afterwards, when I was a grown man, and it had become +necessary for me to know these things in explanation of others. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +HOW TWO FOUGHT IN THE DARK + + +When George Hamon told me the next part of the story of those early days, +his enjoyment in the recalling of certain parts of it was undisguised. He +told it with great gusto. + +As he lay that night on the fern-bed in the cottage above the chasm, he +thought of Rachel Carre, and what might have been if Martel's father had +only been properly drowned on the Hanois instead of marrying the Guernsey +woman. Rachel and he might have come together, and he would have made her +as happy as the day was long. And now--his life was empty, and Rachel's was +broken,--and all because of this wretched half-Frenchman, with his knowing +ways and foreign beguilements. The girls had held him good-looking. Well, +yes, he was good-looking in a way, but it passed his understanding why any +Sercq girl should want to marry a foreigner while home lads were still to +be had. He did not think there would be much marrying outside the Island +for some time to come, but it was bitter hard that Rachel Carre should have +had to suffer in order to teach them that lesson. + +Gr-r-r! but he would like to have Monsieur Martel up before him just for +ten minutes or so, with a clear field and no favour. Martel was strong and +active, it was true, but there--he was a drinker, and a Frenchman at that, +and drink doesn't run to wind, and a Frenchman doesn't run to fists. Very +well--say twenty minutes then, and if he--George Hamon--did not make +Monsieur Martel regret ever having come to Sercq, he would deserve all he +got and would take it without a murmur. + +He was full of such imaginings, when at last he fell asleep, and he dreamt +that he and Martel met in a lonely place and fought. And so full of fight +was he that he rolled off the fern-bed and woke with a bump on the floor, +and regretted that it was only a dream. For he had just got Martel's head +comfortably under his left arm, and was paying him out in full for all he +had made Rachel Carre suffer, when the bump of his fall put an end to it. + +The following night he fell asleep at once, tired with a long day's work in +the fields. He woke with a start about midnight, with the impression of a +sound in his ears, and lay listening doubtfully. Then he perceived that his +ears had not deceived him. There was someone in the room,--or +something,--and for a moment all the superstitions among which he had been +bred crawled in his back hair and held his breath. + +Then a hand dropped out of the darkness and touched his shoulder, and he +sprang at the touch like a coiled spring. + +"Diable!" + +It was Martel's voice and usual exclamation, and in a moment Hamon had him +by the throat and they were whirling over the floor, upsetting the table +and scattering the chairs, and George Hamon's heart was beating like a +merry drum at feel of his enemy in the flesh. + +But wrestling blindly in a dark room did not satisfy him. That which was +in him craved more. He wanted to see what he was doing and the full effects +of it. + +He shook himself free. + +"Come outside and fight it out like a man--if you are one," he panted. "And +we'll see if you can beat a man as you can a woman." + +"Allons!" growled Martel. He was in the humour to rend and tear, and it +mattered little what. For the authorities in Guernsey, after due +deliberation, had decided that what was not good enough for Sercq was not +good enough for Guernsey, and had shipped him back with scant ceremony. He +had been flung out like a sack of rubbish onto the shingle in Havre +Gosselin, half an hour before, had scaled the rough track in the dark, with +his mouth full of curses and his heart full of rage, and George Hamon +thanked God that it was not Rachel and the boy he had found in the cottage +that night. + +Hamon slipped on his shoes and tied them carefully, and they passed out and +along the narrow way between the tall hedges. The full moon was just +showing red and sleepy-looking, but she would be white and wide awake in a +few minutes. The grass was thick with dew, and there was not a sound save +the growl of the surf on the rocks below. + +Through a gap in the hedge Hamon led the way towards Longue Pointe. + +"Here!" he said, as they came on a level piece, and rolled up the sleeves +of his guernsey. "Put away your knife;" and Martel, with a curse at the +implication, drew it from its sheath at his back and flung it among the +bracken. + +Then, without a word, they tackled one another. No gripping now, but hard +fell blows straight from the shoulder, warded when possible, or taken in +grim silence. They fought, not as men fight in battle,--for general +principles and with but dim understanding of the rights and wrongs of the +matter; but with the bitter intensity born of personal wrongs and the +desire for personal vengeance. To Hamon, Martel represented the grievous +shadow on Rachel Carre's life. To Martel, Hamon represented Sercq and all +the contumely that had been heaped upon him there. + +Their faces were set like rocks. Their teeth were clenched. They breathed +hard and quick--through their noses at first, but presently, and of +necessity, in short sharp gasps from the chest. + +It was a great fight, with none to see it but the placid moon, and so +strong was her light that there seemed to be four men fighting, two above +and two below. And at times they all merged into a writhing confusion of +fierce pantings and snortings as of wild beasts, but for the most part they +fought in grim silence, broken only by the whistle of the wind through +their swollen lips, the light thud of their feet on the trampled ground, +and the grisly sound of fist on flesh. And they fought for love of Rachel +Carre, which the one had not been able to win and the other had not been +able to keep. + +Martel was the bigger man, but Hamon's legs and arms had springs of hate in +them which more than counterbalanced. He was a temperate man too, and in +fine condition. He played his man with discretion, let him exhaust himself +to his heart's content, took with equanimity such blows as he could not +ward or avoid, and kept the temper of his hatred free from extravagance +till his time came. + +Martel lost patience and wind. Unless he could end the matter quickly his +chance would be gone. He did his best to close and finish it, but his +opponent knew better, and avoided him warily. They had both received +punishment. Hamon took it for Rachel's sake, Martel for his sins. His brain +was becoming confused with Hamon's quick turns and shrewd blows, and he +could not see as clearly as at first. At times it seemed to him that there +were two men fighting him. He must end it while he had the strength, and he +bent to the task with desperate fury. Then, as he was rushing on his foe +like a bull, with all his hatred boiling in his head, all went suddenly +dark, and he was lying unconscious with his face on the trodden grass, and +George Hamon stood over him, with his fists still clenched, all battered +and bleeding, and breathing like a spent horse, but happier than he had +been for many a day. + +Martel lay so still that a fear began to grow in Hamon that he was dead. He +had caught him deftly on the temple as he came on. He had heard of men +being killed by a blow like that. He knelt and turned the other gingerly +over, and felt his heart beating. And then the black eyes opened on him and +the whites of them gleamed viciously in the moonlight, and Hamon stood up, +and, after a moment's consideration, strode away and kicked about in the +bracken till he found the other's knife. Then he picked up his jacket, and +went back to the cottage with the knife in one hand and his jacket in the +other, and went inside and bolted the door, which was not a custom in +Sercq. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +HOW MARTEL RAISED THE CLAMEUR BUT FOUND NO RELIEF + + +George Hamon slept heavily that night while Nature repaired damages. In the +morning he had his head in a bucket of water from the well, when he heard +footsteps coming up the steep way from the shore, and as he shook the drops +out of his swollen eyes he saw that it was Philip Carre come in from his +fishing. + +"Hello, George--!" and Carre stopped and stared at his face, and knew at +once that what he had feared had come to pass.--"He's back then?" + +"It feels like it." + +"Where did you meet?" + +"He came in here in the middle of the night. We fought on Longue Pointe." + +"Where is he now?" + +"I left him in the grass with his wits out." + +"She'll have no peace till he's dead and buried," said Carre gloomily. + +Then they heard heavy footsteps in the narrow way between the hedges, and +both turned quickly with the same thought in their minds. But it was only +Philip Tanquerel coming down to see to his lobster pots, and at sight of +Hamon's face he grinned knowingly and drawled, "Bin falling out o' bed, +George?" + +"Yes. Fell on top of the Frenchman." + +"Fell heavy, seems to me. He's back then? I doubted he'd come if he wanted +to." + +Then more steps between the hedges, and Martel himself turned the corner +and came straight for the cottage. + +He made as though he would go in without speaking to the others, but George +Hamon planted himself in the doorway with a curt, "No, you don't!" + +"You refuse to let me into my own house?" + +"Yes, I do." + +"By what right?" + +"By this!" said Hamon, raising his fist. "If you want any more of it you've +only to say so. You're outcast. You've no rights here. Get away!" + +"I claim my rights," said Martel through his teeth, and fell suddenly to +his knees, and cried, "Haro! Haro! Haro! a l'aide mon prince! On me fait +tort." + +The three men looked doubtfully at one another for a moment, for this old +final appeal to a higher tribunal, in the name of Rollo, the first old +Norseman Duke, dead though he was this nine hundred years, was still the +law of the Islands and not to be infringed with impunity. + +All the same, when the other sprang up and would have passed into the +cottage, Hamon declined to move, and when Martel persisted, he struck at +him with his fist, and it looked as though the fight were to be renewed. + +"He makes Clameur, George," said Philip Tanquerel remonstratively. + +"He may make fifty Clameurs for me. Let him go to the Senechal and the +Greffier and lay the matter before them. He's not coming in here as long as +I've got a fist to lift against him." + +"You refuse?" said Martel blackly. + +"You had better go to the Greffier," said Philip Carre. "The Court will +have to decide it." + +"It is my house." + +"I'm in charge of it, and I won't give it up till the Senechal tells me to. +So there!" said Hamon. + +Martel turned on his heel and walked away, and the three stood looking +after him. + +"I'm not sure--" began Tanquerel, in his slow drawling way. + +"You're only a witness, anyway, Philip," said Hamon. "I'm the oppressor, +and if he comes again I'll give him some more of what he had last night. He +may Haro till he's hoarse, for me. Till the Senechal bids me go, I stop +here;" and Tanquerel shrugged his shoulders and went off down the slope to +his pots. + +"More trouble," said Carre gloomily. + +"We'll meet it--with our fists," said Hamon cheerfully. "M. le Senechal is +not going to be browbeaten by a man he's flung out of the Island." + +And so it turned out. The cutter had brought M. Le Masurier a letter from +the authorities in Guernsey which pleased him not at all. It informed him +that Martel, having married into Sercq and settled on Sercq, belonged to +Sercq, and they would have none of him, and were accordingly sending him +home again. + +When Martel appeared to lodge his complaint, and claim the old Island right +to cessation of oppression and trial of his cause, M. le Senechal was +prepared for him. It was not the man's fault that he was back on their +hands, and he said nothing about that. As to his complaint, however, he +drew a rigid line between the past and the future. In a word, he declined +to interfere in the matter of the cottage until the case should be tried +and the Court should give its judgment. + +"Hamon must not, of course, interfere with you any further. But neither +must you interfere with him," said the wise man. "If you should do so he +retains the right that every man has of defending himself, and will +doubtless exercise it." + +At which, when he heard it, George smiled crookedly through his swollen +lips and half-closed eyes, and Martel found himself out in the cold. + +He reconnoitred at a safe distance several times during the day, but each +time found Hamon smoking his pipe in the doorway, with a show of enjoyment +which his cut lips did not in reality permit. + +He stole down in the dark and quietly tried the bolted door, but got only a +sarcastic grunt for his pains. + +He tried to get a lodging elsewhere, but no one would receive him. + +He begged for food. No one would give him a crust, and everyone he asked +kept a watchful eye on him until he was clear of the premises. + +He pulled some green corn, and husked it between his hands, and tried to +satisfy his complaining stomach with that and half-ripe blackberries. + +He crept up to a farmsteading after dark, intent on eggs, a chicken, a +pigeon,--anything that might stay the clamour inside. The watch-dogs raised +such a riot that he crept away again in haste. + +The hay had been cut in the churchyard. That was No Man's Land, and none +had the right to hunt him out of it. So he made up a bed alongside a great +square tomb, and slept there that night, and scared the children as they +went past to school next morning. + +One of the cows at Le Port gave no milk that day, and Dame Vaudin pondered +the matter weightily, and discussed it volubly with her neighbours, but did +not try their remedies. + +During the day he went over to Little Sercq in hopes of snaring a rabbit. +But the rabbits understood him and were shy. When he found himself near the +Cromlech it suggested shelter, and creeping in to curl himself up for a +sleep, he came unexpectedly on a baby rabbit paralysed with fear at the +sight of him. It was dead before it understood what was happening. He tore +it in pieces with his fingers and ate it raw. They found its skin and bones +there later on. + +Under the stimulus of food his brain worked again. There was no room for +him in Sercq, that was evident. He was alien, and the clan spirit was too +strong for him. + +He crept back across the Coupee in the dark, and passed a man there who +bade him good-night, not knowing till afterwards who he was. + +Next morning, when Philip Carre came in from his fishing and climbed the +zigzag above Havre Gosselin, he was surprised at the sight of George Hamon +smoking in the doorway of the cottage. + +"Why, George, I thought you were off fishing," he said. + +"Why then?" + +"Your boat's away." And Hamon was leaping down the zigzag before he had +finished, while Carre followed more slowly. But no amount of anxious +staring across empty waters will bring back a boat that is not there. The +boat was gone and Paul Martel with it, and neither was seen again in Sercq. + +For many months Rachel Carre lived in instant fear of his unexpectedly +turning up again. But he never came, and in time her mind found rest. The +peace and aloofness of Belfontaine appealed to her, and at her father's +urgent desire she stayed on there, and gave herself wholly to the care of +the house and the training of her boy. The name of Martel, with its +unpleasant memories, was quietly dropped, and in time came to be almost +forgotten. The small boy grew up as Phil Carre, and knew no other name. + +I am assured that he was a fine, sturdy little fellow, and that he took +after his grandfather in looks and disposition. And his grandfather and +Krok delighted in him, and fed his hungry little mind from their own +hard-won experiences, and taught him all their craft as he grew able for +it, so that few boys of his age could handle boat and nets and lines as he +could. And Philip the elder, being of an open mind through his early +travels, and believing that God was more like to help them that helped +themselves than otherwise, made him a fearless swimmer, whereby the boy +gained mighty enjoyment and sturdy health, and later on larger things +still. + +But it was his mother who led him gently towards the higher things, and +opened the eyes of his understanding and the doors of his heart. She taught +him more than ever the schoolmaster could, and more than most boys of his +day knew. So that in time he came to see in the storms and calms, more than +simply bad times and good; and in the clear blue sky and starry dome, in +the magical unfoldings of the dawn and the matchless pageants of the +sunset, more than mere indications of the weather. + +Yet, withal, he was a very boy, full of life and the joy of it, and in +their loving watchfulness over his development his mother and grandfather +lost sight almost of the darker times out of which he had come, and looked +only to that which he might in time come to be. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +HOW CARETTE AND I WERE GIRL AND BOY TOGETHER + + +I suppose I could fill a great book with my recollections of those +wonderful days when I was a boy of twelve and Carette Le Marchant was a +girl of ten, and far and away the prettiest girl in Sercq,--or in Guernsey +or Jersey either, for that matter, I'll wager. And at that time I would +have fought on the spot any boy not too visibly beyond me who dared to hold +any other opinion. + +My mother and my grandfather did not by any means approve my endless +battles, I am bound to say, and I do not think I was by nature of a +quarrelsome disposition, but it seems to me now that a good deal of my time +was spent in boyish warfare, and as often as not Carette was in one way or +another accountable for it. + +Not that herself or her looks could be called in question. These spoke for +themselves, though I grant you she was a fiery little person and easily +provoked. If any attack was made on her looks or her doings it was usually +only for my provocation, as the knights in olden times flung down their +gauntlets by way of challenge. But there were other matters relating to +Carette, or rather to her family, which I could defend only with my fists, +and not at all with my judgment even at twelve years old, and only for her +sake who had, of herself, nothing whatever to do with them. + +For the Le Marchants of Brecqhou were known and held in a somewhat +wholesome respect of fear, by all grown-up dwellers in the Islands, from +Alderney to Jersey. + +It was not simply that they were bold and successful free-traders. +Free-trade--or, as some would call it, smuggling--was the natural commerce +of the Islands, and there were not very many whose fingers were not in the +golden pie. My grandfather, Philip Carre, was one, however, and he would +have starved sooner than live by any means which did not commend themselves +to his own very clear views of right and wrong. The Le Marchants had made +themselves a name for reckless daring, and carelessness of other people's +well-being when it ran counter to their own, which gave them right of way +among their fellows, but won comment harsh enough behind their backs. Many +a strange story was told of them, and as a rule the stories lost nothing in +the telling. + +But my boyish recollections of Carette,--Carterette in full, but shortened +by everyone to Carette, unless it was Aunt Jeanne Falla under very great +provocation, which did not, indeed, happen often but was not absolutely +unknown,--my recollections of Carette, and of my mother, and my +grandfather, and Krok, and George Hamon, and Jeanne Falla, are as bright +and rosy as the dawns and sunsets of those earlier days. + +All these seem to have been with me from the very beginning. They made up +my little world, and Carette was the sunlight,--and occasionally the +lightning,--and the moonlight was my mother, and the bright stars were +Jeanne Falla and George Hamon, while my grandfather was a benevolent power, +always kind but rather far above me, and Krok was a mystery man, dearly +loved, but held in something of awe by reason of his strange affliction. + +For Krok could hear and understand all that was said to him, even in our +Island tongue which was not native to him, but he had no speech. The story +ran that he had been picked off a piece of wreckage, somewhere off the +North African coast, by the ship in which my grandfather made his last +voyage, very many years ago. He was very intelligent and quick of hearing, +but dumb, and it was said that he had been captured by Algerine pirates +when a boy and had his tongue cut out by them. This, however, I was in a +position to contradict, for I had once got a glimpse of Krok's tongue and +so knew that he had one, though his face was so covered with hair that one +might have doubted almost if he even had a mouth. + +He was said to be Spanish. He was said to be Scotch. Wherever he was born, +he was by nature an honest man and faithful as a dog. My grandfather had +taken a liking to him, and when he quitted the sea Krok followed him, and +became his man and served him faithfully. He could neither read nor write +at that time, and his only vocal expression was a hoarse croak like the +cawing of a crow, and this, combined with ample play of head and hand and +facial expression and hieroglyphic gesture, formed his only means of +communication with his surroundings. + +The sailors called him Krok, from the sound he made when he tried to speak, +and Krok he remained. In moments of intense excitement he was said to have +delivered himself of the word "Gug" also, but doubts were cast upon this. +He was of a placid and obliging nature, a diligent and trustworthy worker, +and on the whole a cheerful companion with whom one could never fall +out--by word of mouth, at all events. + +He was short and broad but very powerful, and his face, where it was not +covered with hair, was seamed and meshed with little wrinkles, maybe from +pinching it up in the glare of the sun as a boy. His eyes were brown and +very like a dog's, and that was perhaps because he could not speak and +tried to tell you things with them. At times, when he could not make you +understand, they were full of a straining anxiety, the painful striving of +a dumb soul for utterance, which was very pitiful. + +I remember very well quite breaking down once, when I was a very little +fellow and was doing my best to explain something I wanted and could not +make him understand. In my haste I had probably begun in the middle and +left him to guess the beginning. Something I had certainly left out, for +all I could get from Krok was puzzled shakes of the head and anxious +snappings of the bewildered brown eyes. + +"Oh, Krok, what a stupid, stupid man you are!" I cried at last, and I can +see now the sudden pained pinching of the hairy face and the welling tears +in the troubled brown eyes. + +I flung my little arms half round his big neck and hugged myself tight to +him, crying, "Oh, Krok, I love you!" and he fondled me and patted me and +soothed me, and our discussion was forgotten. And after that, boy as I +was, and as wild and thoughtless as most, I do not think I ever wounded +Krok's soul again, for it was like striking a faithful dog or a horse that +was doing his best. + +But better times came--to Krok, at all events--when my mother began to +teach me my letters. + +That was in the short winter days and long evenings, when all the west was +a shrieking black fury, out of which hurtled blasts so overpowering that +you could lean up against them as against a wall, and with no more fear of +falling, and the roar of great waters was never out of our ears. + +In the daytime I would creep to the edge of the cliff, and lie flat behind +a boulder, and watch by the hour the huge white waves as they swept round +the Moie de Batarde and came ripping along the ragged side of Brecqhou like +furious white comets, and hurled themselves in thunder on our Moie de +Mouton and Tintageu. Then the great granite cliffs and our house up above +shook with their pounding, and Port a la Jument and Pegane Bay were all +aboil with beaten froth, and the salt spume came flying over my head in +great sticky gouts, and whirled away among the seagulls feeding in the +fields behind. When gale and tide played the same way, the mighty strife +between the incoming waves and the Race of the Gouliot passage was a thing +to be seen. For the waves that had raced over a thousand miles of sea split +on the point of Brecqhou, and those that took the south side piled +themselves high in the great basin formed by Brecqhou and the Gouliot rocks +and Havre Gosselin, and finding an outlet through the Gouliot Pass, they +came leaping and roaring through, the narrow black channel in a very fury +of madness, and hurled themselves against their fellows who had taken the +north side of the Island, and there below me they fought like giants, and I +was never tired of watching. + +But in the evenings, when the lamp was lit, and the fire of dried gorse and +driftwood burnt with coloured flames and lightning forks, my grandfather +would get out his books with a sigh of great content, and Krok would settle +silently to his work on net or lobster pot, and my mother took to teaching +me my letters, which was not at all to my liking. + +At first I was but a dull scholar, and the letters had to be dinned into my +careless little head many times before they stuck there, and anything was +sufficient to draw me from my task,--a louder blast outside than usual, or +the sight of Krok's nimble fingers, or of my grandfather's deep absorption, +which at that time I could not at all understand, and which seemed to me +extraordinary, and made me think of old Mother Mauger, who was said to be a +witch, and who lost herself staring into her fire just as my grandfather +did into his books. + +My wits were always busy with anything and everything rather than their +proper business, but my mother was patience itself and drilled things into +me till perforce I had to learn them, and, either through this constant +repetition, or from a friendly feeling for myself in trouble, Krok began to +take an intelligent interest in my lessons. + +He would bring his work alongside, and listen intently, and watch the book, +and at times would drop his work and by main force would turn my head away +from himself to that which was of more consequence, when my mother would +nod and smile her thanks. + +And so, as I slowly learned, Krok learned also, and very much more +quickly, for he had more time than I had to think over things, because he +wasted none of it in talking, and he was more used to thinking than I was. +And then, to me it was still only drudgery, while to him it was the opening +of a new window to his soul. + +Why, in all these years, he had never learned to read and write--why my +grandfather had never thought to teach him--I cannot tell. Perhaps because +my mother had learned at the school; perhaps because Krok himself had shown +no inclination to learn; perhaps because, in the earlier days, the scanty +little farm and the fishing which eked it out took up all the men's time +and attention. + +However that might be, now that he had begun to learn Krok learned quickly, +and the signs of his knowledge were all over the place. + +He knew all that wonderful west coast of our Island as well as he knew the +fingers of his hand, and before long the ground all round the house was +strewn about with smooth flat stones on which were scratched the letters of +the alphabet, which presently, according to the pace of my studies indoors, +began to arrange themselves into words, and so I was encompassed with +learning, inside and out, as it were, and sucked it in whether I would or +no. + +Well do I remember the puzzlement in old Krok's face when the mischief that +dwells in every boy set me to changing the proper order of his stones, and +the eagerness with which he awaited the evening lesson to compare the new +wrong order of things with his recollections of the original correct one, +and then the mild look of reproachful enquiry he would turn upon me. + +But my mother, catching me at it one day, sharply forbade me meddling with +Krok's studies, and showed me the smallness of it, and I never touched one +of his stones again. + +Both my mother and my grandfather could read and speak English, in addition +to the Norman-French which was the root of our Island tongue, and that was +something of a distinction in those days. He had learned it, perforce, +during his early voyagings. He had been twice round the world, both times +on English ships, and he was the kind of man, steady, quiet, thoughtful, to +miss no opportunities of self-improvement, though I do not think there ever +can have been a man less desirous of gain. His wants were very few, and so +long as the farm and the fishing provided us all with a sufficient living, +he was satisfied and grateful. He saw his neighbours waxing fat all about +him, in pursuits which he would have starved sooner than set his hand to. +To them, and according to Island standards, these things might be right or +wrong, but to him, and for himself, he had no doubts whatever in the +matter. + +You see, long ago, in Guernsey, he had come across Master Claude Gray, the +Quaker preacher, and had been greatly drawn to him and the simple high-life +he proclaimed. Frequently, on still Sabbath mornings, he would put off in +his boat, and, if the wind did not serve, would pull all the way to Peter +Port, a good fourteen miles there and back, for the purpose of meeting his +friend, and looked on it as a high privilege. + +When, at times, he took me with him, I, too, looked on it as a mighty +privilege; for Peter Port, even on a Sabbath morning, was, to a boy whose +life was spent within the shadow of the Autelets, so to speak, a great and +bustling city, full of people and houses and mysteries, and of course of +wickedness, all of which excited my liveliest imaginings. + +In the evening we would pull back, or run before the west wind if it +served, and my grandfather would thoughtfully con over the gains of the day +as another might tell the profits of his trading. Master Claude Gray was a +man of parts, well read, an Englishman, and it was doubtless from him that +my grandfather drew some of that love of books which distinguished him +above any man I ever knew on Sercq, not excepting even the Seigneur, or the +Senechal, or the Schoolmaster, or the Parson. + +His library consisted of five books which he valued beyond anything he +possessed, chiefly on account of what was in them and what he got out of +them; to some extent also, in the case of three of them, for what they +represented to him. + +The first was a very large Bible bound in massive leather-covered boards, a +present from Master Claude Gray to his friend, and brother in Christ, +Philip Carre, and so stated in a very fine round-hand on the front page. It +contained a number of large pictures drawn on wood which, under strict +injunctions as to carefulness and clean hands and no wet fingers, I was +occasionally allowed to look at on a winter's Sabbath evening, and which +always sent me to bed in a melancholy frame of mind, yet drew me to their +inspection with a most curious fascination when the next chance offered. + +Another was Mr. John Bunyan's _Pilgrim's Progress_, also with woodcuts of a +somewhat terrifying aspect, yet not devoid of lively fillips to the +imagination. + +Then there was a truly awful volume, _Foxe's Book of Martyrs_, with +pictures which wrought so upon me that I used to wake up in the night +shrieking with terror, and my mother forbade any further study of it; +though Krok, when he came to be able to read, would hang over it by the +hour, spelling out all the dreadful stories with his big forefinger and +noting every smallest detail of the pictured tortures. + +These two my grandfather had bought in Peter Port at a sale, together with +a copy of Jean de la Fontaine's _Fables Choisies_ in French, with +delightful pictures of all the talking beasts. + +And--crowning glory from the purely literary point of view--a massive +volume of Plays by William Shakespeare, and to this was attached a history +and an inscription of which my grandfather, in his quiet way, was not a +little proud. + +When the _Valentine_, East Indiaman, went ashore on Brecqhou in the great +autumn gale, the year before I was born,--that was before the Le Marchants +set themselves down there,--my grandfather was among the first to put out +to the rescue of the crew and passengers. He got across to Brecqhou at risk +of his life, and, from his knowledge of that ragged coast and its currents, +managed to float a line down to the sinking ship by means of which every +man got safe ashore. There was among them a rich merchant of London, a Mr. +Peter Mulholland, and he would have done much for the man who had saved all +their lives. + +"I have done naught more than my duty," said my grandfather, and would +accept nothing. + +But Mr. Mulholland stopped with him for some days, while such of the cargo +as had floated was being gathered from the shores--and, truth to tell, from +the houses--of Sercq, that is to say some portion of it, for some went +down with the ship, and in some of the houses there are silken hangings to +this day. And the rich Englishman came to know what manner of man my +grandfather was and his tastes, and some time after he had gone there came +one day a great parcel by the Guernsey cutter, addressed to my grandfather, +and in it was that splendid book of Shakespeare's Plays which, after his +Bible, became his greatest delight. An inscription, too, which he read +religiously every time he opened the book, though he must have known every +curl of every letter by heart. + +It was a wonderful book, even to look at. When I grew learned enough to +read it aloud to him and my mother and Krok of a winter's night, I came by +degrees, though not by any means at first, to understand what a very +wonderful book it was. + +When one's reading is limited to four books it is well that they should be +good books. Every one of those books I read through aloud from beginning to +end, not once, but many times, except indeed the long lists of names in the +Bible, which my grandfather said were of no profit to us, and some other +portions which he said were beyond me, and which I therefore made a point +of reading to myself, but got little benefit from. + +But to these books, and to the habit of reading them aloud, which impressed +them greatly on my memory, and to my own observation of men and things and +places through the eyes which these books helped to open, and to the wise +words of my grandfather, and the quiet faithful teaching of my mother, and +to all that old Krok taught me without ever speaking one word--I know that +I owe everything, and that is why it was necessary to tell you so much +about them. + +If the telling has wearied you, I am sorry. For myself, I like to think +back upon it all, and to trace the beginnings of some things of which I +have seen the endings, and of some which are not ended yet, thank God!--and +to find, in all that lies between, the signs of a Power that is beyond any +power of man's, and is, indeed, and rightly I think, beyond even the power +of any man's full understanding. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +HOW CARETTE CAME BY HER GOLDEN BRIDGE + + +And Carette-- + +I recall her in those days in a thousand different circumstances, and +always like the sunlight or the lightning, gleaming, sparkling, flashing. +For she could be as steadily radiant as the one and as unexpectedly fickle +as the other, and I do not know that I liked her any the less on that +account, though truly it made her none too easy to deal with at times. Her +quick changes and childish vagaries kept one, at all events, very much +alive and in a state of constant expectation. And whenever I think of her I +thank God for Jeanne Falla, and all that that wisest and sharpest and +tenderest of women was able to do for her. + +For, you see, Carette was peculiarly circumstanced, and might have gone to +waste but for her aunt Jeanne. + +Her mother died when she was six years old, after four years' life on +Brecqhou, and Carette was left to be utterly spoiled by her father and six +big brothers, wild and reckless men all of them, but all, I am sure, with +tender spots in their hearts for the lovely child who seemed so out of +place among them, though for anyone outside they had little thought or +care. + +My own thoughts delight to linger back among these earlier scenes before +the more trying times came. If you will let me, I will try to picture +Carette to you as I see her in my mind's eye, and I can see her as she was +then as clearly as though it were yesterday. + +I see a girl of ten, of slight, graceful figure, and of so active a nature +that if you found her quite still you feared at once that something was +wrong with her. + +Her face was very charming, browned richly with the kiss of sun and wind, +and without a freckle, yet not so brown as to hide the rich colour of her +feelings, which swept across her face as quickly as the cloud-shadows +across the sparkling face of the sea. + +Her eyes were large and dark--all alight with the joy of life; sparkling +with fun and mischief; blazing forked lightnings at some offence, fancied +as often as not; big with entreaty that none could refuse; more rarely--in +those days--deep with sober thought; but always--shining, sparkling, +blazing, entreating--the most wonderful and fascinating eyes in the world +to the boy at her side, on whom they shone and sparkled and blazed and +entreated, and moulded always to her imperious little will. + +A sturdy boy of twelve, short if anything for his age at that time, though +later he grew to full Sercq height and something over; but strong and +healthy, with a pair of keen blue eyes, and nothing whatever distinctive +about his brown face, unless it was a touch of the inflexible honesty which +had been diligently instilled into him from the time he was three years +old. Perhaps also some little indication of the stubborn determination +which must surely have come from his grandfather, and which some people +called obstinacy. + +Anyway the girl trusted him implicitly, ruled him imperiously, quarrelled +with him at times but never beyond reason, and always quickly made it up +again, and in so delightful a fashion that one remembered the quarrel no +more but only the making-up,--beamed upon him then more graciously than +before, and looked to him for certain help in every time of need. + +Inseparables these two, except when the Gouliot waters were in an evil +humour and rendered the passage impossible, for her home was on Brecqhou +and his was on Sercq. Fortunately for their friendship, Aunt Jeanne Falla +lived on Sercq also, and Carette was as often to be found at Beaumanoir as +at her father's house on Brecqhou, and it was to her father's liking that +it should be so. For he and the boys were often all away for days at a +time, and on such occasions, as they started, they would drop Carette on +the rough shore of Havre Gosselin, or set her hands and feet in the iron +rings that scaled the bald face of the rock, and up she would go like a +goat, and away to the welcome of the house that was her second and better +home. What Carette would have been without Aunt Jeanne I cannot imagine; +and so--all thanks to the sweet, sharp soul who took her mother's place. + +See these two, then, as they lay in the sweet short herbage of Tintageu or +Moie de Mouton, chins on fist, crisp light hair close up alongside floating +brown curls, caps or hats scorned impediments to rapid motion, bare heels +kicking up emotionally behind, as they surveyed their little world, and +watched the distant ships, and dreamed dreams and saw visions. + +Very clear in my memory is one such day, by reason of the fact that it was +the beginning of a new and highly satisfactory state of matters between the +boy and the girl. + +Carette, you understand, was practically prisoner on Brecqhou except at +such times as the higher powers, for good reasons of their own, put her +ashore on Sercq. And, often as this happened, there were still many times +when she would have been there but could not. + +She had startled her companion more than once by wild threats of swimming +the Gouliot, which is a foolhardy feat even for a man, for the dark passage +is rarely free from coiling undercurrents, which play with a man as though +he were no more than a piece of seaweed, and try even a strong swimmer's +nerve and strength. And when she spoke so, the boy took her sharply to +task, and drew most horrible pictures of her dead white body tumbling about +among the Autelets, or being left stranded in the rock pools by Port du +Moulin, nibbled by crabs and lobsters and pecked by hungry gulls; or, +maybe, lugged into a sea-cave by a giant devil-fish and ripped into pieces +by his pitiless hooked beak. + +At all of which the silvery little voice would say "Pooh!" But all the same +the slim little figure would shiver in the hot sunshine inside its short +blue linsey-woolsey frock, and the dark eyes would grow larger than ever at +the prospect, especially at the ripping by the giant pieuvre, in which they +both believed devoutly, and eventually she would promise not to throw her +young life away. + +"But all the same, Phil, I do feel like trying it when I want over and they +won't let me." + +And--"Don't be a silly," the boy would say. "If you go and get yourself +drowned, in any stupid way like that, Carette, I'll never speak to you +again as long as I live." + +They were lying so one day on the altar rock behind Tintageu, the boy +gazing dreamily into the vast void past the distant Casquets, where, +somewhere beyond and beyond, lay England, the land of many +wonders,--England, where the mighty folks had lived of whom he had read in +his grandfather's great book of plays,--and strange, wild notions he had +got of the land and the people; England, where they used to burn men and +women at the stake, and pinch them with hot irons, and sting them to death +with bees, and break them in pieces on wheels--a process he did not quite +understand, though it seemed satisfactorily horrible; England, which was +always at war with France, and was constantly winning great fights upon the +sea; England, of whom they were proud to be a part, though--somewhat +confusingly to twelve years old--their own ordinary speech was French; a +wonderful place that England, bigger even than Guernsey, his grandfather +said, and so it must be true. And sometime, maybe, he would sail across the +sea and see it all for himself, and the great city of London, which was +bigger even than Peter Port, though that, indeed, seemed almost past belief +and the boy had his doubts. + +He told Carette of England and London at times, and drew so wildly on his +imagination--yet came so very far from the reality--that Carette flatly +denied the possibilities of such things, and looked upon him as a romancer +of parts, though she put it more briefly. + +She herself lay facing west, gazing longingly at Herm and Jethou, with the +long line of Guernsey behind. Guernsey bounded her aspirations. Sometime +she was to go with Aunt Jeanne to Guernsey, and then she would be level +with Phil, and be able to take him down when he boasted too wildly of its +wonderful streets and houses and shops. + +Suddenly she stiffened, as a cat does at distant sight of a mouse, gazed +hard, sat up, jumped to her feet and began to dance excitedly as was her +way. + +"Phil! Phil!" and the boy's eyes were on the object at which her dancing +finger pointed vaguely. + +"A boat!" said he, jumping with excitement also, for the boat Carette had +sighted was evidently astray, and, moreover, it was, as they could easily +see even at that distance, no Island boat, but a stranger, a waif, and so +lawful prey and treasure-trove if they could secure it. + +"Oh, Phil! Get it! I want it! It's just what I've been wanting all my +life!" + +It was a mere yellow cockleshell of a thing, almost round, and progressing, +with wind and tide, equally well bow or stern foremost, its holding +capacity a man and a half maybe, or say two children. + +It came joggling slowly along, like a floating patch of sunlight, among the +sun-glints, and every joggle brought it nearer to the grip of the current +that was swirling south through the Gouliot. Once caught in the foaming +Race, ten chances to one it would be smashed like an eggshell on some black +outreaching fang of the rocks. + +The boy took in all the chances at a glance, and sped off across the narrow +neck to the mainland, tore along the cliff round Pegane and Port a la +Jument, then away past the head of Saut de Juan, and down the cliff-side +to where the black shelves overhang the backwater of the Gouliot. + +He shed his guernsey during the safe passage between Jument and Saut de +Juan. The rest of his clothing, one garment all told, he thoughtfully +dropped at the top of the cliff before he took to the shelves. The girl +gathered his things as she ran, and danced excitedly with them in her arms +as she saw his white body launch out from the lowest shelf far away below +her, and go wrestling through the water like a tiny white frog. + +They had travelled quicker than the careless boat, and he was well out +among the first writhings of the Race before it came bobbing merrily +towards him. She saw his white arm flash up over the yellow side, and he +hung there panting. Then slowly he worked round to the fat stern, and +hauled himself cautiously on board, and stood and waved a cheerful hand to +her. + +Then she saw him pick up a small piece of board from the flooring of the +boat and try to paddle back into the slack water. And she saw, too, that it +was too late. The Race had got hold of the cockleshell, and a piece of +board would never make it let go. Oars might, but there were no oars. + +She danced wildly, saw him give up that attempt and paddle boldly out, +instead, into the middle of the coiling waters, saw him turn the +cockleshell's blunt nose straight for the Pass, and stand watchfully +amidships with his board poised to keep her to a true course if that might +be. + +The passage of the Race is no easy matter even with oars and strong men's +hands upon them. A cockleshell and a board were but feeble things, and the +girl knew it, and, dancing wildly all the time because she could not stand +still, looked each second to see the tiny craft flung aside and cracked on +the jagged rocks. + +But, with a great raking pull here, and a mighty sweep there, kneeling now, +and now standing with one foot braced against the side for leverage, the +boy managed in some marvellous way to keep his cockleshell in midstream. +The girl watched them go rocking down the dark way, and then sped off +across the headland towards Havre Gosselin. She got there just in time to +see a boat with two strong rowers plunging out into the Race past Pierre au +Norman, and knew that the boy was safe, and then she slipped and tumbled +down the zigzag to meet them when they came in. The boy would want his +clothes, and she wanted to see her boat. For of course it would be hers, +and now she would be able to come across from Brecqhou whenever she wished. + +The matter was not settled quite so easily as that, however. + +She was dancing eagerly among the big round stones on the shore of Havre +Gosselin, when the boat came in, with the cockleshell in tow and the small +boy sitting in it, with his chin on his knees and shaking still with +excitement and chills. + +"All the same, mon gars, it was foolishness, for you might have been +drowned," said the older man of the two, as they drew in to the shore, and +the other man nodded agreement. + +"I--w-w-wanted it for C-C-Carette," chittered the boy. + +"Yes, yes, we know. But--And then there is M. le Seigneur, you understand." + +"But, Monsieur Carre," cried the small girl remonstratively, "it would +never have come in if Phil had not gone for it. It would have got smashed +in the Gouliot or gone right past and been lost. And, besides, I do so want +it." + +"All the same, little one, the Seigneur's rights must be respected. You'd +better go and tell him about it and ask him--" + +"I will, mon Gyu!" and she was off up the zigzag before he had finished. + +And it would have been a very different man from Peter le Pelley who could +refuse the beguilement of Carette's wistful dark eyes, when her heart was +set on her own way, as it generally was. + +The Seigneur, indeed, had no special liking for the Le Marchants, who had +sat themselves down in his island of Brecqhou without so much as a +by-your-leave or thank you. Still, the island was of little use to him, and +to oust them would have been to incur the ill-will of men notorious for the +payment of scores in kind, so he suffered them without opposition. + +Carette told us afterwards that the Seigneur stroked her hair, when she had +told all her story and proffered her request, assuring him at the same time +that the little boat would be of no use to him whatever, as it could not +possibly hold him. + +"And what do you want with it, little one?" he asked. + +"To come over from Brecqhou whenever I want, M. le Seigneur, if you +please." + +"My faith, I think you will be better on Sercq than on Brecqhou. But you +will be getting yourself drowned in the Gouliot, and that would be a sad +pity," said the Seigneur. + +"But I can swim, M. le Seigneur, and I will be very, very careful." + +"Well, well! You can have the boat, child. But if any ill comes of it, +remember, I shall feel myself to blame. So be careful for my sake also." + +And so the yellow cockleshell became Carette's golden bridge, and +thereafter her comings and goings knew no bounds but her own wilful will +and the states of the tides and the weather. + +Krok's ideas in the matter of seigneurial rights of flotsam and jetsam were +by no means as strict as his master's, especially where Carette was +concerned. In his mute, dog-like way he worshipped Carette. In case of +need, he would, I believe, have given his left hand in her service; and the +right, I think he would have kept for himself and me. He procured from +somewhere a great beam of ship's timber, and with infinite labour fixed it +securely in a crevice of the rocks, high up by the Gale de Jacob, with one +end projecting over the shelving rocks below. Then, with rope and pulley +from the same ample storehouse, he showed Carette how she could, with her +own unaided strength, hitch on her cockleshell and haul it up the cliff +side out of reach of the hungriest wave. He made her a pair of tiny sculls +too, and thenceforth she was free of the seas, and she flitted to and fro, +and up and down that rugged western coast, till it was all an open book to +her. But so venturesome was she, and so utterly heedless of danger, that we +all went in fear for her, and she laughed all our fears to scorn. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +HOW I SHOWED ONE THE WAY TO THE BOUTIQUES + + +Another scene stands out very sharply in my recollection of the boy and +girl of those early days, from the fact that it gave our Island folk a +saying which lasted a generation, and whenever I heard the saying it +brought the whole matter back to me. + +"Show him the way to the Boutiques," became, in those days, equivalent to +"mislead him--trick him--deceive him"--and this was how it came about. + +I can see the boy creeping slowly along the south side of Brecqhou in a +boat which was big enough to make him look very small. It was the smaller +of the two boats belonging to the farm, but it was heavily laden with +vraic. There had been two days of storm, the port at Brecqhou was full of +the floating seaweed, and the fields at Belfontaine hungered for it. Philip +Carre and Krok and the small boy had been busy with it since the early +morning, and many boat-loads had been carried to Port a la Jument as long +as the flood served for the passage of the Gouliot, and since then, into +Havre Gosselin for further transport when the tide turned. + +The weather was close and heavy still, sulky-looking, as though it +contemplated another outbreak before settling to its usual humour. There +was no sun, and now and again drifts of ghostly haze trailed over the long +sullen waves. + +But the small boy knew every rock on the shore of Brecqhou, and the more +deadly ones that lay in the tideway outside, just below the surface, and +whuffed and growled at him as he passed. His course shaped itself like that +of bird or fish, without apparent observation. + +The boat was heavy, but his bare brown arms worked the single oar over the +stern like tireless little machines, and his body swung rhythmically from +side to side to add its weight to his impulse. + +He kept well out round Pente-a-Fouille with its jagged teeth and circles of +sweltering foam. The tide was rushing south through the Gouliot Pass like a +mill-race. It drove a bold furrow into the comparatively calm waters +beyond, a furrow which leaped and writhed and spat like a tortured snake +with the agonies of the narrow passage. And presently it sank into twisting +coils, all spattered and marbled with foam, and came weltering up from +conflict with the rocks below, and then hurried on to further torment along +the teeth of Little Sark. + +At the first lick of the Race on his boat's nose, the small boy drew in his +oar without ever looking round, dropped it into the rowlock, fitted the +other oar, and bent his sturdy back to the fight. + +The twisting waters carried him away in a long swirling slant. He pulled +steadily on and paid no heed, and in due course was spat out on the other +side of the Race into the smooth water under lee of Longue Pointe. Then he +turned his boat's nose to the north, and pulled through the slack in the +direction of Havre Gosselin. + +He was edging slowly round Pierre au Norman, where a whip of the current +caught him for a moment, when a merry shout carried his chin to his +shoulder in time to see, out of the corner of his eye, a small white body +flash from a black ledge above the surf into the coiling waters beyond. He +stood up facing the bows and held the boat, till a brown head bobbed up +among the writhing coils. Then a slim white arm with a little brown hand +swept the long hair away from a pair of dancing eyes, and the swimmer came +slipping through the water like a seal. + +But suddenly, some stronger coil of the waters below caught the glancing +white limbs. They sprawled awry from their stroke, a startled look dimmed +the dancing eyes with a strain of fear. + +"Phil!" + +And in a moment the boy in the boat had drawn in his oars, and kicked off +his shoes, and was ploughing sturdily through the belching coils. + +"You're all right, Carette," he cried, as he drove up alongside, and the +swimmer grasped hurriedly at his extended arm. "We've done stiffer bits +than this. Now--rest a minute!--All right?--Come on then for the boat. Here +you are!--Hang on till I get in!" + +He drew himself up slowly, and hung for a moment while the water poured out +of his clothes. Then, with a heave and a wild kick in the air, he was +aboard, and turned to assist his companion. He grasped the little brown +hands and braced his foot against the gunwale. "Now!" and she came up over +the side like a lovely white elf, and sank panting among the golden-brown +coils of vraic. + +"It was silly of you to jump in there, you know," said the boy over his +shoulder, as he sat down to his oars and headed for Pierre au Norman again. +"The Race is too strong for you. I've told you so before." + +"You do it yourself," she panted. + +"I'm a boy and I'm stronger than you." + +"I can swim as fast as you." + +"But I can last longer, and the Race is too strong for me sometimes." + +"B'en! I knew you'd pick me up." + +"Well, don't you ever do it when I'm not here, or some day the black snake +will get you and you'll never come up again." + +He was pulling steadily now through the backwater of Havre Gosselin;--past +the iron clamps let into the face of the rock, up and down which the +fishermen climbed like flies;--past the moored boats;--avoiding hidden +rocks by the instinct of constant usage, till his boat slid up among the +weed-cushioned boulders of the shore, and he drew in his oars and laid them +methodically along the thwarts. + +The small girl jumped out and wallowed in the warm lip of the tide, and +finally squatted in it with her brown hands clasped round her pink-white +knees,--unabashed, unashamed, absolutely innocent of any possible necessity +for either,--as lovely a picture as all those coasts could show. + +Her long hair, dark with the water, hung in wet rats' tails on her slim +white shoulders, which were just flushed with the nip of the sea. The clear +drops sparkled on her pretty brown face like pearls and diamonds, and +seemed loth to fall. Her little pink toes curled up out of the creamy wash +to look at her. + +"Where are your things?" asked the boy. + +"In the cave yonder." + +"Go and get dressed," he said, looking down at her with as little thought +of unseemliness as she herself. + +"Not at all. I'm quite warm." + +"Well, I'm going to dry my things," and he began to wriggle out of his +knitted blue guernsey. "Also," he said, following up a previous train of +thought, "let me tell you there are devil-fish about here. One came up with +one of our pots yesterday." + +"Pooh! I killed one with a stick this morning. They're only baby ones; +comme ca," and she measured about two inches between her little pink palms. + +"This one was so big," and he indicated a yard or so, between the flapping +sleeves of the guernsey in which his head was still involved. + +"I don't believe you, Phil Carre," she said with wide eyes. "You're just +trying to frighten me." + +"All right! Just you wait till one catches hold of your leg when you're out +swimming all by yourself. If I'd known you'd be so silly I'd never have +taught you." + +"You didn't teach me. You only dared me in and showed me how." + +"Well then! And if I hadn't you'd never have learnt." + +"Maybe I would. Someone else would have taught me." + +"Who then?" + +And to that she had no answer. For if the good God intends a man to drown +it is going against His will to try to thwart him by learning to +swim,--such, at all events, was the very prevalent belief in those parts, +and is to this day. + +As soon as the boy was free of his clothes, he spread them neatly to the +sun on a big boulder, and with a whoop went skipping over the stones into +the water, till he fell full length with a splash and began swimming +vigorously seawards. The small girl sat watching him for a minute and then +skipped in after him, and the cormorants ceased their diving and the +seagulls their wheelings and mewings, and all gathered agitatedly on a rock +at the farther side of the bay, and wondered what such shouts and laughter +might portend. + +But suddenly the boy broke off short in his sporting, and paddled +noiselessly, with his face straining seawards. + +"What is it then, Phil? Has the big pieuvre got hold of your leg?" cried +the girl, as she splashed up towards him. + +He raised a dripping hand to silence her, and while the dark eyes were +still widening with surprise, a dull boom came rolling along the wind over +the cliffs of Brecqhou. + +"A gun," said the boy, and turned and headed swiftly for the shore. + +"Wait for me, Phil!" cried the girl, as she skipped over the stones like a +sunbeam and disappeared into the black mouth of the cave. + +"Quick then!" as he wrestled with his half-dried clothes, still sticky with +the sea-water. + +He was fixing the iron bar, which served as anchor for his boat, under a +big boulder, when she joined him, still buttoning her skirt, and they sped +together up the hazardous path which led up to La Fregondee. He gave her a +helping hand now and again over difficult bits, but they had no breath for +words. They reached the top panting like hounds, but the boy turned at once +through the fields to the left and never stopped till he dropped spent on +the short turf of the headland by Saut de Juan. + +"Ah!" he gasped, and sighed with vast enjoyment, and the girl stared +wide-eyed. + +Down Great Russel, between them and Herm, two great ships were driving +furiously, with every sail at fullest stretch and the white waves boiling +under their bows. Farther out, beyond the bristle of reefs and islets which +stretch in a menacing line to the north of Herm, another stately vessel was +manoeuvring in advance of-- + +"One--two--three--four--five--six," counted the boy, "and each one as big +as herself." + +Every now and again came the sullen boom of her guns and answering booms +from her pursuers. + +"Six to one!" breathed the boy, quivering like a pointer. "And she's +terrible near the rocks. Bon Gyu! but she'll be on them! She'll be on them +sure," and he jumped up and danced in his excitement. "You can't get her +through there!--Ay-ee!" and he funnelled his hands to shout a warning +across three miles of sea in the teeth of a westerly breeze. + +"Silly!" said the girl from the turf where she sat with her hands round her +knees. "They can't hear you!" + +"Oh, guyabble! Oh, bon Gyu!" and he stood stiff and stark, as the great +ship narrowed as she turned towards them suddenly, and came threading her +way through the bristling rocks, in a way that passed belief and set the +hair in the nape of the boy's neck crawling with apprehension. + +"Platte Boue!" he gasped, as she came safely past that danger. "Grand +Amfroque!" and he began to dance. + +"Founiais!" and she came out into Great Russel with a glorious sweep, shook +herself proudly to the other tack, and went foaming past the Equetelees and +the Grands Bouillons, swept round the south of Jethou, and began short +tacking for Peter Port in wake of her consorts. + +Since the guns, the drama out there had unfolded itself in silence, and +silence was unnatural when such goings-on were toward. The small boy danced +and waved his arms and cheered frantically. The ships beyond the reefs were +streaming away discomfited to the north-east, in the direction of La Hague. + +The small girl nursed her knees, and watched, with only partial +understanding of it all in her looks. + +"Why are you so crazy about it?" she asked. + +"Because we've won, you silly!" + +"Of course! We're English. But all the same we ran away." + +"We're English"--and there was a touch of the true insular pride in her +voice, but they spoke in French, and not very good French at that, and +scarce a word of English had one of them at that time. + +"Pooh! Three little corvettes from two men-o'-war and four big frigates! +And let me tell you there's not many men could have brought that ship +through those rocks like that. I wonder who it is? A Guernsey man for +sure!" [A very similar story is told of Sir James Saumarez in the +_Crescent_ off Vazin Bay in Guernsey. His pilot was Jean Breton, who +received a large gold medal for the feat.] + +His war-dance came to a sudden stop with the fall of a heavy hand on his +shoulder, and he jerked round in surprise. It was a stout, heavily-built +man in blue cloth jacket and trousers, and a cap such as no Island man ever +wore in his life, and a sharp ratty face such as no Island man would have +cared to wear. + +"Now, little corbin, what is it you are dancing at?" he asked, in a tongue +that was neither English nor French nor Norman, but an uncouth mixture of +all three, and in a tone which was meant to imply joviality but carried no +conviction to the boy's mind. + +But the boy had weighed him up in a moment and with one glance, and he was +too busy thinking to speak. + +"Come then! Art dumb?" and he shook the boy roughly. + +"Mon dou donc, yes, that is it!" said Carette, dancing round them with +apprehension for her companion. "He's dumb." + +"He was shouting loud enough a minute ago," and he pinched the boy's ear +smartly between his big thumb and finger. + +"It's only sometimes," said Carette lamely. "You let him go and maybe he'll +speak." + +"See, my lad," said the burly one, letting go the boy's ear but keeping a +grip on his shoulder. "I'm not going to harm you. All I want to know is +whether you've seen any sizable ships banging about here lately.--You know +what I mean!" + +The small boy knew perfectly what he meant, and his lip curled at thought +of being mistaken for the kind of boy who would open his mouth to a +preventive man. He shook his head, however. + +"Not, eh? Well, you know the neighbourhood anyway. Take me to the +Boutiques." + +"The Boutiques?" cried Carette. + +"Ah! The Boutiques. You know where the Boutiques are, I can see." + +They both knew the Boutiques. It would be a very small child on Sercq who +did not know that much. The small boy knew, too, that both the Boutiques +and the Gouliot caves had nooks and niches in their higher ranges, boarded +off and secured with stout padlocked doors, where goods were stored for +transfer to the cutters and chasse-marees as occasion offered, just as they +were in the great warehouses of the Guernsey merchants. He had vague ideas +that so long as the goods were on dry land the preventive men could not +touch them, but of that he was not perfectly certain. These troublesome +Customs' officers were constantly having new powers conferred on them. He +had overheard the men discussing them many a time, and the very fact of +this man trying to find the Boutiques was in itself suspicious. But the man +was a stranger. That was evident from his uncouth talk and foolish ways, +and the small boy's mind was made up in a moment. + +Carette was watching anxiously, with a wild idea in her mind that if she +flung herself at the preventive man's feet and held them tightly, the boy +might wriggle away and escape. + +But the boy had a brighter scheme than that. He turned and led the way +inland, and dropped a wink to Carette as he did so, and her anxious little +brain jumped to the fact that the stranger was to be misled. + +Her sharpened faculties perceived that the best way to second his efforts +was to pretend a vehement objection to his action and so lend colour to it. + +"Don't you do it, Phil!" she cried, dancing round them. "Don't you do it, +or I'll never speak to you again as long as I live." + +Phil marched steadily on with the heavy hand gripping his shoulder. + +"Sensible boy!" said the preventive man. + +As everyone knows, the Boutiques lie hid among the northern cliffs by the +Eperquerie. But, once lose sight of the sea, amid the tangle of wooded +lanes which traverse the Island, and, without the guidance of the sun, it +needs a certain amount of familiarity with the district to know exactly +where one will come out. + +The small boy stolidly led the way past Beaumanoir, and Carette wailed like +a lost soul alongside. Jeanne Falla looked out as they passed and called +out to know what was happening. + +"This wicked man is making Phil show him the way to the Boutiques," cried +Carette, and the wicked man chuckled, and so did Jeanne Falla. + +They passed the cottages at La Vauroque. The women and children crowded the +doors. + +"What is it then, Carette?" they cried. "Where is he taking him?" + +"He is making him show him the way to the Boutiques," cried Carette, +crumpling her pretty face into hideous grimaces by way of explanation. + +"Oh, my good!" cried the women, and the procession passed on along the road +that led past Dos d'Ane. The steamy haze lay thicker here. The wind drove +it past in slow coils, but its skirts seemed to cling to the heather and +bracken as though reluctant to loose its hold on the Island. + +They passed down a rough rock path with ragged yellow sides, and stood +suddenly looking out, as it seemed, on death. + +In front and all around--a fathomless void of mist, which curled slowly +past in thin white whorls. The only solid thing--the raw yellow path on +which they stood. It stretched precariously out into the void and seemed to +rest on nothing. From somewhere down below came the hoarse low growl of sea +on rock. Otherwise the stillness of death.--The Coupee! + +Sorely trying to stranger nerves at best of times was that wonderful +narrow bone of a neck which joins Little Sercq to Sercq,--six hundred feet +long, three hundred feet high, four feet wide at its widest at that time, +and in places less, and with nothing between the crumbling edges of the +path and the growling death below but ragged falls of rock, almost sheer on +the one side and little better on the other. On a clear day the +unaccustomed eye swam with the welter of the surf below on both sides at +once; the unaccustomed brain reeled at thought of so precarious a passage; +and the unaccustomed body, unless tenanted by a fool, or possessed of +nerves beyond the ordinary or of no nerves at all, turned as a rule at the +sight and thanked God for the feel of solid rock behind, or else went +humbly down on hands and knees and so crossed in safety with lowered crest. + +To the eyes of the rat-faced man the path seemed but a wavering line in the +wavering mist. His hand gripped the boy's shoulder, grateful for something +solid to hang on to. And gripped it the harder when Carette skipped past +them and disappeared along that knife-edge of a dancing path. + +"Come on!" said the boy,--the first words he had spoken. + +But the preventive man's eyes were still fixed in horror on the place where +the girl had vanished. + +"Come on!" said the boy again, and shook himself free, and went on along +the path. + +"Aren't you coming?" he asked,--a shadow in the mist. + +But the preventive man was feeling cautiously backwards for solid rock. + +"Then I can't show you the Boutiques," said the boy, and passed out of +sight into the mist. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +HOW I WENT THE FIRST TIME TO BRECQHOU + + +Are the later days ever quite as full of the brightness and joy of life as +the earlier ones? Wider, and deeper, and fuller both of joys and sorrows +they are, but the higher lights hold also the darker shadows, and +experience teaches, as Jeanne Falla used to say--"N'y a pas de rue sans +but." Neither lights nor shadows last, and the only thing one may count +upon with absolute certainty is the certainty of change. + +But in the earlier days one's horizon is limited, and so long as it is +clear and bright one does not trouble about possible storms;--wherein, I +take it, the spirit of childhood is wiser than the spirit of the grown, +until the latter learn that wisdom which men like my grandfather call +faith, and so draw near again to the trustful simplicity of the earlier +days. + +Altogether bright and very clear are my recollections of those days when +Carette and I, and Krok whenever he could manage it, roamed about that +western coast of our little Island, till we knew every rock and stone, and +every nook and cranny of the beetling cliffs, and were on such friendly +terms with the very gulls and cormorants that we knew many of them by +sight, and were on visiting terms, so to speak, though perhaps never very +acceptable visitors, among their homes and families. + +Krok knew it all like a book, only better; for actual books were of late +acquaintance with him, and these other things he had studied, in his way, +for half his life. + +In the hardest working life there are always off times, and Krok's Sundays, +outside the simple necessities of farm life, had always been his own. His +one enjoyment had been to scramble and poke and peer--without knowledge, +indeed, or even understanding, save such as came of absorbed watchfulness, +but still with the most perfect satisfaction--among the hidden things of +nature which lay in pools, and under stones, and away in dark caves where +none but he had been. + +And all these things he introduced us to with very great enjoyment, +revealing to us at a stroke, as it were, the wonders which had taken him +years to find out for himself. + +With him we lay gazing into the wonderful rock gardens under the Autelets +when the tide was out;--watching the phosphorescent seaweeds flame in the +darker pools; seeking out the haunts where the sea anemones lay in +thousands, waving their long pale arms hungrily for food and closing them +hopefully on anything that offered, even on one's fingers, which they +presently rejected as unsatisfying. + +He would silently point out to us the beauties of the sea ferns and +flowers, and the curious ways and habits of the tiny creeping things and +fishes, and we three would lie by the hour, flat on the rocks, chin in +fist, watching the comedies and tragedies and the strange chancy life of +the pools. And they were absorbing enough to keep even Carette quiet, +although her veins seemed filled with quicksilver and her life went on +springs. + +And at times he would take us up the cliffs, to points of vantage from +which we could look down into the sea-birds' nests and watch them tending +their young. + +And--greatest wonder of all, and only when we had solemnly promised, finger +on lip, never to disclose the matter under any conditions to anyone +whatsoever--he led us right into the granite cliffs themselves, sometimes +through dark mouths that gaped on the shore, sometimes by narrow clefts +half-way up, sometimes down strange rough chimneys from the heights above. + +Hand in hand we would creep, stumbling and slipping, clinging tightly to +one another for protection against ghosts, spirits, and fairies, in all of +which we half believed in spite of all wiser teaching, and never daring to +speak above a whisper for fear of we knew not what, but always in mortal +terror of losing Krok, and so being left to wander till we died, or fell +into some, dark pool and were drowned, or, more horrible still, were caught +by the tide and driven back step by step into far dark corners till the end +came. + +I can hear, now as I write, the uncouth croak from which Krok got his name, +but which to us, in those awesome places, was sweeter than music. And I can +hear the beating of his stick on the rocks to guide us in the dark,--one +blow to tell us where he was; two, to look out for difficulties; three, +water. But at times he would bring with him a torch made of tar and grease +and rope, and then we would go in greater comfort and wax almost bold at +times, though never without scared glances over our shoulders at the black +mouths which gaped hungrily for us at every turn and corner. + +We were, I believe, the very first--of our time at all events--to penetrate +into some of the caves which have since become a wonder to many, and if we +did not understand how very wonderful they really were, they were to us +treasure-houses of delight and a never-failing enjoyment. + +Some of the higher caves were used as secret storehouses for goods which a +far-away Government--with which our people had little to do and which did +not greatly concern them--chose to embargo in various Ways. And it was in +the secret shipment of these to various ports in England and France that +the special--trade of the Islands largely consisted. So absolutely free of +all restrictions had our people always been, indeed so specially privileged +in this way above all other lands, that it took many years to bring them +under what they looked upon as the yoke. And some of them never could, or +would, understand why it should be considered unlawful for them to do what +their fathers had always done without let or hindrance. Whatever the +outside world might say, they saw no wrong, except on the part of those who +tried to stop them, and whom therefore they set themselves to circumvent by +every means in their power, and were mightily successful therein. Moreover, +the Island spirit resented somewhat this interference in their affairs by +what was, after all, a conquered people. For the privileges of the Islands +were granted them originally by the sovereigns of their own race who +captured England from the Saxon kings. We of the Islands never have been +conquered. At Hastings we were on the winning side, and we have been a +race to ourselves ever since, though loyal always to that great nation +which sprang like a giant out of the loins of the struggle. + +Foremost among the free-traders were Carette's father and brothers on +Brecqhou, whereby, as I have said, Carette spent much of her time on Sercq +with her aunt Jeanne Falla, which was all for her good, and much to her and +my enjoyment. + +When, by rights of flotsam and jetsam and gift and trover, she became the +proud possessor of her little yellow boat, the day rarely passed without +her flitting across to spend part of it at Beaumanoir or Belfontaine, +unless the weather bottled her up on Brecqhou. + +One time, however, is very clear in my memory, when two whole days passed, +and fine days too, without any sign of her, and Aunt Jeanne Falla knew +nothing more of her than I did. + +My grandfather was out fishing in our smaller boat, and Krok was bringing +home vraic in the larger, but it was not lack of a boat that could keep me +from news of Carette. I scrambled down the rocks by Saut de Juan, strapped +my guernsey and trousers on to my head with my belt, and swam across +through the slack of the tide without much difficulty. + +As I drew in to the Gale de Jacob I saw the yellow cockleshell hanging from +its beam, and, between fear and wonder as to what could have taken Carette, +I scrambled in among the boulders and clambered quickly up the back stairs +into Brecqhou. + +The Le Marchants discouraged visitors, and I had never been ashore there +except on the outer rocks after vraic. Carette never talked much about her +home affairs, and except that the house was built of wood I knew very +little about it. When I reached the top and stood on Beleme cliff, the +sight of Sercq as I had never seen it before filled me with a very great +delight. From Bec du Nez at one end to Moie de Bretagne at the other, every +cleft and chasm in the long line of cliffs was bared to my sight. Some +stood naked, shoulder high; and some were clothed with softest green to +their knees. Here were long green slides almost to the water's edge; and +here grim heaps of black rock flung together and awry in wildest confusion. + +Up above was the work of man, the greenery of fields and trees, soft and +beautiful in the sunshine, but these reached only to the cliff edge. +Wherever the land had fallen away, the wind and the sea had worked their +will, and the scarred and bitten rocks bore witness to it. The black +tumbled masses of the Gouliot were right before me, and in the gloomy +channel between, the tide, through which I had come, writhed and rolled +like a wounded snake, even at the slack. + +I had seen Sercq from the outside many times before, but only from water +level, which limits one's view, though the towering cliffs are always +wondrous fine, and more striking perhaps from below than from above. But +Brecqhou always cut the view on one side or the other, whereas now, for the +first time, I saw the whole western side of the Island at a glance, and, +boy as I was, it impressed me deeply and made me swell with pride. For, you +see, thanks to my grandfather and my mother and Krok, my eyes were opening, +even then, to the wonders and beauties among which I lived. + +I turned at last and tramped through the heather and ferns and the +breast-high golden-rod, stumbling among the rabbit holes with which the +ground was riddled, towards the house which stood in a hollow in the centre +of the Island. And I stared hard at it, for I had never seen the like +before. + +It was not like our Sercq houses, granite-built, thick-walled, low in the +sides and high in the roof. It stood facing Sercq--that is, with its back +to the south and west--and the far end of it seemed to start out of the +ground and come sloping up to the front, till, above the doorway, it was +perhaps ten feet high. As a matter of fact cunning advantage had been taken +of a dip in the ground, and the house, built against the inside of the +hollow and sloping very gradually upwards, left nothing for the wild winter +gales from the south-west to lay hold of. The wildest wind that ever blew +leaped off the edge of the hollow and went shrieking up the black sky, but +never struck down at the squat gray house below. It was a good-sized house, +wide-spread, and all on one floor, and though it was only built of wood it +looked very strong and lasting, and to my thinking very comfortable. Coming +towards it from the front, it looked as though a great ship had run head on +into the hollow and sunk partly into the ground, leaving her stern high and +dry. For the front was in fact built up of fragments of an East Indiaman, +and the windows were her bulging stern windows, carved and ornamented, +though now all weathered to an ashen gray, and on each side of the doorway +ran a stout carved wooden railing which had come from a ship's poop. + +When I had done staring at all this, I went rather doubtfully to the door, +with my eyes playing about all round, for the Le Marchants, as I have said, +did not favour visitors, and I was not sure of my welcome. + +There seemed no one about, however, and at last I summoned courage to +knock gently on the door, which was of thick, heavy wood of a kind quite +new to me, and had once been polished. + +"Hello, then! Who's there?" said a voice inside. + +I waited, but no one came. It was no good talking through a door, so I +lifted the latch doubtfully and put in my head. + +It was a large wide room, larger than Jeanne Falla's kitchen at Beaumanoir, +and though there was no fern-bed--and it was the first living-room I had +seen without one--there was a look of great warmth and comfort about it. +There was a fire of driftwood smouldering in a wide clay chimneyplace, and +a sweet warm smell of wood smoke in the air. There were a number of wooden +chairs, and a table, and several great black oaken chests curiously carved, +and a great rack hanging from the roof, on which I saw hams, and guns, and +tarpaulin hats, and oars, and coils of rope. The far end of the room was +dark to one coming in out of the sunshine, but, in some way, and I can +hardly tell how, it seemed to me that when the winter gales screamed over +Brecqhou that would be a very comfortable room to live in. + +I could still see no one, till the voice cried out at sight of me-- + +"Now, who in the name of Satan are you, and what do you want here?" And +then, in a ship's bunk at the far end of the room, I saw a face lifted up +and scowling at me. + +It was the face of a young man, and but for the black scowl on it, and a +white cloth tied round above the scowl, it might have been good-looking, +for all the Le Marchants were that. + +"I'm Phil Carre," I faltered. "I've come to look for Carette." + +And at that, Carette's voice came, like a silver pipe, from some hidden +place-- + +"Phil, mon p'tit, is that you? I'm here, but you mustn't come in. I'm in +bed. I've got measles. Father's gone across to see Aunt Jeanne about it." + +"I was afraid you'd got drowned, or hurt, or something," I said. "If it's +only measles--" + +"Just that--only measles, and it doesn't hurt the least bit." + +"How long will it be before you're better?" + +"Oh, days and days, they say." + +"Oh!... And have you got it too?" I asked of the man in the bunk. + +And he looked at me for a minute, and then laughed, and said, "Yes, I've +got it too. Don't you come near me," for I had come into the room at sound +of Carette's voice, and he looked very much nicer when he laughed. + +"Oh--Hilaire!" cried the unseen Carette. "What a great big--" + +"Ta-ta!" laughed her brother. "Little yellow heels should keep out of +sight,"--which was not meant in rudeness, but only, according to an Island +saying, that little people should not express opinions on matters which +don't concern them. + +Before he could say more, the door behind me swung open and a surprised +voice cried-- + +"Diantre! What is this? And who are you, mon gars?" and I was facing +Carette's father, Jean Le Marchant, of whose doings I had heard many a wild +story on Sercq. + +He was a very striking-looking man, tall and straight, and well-built. His +face was keen as a hawk's, and tanned and seamed and very much alive. His +eyes were very sharp and dark, under shaggy white eyebrows. They seemed to +go through me like a knife, and made me wish I had not come. His hair was +quite white, and was cut so short that it bristled all over, and added much +to his fierce wide-awake look, as though he scented dangers all round and +was ready to tackle them with a firm hand. He had a long white moustache +and no other hair on his face. + +While I was still staring at him, Carette's voice came from its +hiding-place-- + +"It is Phil Carre come to look for me, father. He is my good friend. You +will give him welcome." + +"Ah-ha! Mademoiselle commands," and the keen face softened somewhat and +broke into a smile, which was still somewhat grim. "Monsieur Phil Carre, I +greet you! I can hardly say you are welcome, as I do not care for visitors. +But since you came to get news of the little one, I promise not to kill and +eat you, as you seem to expect." + +"Merci, monsieur!" I faltered. For, from all accounts, he was quite capable +of the first, though the second had not actually suggested itself to me. + +"How did you come? I did not see any boat." + +"By the Gale de Jacob. I swam across." + +"Ma foi! Swam across! You have courage, mon gars;" and I saw that I had +risen in his estimation. + +"He swims like a fish and he has no fear," chirped Carette from her +hiding-place. + +"All the same, bon Dieu, the Gouliot is no pond," and he looked through me +again. "How old are you, mon gars?" + +"Thirteen next year." + +"And what are you going to make of yourself when you grow up?" + +"I don't know." + +"For boys of spirit there are always openings," he said, and I knew very +well what he meant, and shook my head. + +"Ah, so! You are not free-traders at Belfontaine," he laughed. At which I +shook my head again, feeling a trifle ashamed of our uncommon virtue, which +could not, I thought, commend itself to so notorious a defier of preventive +law. + +"All the same, he is a fine man, your grandfather, and a seaman beyond +most. You will follow the sea?--or are you for the farming?" + +"The sea sure, but it will be in the trading, I expect." + +"It is larger than the farming, but not very large after all." + +"When will I be able to see Carette, m'sieur?" + +"Not for ten days or so. As soon as she is well enough I shall carry her +over to Mistress Falla's. Then you can see her." + +"Thank you, m'sieur. I think I will go now." + +"Going back same way?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"I'll see you off. Sure you can manage it?" + +"Oh yes. Good-bye, Carette!" as he moved towards the door. + +"Good-bye, Phil! I'll be at Aunt Jeanne's just as soon as I can," piped +Carette, out of the darkness of her inner room. + +And Jean Le Marchant led me back across the Island to the Gale de Jacob, +and stood watching me from Beleme till I scrambled in among the rocks at +the foot of Saut de Juan. + +That was the first time I visited Carette's home and met her father, though +her brothers I had seen at times on Sercq, viewing them from a distance +with no little awe on account of the many strange stories told about them. +They were not in the habit of mixing much with the Island men, however. +They kept their own counsel and their own ways, and this aloofness did not +make for good comradeship when they did come across. + +It was years before I set foot on Brecqhou again. + +These brief glimpses of those bright early days I have set down that you +might know us as we were. For myself I delight to recall them, but if I +were to tell you one quarter of all our doings and sayings when we were boy +and girl together, with but one will--and that Carette's--it would make a +volume passing bounds. + +And it is possible that my recollection of these things is coloured +somewhat with the knowledge and feeling of the later times, for a man may +no more fully enter again into the thoughts of his childhood than he may +enter full grown into his childhood's clothes. I have told them, however, +just as they are present in my own mind, and they are at all events true. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +HOW WE BEGAN TO SPREAD OUR WINGS + + +Ten years make little change in the aspect of Sercq, nor ten times ten for +that matter, though the learned men tell us that the sea and wind and +weather take daily toll of the little land and are slowly and surely +wearing it away. It has not changed much in my time, however, and I have no +doubt it will still stand firm for those who are to follow. + +But ten years in the life of a boy and girl--ten years, which about double +in number those that have gone, and increase experiences tenfold--these +indeed bring mighty changes. + +In those ten years I grew from boy to man, and Carette Le Marchant grew +into a gracious and beautiful woman, and--we grew a little apart. + +That was inevitable, I suppose, and in the natural course of things, for +even two saplings planted side by side will, as they grow into trees, be +wider apart at the top than they are down below. And perhaps it is right, +for if they grew too close together both would suffer. Growth needs space +for full expansion if it is not to be lop-sided. And boy and girl days +cannot last for ever. + +Those ten years taught me much--almost all that I ever learned, until the +bitterer experiences of life brought it all to the test, and sifted out +the chaff, and left me knowledge of the grain. + +And once again I would say that to my mother, Rachel Carre, and to my +grandfather and Krok, and to William Shakespeare and John Bunyan and to my +grandfather's great Bible, I owe in the first place all that I know. All +those books he made me read very thoroughly, and parts of them over and +over again, till I knew them almost by heart. And at the time I cannot say +that this was much to my liking, but later, when I came to understand +better what I read, no urging was needed, for they were our only books, +except Foxe's _Martyrs_, in which I never found any very great enjoyment, +though Krok revelled in it. And I suppose that a man might pass through +life, and bear himself well in it, and never feel lonely, with those books +for his companions. + +I should not, however, omit mention of M. Rousselot, the schoolmaster, who +took a liking to me because of the diligence which was at first none of my +own, but only the outward showing of my mother's and grandfather's strict +oversight. But, as liking begets liking, I came to diligence for M. +Rousselot's sake also, and finally for the sake of learning itself. And +also I learned no little from Mistress Jeanne Falla, who had the wisest +head and the sharpest tongue and the kindest heart in all Sercq. + +But I was never a bookworm, though the love of knowledge and the special +love of those books I have named is with me yet. + +"Whatever you come to be, Phil, though it be only a farmer-fisherman, you +will be all the better man and the happier for knowing all you can," my +grandfather would say to me, when we grew into closer fellowship with my +growing years. "It is not what a man is in position but what he is in +himself that makes for his happiness. And I think," he would add +thoughtfully, "that the more a man understands of life and the more he +thinks upon it--in fact, the more he has inside himself--the less he cares +for the smaller things outside." And I believe he was right. + +He taught me all he knew concerning the farm and the land and the crops, +and taught me not by rule of thumb, but showed me the why and wherefore of +things, and opened the eyes of my understanding to notice the little things +of nature as well as the great, which many people, I have found, pass all +through their lives without ever seeing at all. + +The same with the fishing. He and Krok gave me all they had to give; and, +without vainglory, but simply as grateful testimony to their goodness, I +think that at two-and-twenty I knew as much as any of my age in Sercq, and +more than most. I knew too that there were things I did not know, and did +not care to know, and for that, and all the higher things, I have to thank +my dear mother and my grandfather. + +But growth in its very nature requires a widening sphere. Contentment comes +of experience and satisfaction, and youth, to arrive at that, must needs +have the experience, but craves it as a rule for itself alone. + +Sercq is but a dot on the map, and not indeed that on most, and outside it +lay all the great world, teeming with wonders which could only be seen by +seeking them. + +Up to the time I was sixteen, and Carette fourteen, we were comrades of the +sea and shore and cliffs, and very great friends. Then Aunt Jeanne Falla +insisted on her being sent to school in Peter Port--a grievous blow to us +both, for which we lived to thank her. For Carette, clever as she was by +nature, and wonderfully sharp at picking things up, had no inducements at +home towards anything beyond bodily growth, except, indeed, when she was at +Beaumanoir with Aunt Jeanne, and those times were spasmodic and were +countered by her returns to the free and easy life on Brecqhou. And Aunt +Jeanne loved her dearly and knew what was best for her, and so she +insisted, and Carette went weeping to Peter Port to the Miss Maugers' +school in George Road. + +Her going made a great gap in my life, and the outer things began to call +on me. My ideas respecting them were dim and distorted enough, as I +afterwards found, but their call was all the more insistent for that. Lying +flat on Tintageu, chin on fist, I would watch the white-sailed ships +pushing eagerly to that wonderful outer world and long to be on them. There +were great ships carrying wine and brandy to the West Indies, where the +people were all black, and the most wonderful plants grew, and the palm +trees. And to Canada and Newfoundland, where the great icebergs came down +through the mist. And some carrying fish to the Mediterranean, whose shores +were all alive with wonders, to say nothing of the chances of seeing some +fighting on the way, for England was at war with France and Spain, and +rumours of mighty doings reached us at times. And some taking tea and +tobacco to Hamburg and Emden, where the people were all uncouth foreigners +who spoke neither French nor English and so must offer mighty change from +Sercq. + +Then there were multitudes of smaller vessels, sloops and chasse-marees, +bound on shorter and still more profitable, if more dangerous voyages. +Wherever they were going, on whatsoever errand bent, it was into the great +outside world, and they all cried, "Come!" + +Those shorter flights to the nearer shores had a special appeal of their +own, and the stories one heard among one's fellows--of the wild midnight +runs into Cornish creeks and Devon and Dorset coves, of encounters now and +again with the revenue men, of exhilarating flights and narrow escapes from +Government cutters--these but added zest to the traffic in one's +imagination which, in actual fact, might possibly have been found wanting. + +The moral aspects of the free-trade business did not trouble me in the +slightest in those days. It was the old-established and natural trade of +the Islands, for which they had evidently been set just where they were +with that special end in view. We looked upon it as very much akin to the +running of cargoes into blockaded ports--a large profit for a large risk +and no ill-feeling, though, indeed, at times, human nature would out, and +attempts at the enforcement of laws in the making of which we had no hand, +would result in collisions, and occasionally in the shedding of blood. +Incidents of that kind were, of course, to be regretted, and were certainly +not sought for by our Island men, though doubtless at times the wilder +spirits would seek reprisal for the thwarting of their plans. But when even +one of the great men in England, who made these laws against free-trading, +could tell his fellow-lawmakers that the mind of man never could conceive +of it as at all equalling in turpitude those acts which are breaches of +clear moral virtue--how should it be expected that the parties chiefly +interested should take a stricter view of the matter? + +In course of time my longing for the wider life found expression, first in +looks, and at last in words, which, indeed, were not needed, for my mother +had seen and understood long before I spoke. + +And when my words found vent she was ready for them, and I learned how +firmly set upon her way may be a woman whom one had always looked upon as +gentlest of the gentle and retiring beyond most. + +"Not that, Phil, not that. Anything but that. I would sooner see you in +your grave than a free-trader,"--which seemed to me an extreme view to take +of the matter, but I know now that she had her reasons, and that they were +all-sufficient for her. + +My grandfather set his face against it also, though, indeed, my mother's +strong feeling would have been enough for me. He, however, being a man, +understood better, perhaps, what was in me, for he had been that way +himself, and he set himself to further my craving. + +The only other openings were in the legitimate trading to foreign parts, or +service on a King's ship, or on a privateer, which latter business had come +to be of very great importance in the Islands. And between those three +there could not be any question which my mother and grandfather would +favour. For the perils of the sea are considerable in themselves, and are +never absent from any mother-heart in the Islands. But add to them the +harshness of the King's service and the possibilities of sudden death at +the hands of the King's enemies, and there was no doubt as to which way the +mother-heart would incline. + +For myself, so hungry was I for wider doings, I would have put my neck +under the yoke sooner than not go at all, and when they saw that spread my +wings I must, they consented to my shipping on one of the Guernsey traders +to foreign parts, and my heart was lighter than it had been for many a day. + +I was eighteen, tall and strong, and, thanks to my grandfather and Krok, a +capable seaman, so far as the limited opportunities of our little Island +permitted, and the rest would come easily, for all their teaching had given +me a capacity to learn. + +That first parting from home and my mother and grandfather and Krok was a +terrible wrench, full as I was of the wonderful world I was going out to +see. I had never been away from them before, and the sight of my mother's +woeful attempts at cheerfulness came near to breaking me down, and remained +with me for many a day. In my eagerness for the wider life I had forgotten +the hole my going must make in hers. And yet I do not think she would have +had me stay, for she was as wise as she was gentle, and she ever set other +people's wishes before her own. She had borne a man-child, and the +inevitable Island penalty of parting with him she bore without a murmur, +though the look on her face told its own tale at times. + +"Change of pasture is good for young calves," was Jeanne Falla's +characteristic comment when they were discussing the matter one evening. +And when my mother, in a moment of weakness, urged the likelihood, if not +the absolute certainty, of my never returning alive, Aunt Jeanne's +trenchant retort, "Go where you can, die where you must," put an end to the +discussion and helped me to my wishes. + +My grandfather procured me a berth as seaman on the barque _Hirondelle_ of +Peter Port, Nicolle master, and in her I made three voyages--to the West +Indies, then on to Gaspe in the St. Lawrence, and thence to the +Mediterranean. That was our usual round, and what with contrary winds, and +detentions in various ports, and the necessity of waiting and dodging the +enemy's cruisers and privateers, the voyages were long ones, and not +lacking in incident. + +My story, however, is not concerned with them, except incidentally, and I +will refer to them as little as possible. + +My grandfather went across with me to Peter Port the first time. He had +known George Nicolle many years, and felt me safe in his hands, and his +confidence was well placed. The _Hirondelle_ was a comfortable ship, and I +never heard a real word of complaint aboard of her. Growling and grumbling +there was occasionally, of course, or some of the older hands would never +have been happy, but it amounted to nothing, and there was no real ground +for it. + +She was still only loading when we boarded her, and it was three days later +before we cast off and headed up Little Russel for the open sea. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +HOW I BEARDED LIONS IN THEIR DENS + + +That first night in Peter Port, when my grandfather had wrung my hand for +the last time, looking at me with prayers in his eyes, and bidding me do my +duty and keep clean, and had put off for home in his boat, and work was +over for the day and I my own master, I decided on making a call which was +much in my heart, and to which I had been looking forward for days past. + +I cleaned myself up, and made myself as smart as possible, and set off for +the Miss Maugers' school in George Road. + +It was not until I saw the house that doubts began to trouble me as to the +fitness of my intention. It was a much larger house than any I had ever +been in, and there was a straightness and primness about it which somehow +did not suggest any very warm welcome to a young sailorman, whose pride in +his first appointment and in the spreading of his wings for his first +flight underwent sudden shrinkage. + +It took me a good half-hour's tramping to and fro, past the house and back +again, eyeing it carefully each time as though I was trying to discover the +best way to break into it, to screw my courage up to the point. There were +two windows on each side of the door and two rows of five above, fourteen +in all, and every window had its little curtains rigged up exactly alike +to a hair's-breadth. If any one of them had been an inch awry I should have +known it, and would have felt less of an intruder. + +I had not seen Carette for over six months, and the last time she was home +most of my time, when we met, had been spent in discovering and puzzling +over the changes that had come over her. These ran chiefly towards a +sobriety of behaviour which was not natural to her, and which seemed to me +assumed for my special benefit and tantalisation, and I was expecting every +minute to see the sober cloak cast aside and the laughing Carette of +earlier days dance out into the sunshine of our old camaraderie. + +Aunt Jeanne Falla's twinkling eyes furthered the hope. But it was not +realised. Carette unbent, indeed, and we were good friends as ever, but +there was always about her that new cloak of staidness and ladylike polish +which became her prettily enough indeed, but which I could very well have +done without. For, you see, in all our doings hitherto, she had always +looked up to me as leader, even when she twirled my boyish strength about +her finger and made me do her will. And now, though I was bigger and +stronger than ever, she had, in some ways, gone beyond me. She was, in +fact, seeing the world, such as it was in Guernsey in those days, and it +made me feel more than ever how small a place Sercq was, and more than ever +determined to see the world also. + +I warped myself up to Miss Mauger's green front door at last and gave a +valiant rap of the knocker, and hung on to it by sheer force of will to +keep myself from running away when I had done it. And when a maid in a prim +white cap opened the door, I had lost my tongue, and stood staring at her +till she smiled encouragingly, as though she thought I might have come to +ask her out for a walk. + +"I've come to see Carette--Ma'm'zelle Le Marchant, I mean," I stammered, +very red and awkward. + +"If you'll come in, I'll tell Miss Mauger," she smiled; and I stepped +inside, and was shown into one of the front rooms with the very straight +curtains. The room inside was very stiff and straight also. It occurred to +me that if all the other rooms were like it Carette must have found them a +very great change from Brecqhou. Perhaps it was living among these things +that had such an effect upon her that she could not shake it off when she +came home for the holidays. The stiff, straight chairs offered me no +invitation to be seated, and I stood waiting in the middle of the room. +Then the door opened, and a little elderly lady came in, and saluted me +very formally with a curtsey bow which rather upset me, for no one had ever +done such a thing to me before. It made me feel awkward and ill at ease. + +Miss Mauger seemed to me very like her drawing-room, straight and precise +and stiff. Her face reminded me somewhat of Aunt Jeanne Falla's, but lacked +the kindly twinkle of the eyes which redeemed Aunt Jeanne's shrewdest and +sharpest speeches. She had little fiat rows of grey curls, tight to her +head, on each side of her face, for all the world like little ormer shells +sticking to a stone. + +"Monsieur Le Marchant?" she asked. + +"No, madame--ma'm'zelle. I am Phil Carre." + +"Oh!... You are not then one of Mademoiselle Le Marchant's brothers?" + +"No, ma'm'zelle." + +"Oh!" + +"We have always been friends since we were children," I explained +stumblingly, for her bright little eyes were fixed on me, through her +gold-rimmed spectacles, like little gimlets, and made me feel as if I was +doing something quite wrong in being there. + +"Ah!" which seemed to imply that she had suspected something of the kind, +and it was a good thing for Carette that she was safely removed from such +companionship in the future. + +"And I am going off on my first voyage to the West Indies--" + +"Ah!" in a tone that seemed to say that as far as she and her house were +concerned it was to be hoped I would stop there. + +"And I thought I would like to see Carette again before I went--" + +"Ah!... And may I ask if you have sought permission from Mademoiselle Le +Marchant's relatives before making this call?" + +"Permission?--To see Carette? No, madame--ma'm'zelle. I never dreamt of +such a thing. Permission to see Carette! Ma fe!" + +"Ah!" ... ("What a strangely innocent young man!--or is it impudent +boldness?"--That was what was going on in her mind, I think, as she bored +at me with the little gimlets. But she said--) "We make it an inflexible +rule not to allow our young ladies to see any but their own relations, +except, of course, with the special permission of their relatives or +guardians." + +"If I had known, I would have got a letter from Aunt Jeanne Falla, but such +a thing never entered into my head for a moment." + +"You know Madame Le Marchant--Miss Jeanne Falla that was?" + +"Know Aunt Jeanne?--Well, I should--I mean, yes, madame,--I mean +ma'm'zelle. She has known me from the day I was born." + +"Ah!... And you think she would have accorded you permission to see +mademoiselle?" + +"Why, of course she would. She would never dream of me being in Peter Port +without calling to see Carette." + +She looked me through and through again, and said at last-- + +"If you will excuse me for a moment, I will consult with my sisters. It is +a matter which concerns them also, and I should wish them to share the +responsibility," and she dropped me another frigid little salute and backed +out of the door. + +And I felt very sorry for Carette, and did not wonder so much now at the +little stiffnesses of manner I had noticed in her the last time we met. + +And presently the door opened, and the little lady stole in again with the +same little formal greeting, and, after looking at me till I felt cold +about the neck, said, "You wish to see Mademoiselle Le Marchant?" And then +I noticed that the little ormer shell curls about this little lady's face +were not all gray, but mixed gray and brown, and that this little face was, +if anything, still more frigidly ungracious than the last, a regular little +martinet of a face, and I knew that it must be another of the Miss Maugers. + +"Yes, ma'm'zelle, with your permission." + +"My sister states that you are acquainted with Madame Le Marchant, of +Beaumanoir, whom we used to know intimately--" + +"I have known Aunt Jeanne from the day I was born," I said, perhaps a +trifle vehemently, for the absurdity of all these precautions between +myself and Carette began to ruffle me. In fact, I began to feel almost as +though there must be some grounds for their doubts about me which I had +never hitherto recognised in myself, and it made me more decided than ever +to have my own way in the matter. + +"My grandfather is Philip Carre, of Belfontaine," I said, with a touch of +the ruffle in my voice, "and he is a great friend of Mr. Claude Gray--" + +"The Quaker," she said, with a pinch of the thin little lips. + +And then the door opened, and, with the usual curtsey, still another Miss +Mauger joined us, and her little ormer shells were all brown, and she wore +no spectacles, and the corners of her mouth were on a level with the +centre, and looked as if they might on occasion even go up instead of down. +She looked at me half mistrustfully, like a bird which doubts one's +intentions towards its bit of plunder, and then, just like the bird, seemed +to gauge my innocence of evil, and bent and whispered into her sister's +gray and brown ormer shells. + +"My sister informs me that Mademoiselle Le Marchant has been apprised of +your visit and has expressed a desire to see you, and so--" + +"Under the circumstances," said the other. + +"Under the circumstances, we will make an exception from our invariable +rule and permit this interview." + +"On the understanding--" began the other. + +"On the understanding that it is not to form a precedent--" + +"And also," said the younger sister hastily, "that one of us is present." + +"Certainly, that one of us is present," said the elder. + +"By all means," I said, "and I am very much obliged to you. I really do not +mean to eat Carette, nor even to run away with her." + +"We should certainly prevent any attempt of the kind," said the elder +sister severely. + +They whispered together for a moment, then she shook out her prim skirts +and dropped me a curtsey, and went away to fetch Carette. + +"You see we have to be very strict in such matters," said the younger Miss +Mauger, settling herself very gracefully on a chair so that her skirts +disposed themselves in nice straight lines. "With forty young ladies under +one's charge one cannot be too careful." + +"I am quite sure you are very careful of them, ma'm'zelle," I said, at +which she actually smiled a very little bird-like smile. "I will tell Aunt +Jeanne how very careful you are next time I see her, and she will laugh and +say, 'Young maids and young calves thrive best under the eyes of their +mistress.'" + +"I do not know much about calves"--and then the door opened and Carette +came in. + +She ran up to me with both hands outstretched. + +"Oh, Phil, I was so afraid I was not to see you! And you are going away? +How big you're getting! How long will you be away?" + +This was very delightful, for I had been fearing that the little touch of +stiffness, which I had experienced the last time I saw her, and which I now +quite understood, might have grown out of knowledge. + +"We are going first to the West Indies and then on to Canada. It may be a +long time before I'm back, and I did want to see you once more before I +went. I began to fear I was not going to." + +"'Oh, we're very strict here, you know, and we have rules. Oh, heaps of +rules! But I knew dear Miss Maddy would manage it when she knew how I +wanted to see you;" and she ran up to Miss Maddy and kissed the little +brown ormer shells over her ears, and Miss Maddy patted them hastily lest +the tiny kiss should have set them awry. + +"And how did you leave them all in Sercq? And when did you see Aunt Jeanne +last? And who's taking care of my boat? And--" + +"Wait!" I laughed, "or I shall forget some of them. I saw Aunt Jeanne this +morning just before I left. She thought we sailed at once. She would have +sent you her love, and maybe some gache, if she had known--" + +"Ah, ma fe! How I wish she had known!" sighed Carette longingly, for Aunt +Jeanne Falla's gache had a name all over Sercq. + +"And everybody is well except old Pere Guerin, and he is cutting a new +tooth, they say, and it makes him sour in the temper." + +"Why, he's over ninety!" exclaimed Carette. + +"Ninety-two next January. That's why he's so annoyed about it. And your +boat is safe in the top nook of Port du Moulin, all covered over with +sailcloth and gorse. Krok and I did it, and he will soak it for ten days +before you come home, and have it all ready for you." + +"The dear old Krok!" + +"Oh, we have taken very great care of it, I assure you. But maybe you will +be too grown-up to care for it by the time you get back." + +"Perhaps!" And oddly enough--though indeed it may have been only my own +thought, and without reasonable foundation--thereupon there seemed to fall +between us a slight veil of distance. So that, though we talked of Sercq +and of our friends there, it seemed to me that we were not quite as we had +been, and I could not for the life of me tell why, nor, indeed, for certain +if it were so or not. + +When I was leaving, however, Carette put both her hands in mine and gave me +Godspeed as heartily as I could wish, and I made my best bow to Miss Maddy, +and went back to the _Hirondelle_ well pleased at having seen Carette and +at her hearty greeting and farewell, but with a little wonder and doubt at +my heart as to what the final effect of all this schooling might be. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +HOW WE GREW, AND GROWING, GREW APART + + +As I said, I am not going to waste time telling you of my three long +voyages, beyond what is absolutely necessary. These lie for the most part +like level plains in my memory, though not without their out-jutting +points. But the heights and depths lay beyond. + +Very clear to me, however, is the fact that it was ever-growing thought of +Carette, more even, I am bound to confess, than thought of my mother and +grandfather, that kept me clear of pitfalls which were not lacking to the +unwary in those days as in these. Thought of Carette, too, that braced me +to the quiet facing of odds on more than one occasion. + +Our second voyage was distinguished by a whole day's fierce fighting with a +French privateer off the Caicos Islands, while proceeding peacefully on our +way from the newly acquired island of Trinidad to the St. Lawrence. It was +my first experience of fighting, and a hot one at that. Between killed and +wounded we lost five men, but the Frenchman left ten dead on our deck the +first time he boarded, and eight the second, and after that did not try +again. But he dogged us all the rest of that day and did his best to +cripple us, until a fortunate shot from a carronade, which Master Nicolle +ran out astern, nipped his foremast and set us free. I got a cut from a +cutlass in the left arm, but it healed readily, and Captain Nicolle was +pleased to compliment me on my behaviour. But, to tell the truth, I was so +angry at the Frenchman's insolent interference with us, that I thought of +nothing at the time but taking it out of him with hearty thrust and blow +whenever chance offered. + +On our third voyage the _Hirondelle_ went ashore in a gale off Cape +Hatteras, and Captain Nicolle and half our crew were drowned. The rest of +us scrambled ashore _sans_ everything, but were well treated, and as soon +as we could travel were forwarded to New York, and in time found a ship to +take us to London. + +So that, on the whole, I had seen a fair amount of life and death and the +larger world outside, and felt my years almost doubled from what they were +when I used to lie on Tintageu and watch the white-sailed ships pressing +out to the great beyond. + +But the things that stand out now most clearly in my memory are the +homecomings and the partings and all they meant to me, but more especially +the homecomings--the eager looking forward from the moment our bows pointed +homewards; the joy of seeing my mother and grandfather and dear old Krok +and George Hamon--Uncle George by adoption, failing that closer +relationship which Providence had denied him--sympathetic listener to all +our childish troubles and kindly rescuer from endless scrapes; the biting +intensity of longing to meet Carette again, and to find out how things were +with her and how things were between us, a longing that taught me the +meaning of heartache. + +For this was how matters stood between us--at least as I saw them. Each +time I came home I managed, in one way or another, to get a sight, at all +events, of Carette, though in some cases little more. Twice I stormed the +maiden fortress in George Road, and ran the gauntlet of the Miss Maugers +with less discomfiture than on the first occasion, through Miss Maddy's +sympathy and my added weight of years and experience. And once Carette was +making holiday with Aunt Jeanne, and Beaumanoir saw more of me than did +Belfontaine. + +And my very vivid recollection of all those times is this--that Carette +grew more beautiful each time I saw her, both in mind and body; that my +feeling for her grew in me beyond all other growth, though the years were +building me solidly; and that a fear sprang up in me at last that she was +perhaps going to grow out of my reach, as she certainly was growing out of +my understanding. + +Each time we met her greeting was of the warmest, and had in it the +recollection of those earlier days. That, I said to myself, was the real +Carette. + +And then there would gradually come upon us that thin veil of distance, as +though the years and the growth and the experiences of life were setting us +a little apart. And that, I said, was the Miss Maugers. + +For my part I would have had Carette as satisfied with my sole +companionship as in the days when we romped bare-legged among the pools and +rocks, and woke the basking gulls and cormorants with our shouts, and dared +the twisting currents with unfettered limbs and no thought of wrong. These +things in all their fulness of delight were, of course, no longer possible +to us. But the joyous spirit of them I would fain have retained, and I +found it slipping elusively away. + +We were, in fact, and inevitably, putting away the things of our childhood +and becoming man and woman, with all the wider and deeper feelings incident +thereto. The changes were inevitable and--Carette grew in some ways more +quickly than I did. So that, whereas I had always been undisputed leader in +all things, even when it was the accomplishing of her wishes, now I found +myself looking up to her as something above me, possibly beyond me, +something certainly to strive after with all that was in me, and without +which everything else would be nothing. + +Perhaps I had been inclined to take things somewhat for granted. Jeanne +Falla did not fail, in due course, to tell me so, and she was a very shrewd +woman and understood her kind better than any man that ever was born. Now, +taking things for granted is always, and under any circumstances, but most +especially where the unknown is in question, a most unwise thing to do. And +what can equal for unfathomableness the workings of a woman's heart? + +I had never given a thought to any other girl than Carette, unless by way +of unfavourable comparison. It is true I had never come across any girl so +well worth thinking about. The merry dark eyes with their deepening depths; +the sweet wide mouth that flashed so readily into laughter, and set one +thinking of the glad little waves and little white shells on Herm beach; +the mane of dark brown hair--she wore it primly braided at the Miss +Maugers'--in which gleams of sunshine seemed to have become entangled and +never been able to find their way out,--these went with me through the soft +seductions of the Antilles, and the more experienced beguilements of the +Mediterranean, and armed me sufficiently against them all;--these also that +filled with rosy light many a long hour that for my comrades was dark and +tedious, and kept my heart high and strong when the times were hard and +bitter. + +I had wondered at times, but always pleasurably, at the very unusual amount +of education Carette was getting, for it was unusual at that time and under +the circumstances, so far as I understood them. But I rejoiced at it, +remembering my grandfather's saying in my own case; and even when the +results of it seemed to drop little veils between us, I am certain I never +wished things otherwise so far as Carette was concerned, though perhaps for +my own sake I might. + +Jean Le Marchant of Brecqhou had prospered in his business, I knew. His six +stalwart sons had been too busy contributing to that prosperity to acquire +any great book-learning. They were all excellent sailors, bold +free-traders, and somewhat overbearing to their fellows. It was only slowly +that the idea came to me that the blood that was in them might be of a +different shade and kind from that which flowed so temperately in our cool +Sercq veins. + +It was much thinking of Carette and her ever-growing beauty and +accomplishments which brought me to that. Truly there was no girl in all +Sercq like her, nor on Guernsey I would wager, and her father and brothers +also were very different from the other Island men. As likely as not they +were French, come over to escape the troubles. That would account for many +things, and the idea, once in my mind, took firm root there. Sometime, when +opportunity offered, I would ask Jeanne Falla. She would certainly know +all about her own husband's family. Whether she would tell me was quite +another matter. + +Up to now, you see, Carette, as Carette, had sufficed, but now Carette was +growing out of herself and her surroundings, and it was the why and +wherefore of this that my thoughts went in search of. For if Carette grew +out of her surroundings she might grow beyond me, and it behoved me to see +to it, for she had grown to be a part of my life, and life without her +would be a poor thing indeed. + +And all these things I used to turn over and over in my heart during the +sultry night-watches in the West Indies, when the heat lightnings gleamed +incessantly all round the horizon, and it was too hot to sleep even when +off duty; and during the grimmer watches round about Newfoundland, with the +fog as thick as wool inside and outside one, and the smell of the floating +bergs in the air; and most of all when we were plunging homeward as fast as +we could make it, and the call of Carette drew my heart faster than my +body, till my body fairly ached for sight and sound of her. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +HOW AUNT JEANNE GAVE A PARTY + + +It was on my return from my fourth voyage--in the brig _Sarnia_--that +things began to happen. + +The voyage had been a disastrous one all through. We had bad weather right +across to the Indies, and had to patch up there as best we could. It was +when we were slowly making our way north that a hurricane, such as those +seas know, caught us among the Bahamas and brought us to a sudden end. + +The ship had been badly strained already on the voyage out, and the repairs +had been none too well done. Our masts went like carrots and we were +rolling helplessly in the grip of the storm, pumping doggedly but without +hope against seams that gaped like a sieve, when the Providence that rules +even hurricanes flung us high on a sandy coast and left us there to help +ourselves. + +Of our blind wanderings in that gruesome land of swamps and sand, which, +when we at last escaped from it, we learned was Florida, I must not write +here. It was months before such of us as were left crawled through into +civilisation, and it is not too much to say that every day of the time +after we parted from the wreck we carried our lives in our hands. It was +sixteen months almost to a day before I set foot once more on Peter Port +quay. For beggars cannot be choosers, and for the very clothes we stood in +we were indebted to the kind hearts who took pity on us in the American +States. We had had to wait at every point till means of forwarding us could +be found, and we were welcomed in Peter Port as men returned from the dead. +Within two hours I was scrambling up through the ferns and gorse above Port +a la Jument to the welcome that awaited me at home. + +I peeped through the window before going in, and saw the table laid for +supper and my mother busy at the hearth. She turned when I entered, +supposing it was my grandfather and Krok, and then with a cry she was on my +neck. + +Ah, how good it was to feel her there, and to find her unbroken by all the +terrible waiting! She had hoped and hoped, and refused to give up hoping +long after the others had done so. She told me, between smiles and tears, +that each time I went she had felt that she had probably seen me for the +last time. "But," she said quietly, "I left you in the good God's hands, +and I believed that however it was with you it would be well." + +Then my grandfather and Krok came in, and my grandfather said very +fervently, "Now God be praised!" and wrung my right hand as if he could +never wring it enough, while Krok wrung the other, with eyes that stood out +of his head like marbles and yet were full of tears. + +During supper I told them shortly what had befallen us, and I had so much +to tell, and they so much to hear, that we none of us supped over well, yet +none of us had probably ever enjoyed a supper like it. + +Then in turn I was hungry for news, and began asking about this one and +that, intending so to come presently to Carette without baring my heart. +But my dear mother, guessing perhaps what was in me, gave me full measure. + +"Jeanne Falla has a party to-night, my boy, and Carette is stopping with +her. You should go down and give them a surprise." + +"I will go," I said, and jumped up at once to see if, among the things I +had left behind when I went away, I could find enough to rig myself out +suitably to the occasion. + +My mother had a new blue guernsey just finished for me, a wonderful +guernsey, when you think of it. She had, I think, gone on working at it, +after the others had given me up, just to show her trust in Providence, and +her dear eyes shone when she saw me in it. Loans from my grandfather, whose +full stature I had now attained, and whose contribution was of importance, +and from Krok, who would have given me one of his eyes if I had needed it, +filled all my requirements, and I set off for Beaumanoir about nine o'clock +as glad a man as any in Sercq that night. + +And oh, the sweetness of the night and all things in it. The solemn pulse +of the great sea in Saut de Juan; the voices of many waters in the Gouliot +Pass; the great dusky cushions of gorse studded with blooms that looked +white under the moon; the mingling in the soft salt air of the scent of +hedge-roses and honeysuckle, of dewy, trodden grass and the sweet breath of +cows--ay, even the smell of the pigsties was good that night, and mightily +refreshing after the dark Everglades of Florida. + +Aunt Jeanne's hospitable door stood wide. She kept open house that night, +for the old observances were dear to her ever-young heart. I walked right +into her kitchen, and she met me with a cry of amazement and delight, and +every wrinkle in the weather-browned face creased into a smile. + +"Why, Phil, mon gars! Is it possible?" she cried. "You are welcome as one +from the dead. Though, ma fe, I hoped all along, as your mother did. And, +my good! what a big fellow it is! And not bad-looking either! I used to +think you'd grow up square. You were the squarest boy I ever saw. But +foreign parts have drawn you out like a ship's mast." + +She was dragging me by the hand all the time, and now halted me in front of +the great square fern-bed in the corner between the window and the hearth, +and stood looking up into my face with the air of an artist awaiting +approval of her latest masterpiece. A dear old face, sharp-featured, +clever, all alive with the brightness of that which was in her, and with +two bright dark eyes sparkling like a robin's under the black silk +sun-bonnet which the gossips said she wore day and night. + +I knew she looked just all that, but no eyes or thought had I for Aunt +Jeanne or anyone else just then. + +For here in front of me was the great green fern-bed, green no longer but +transformed into a radiant shrine of flowers. Nine feet long it was, and +not much less in width, and its solid oaken sides rose some two feet from +the floor. It was heaped indeed with the bronze-green fronds and +russet-gold stalks of fresh-cut bracken, but this was only the ordinary +workaday foundation, and was almost hidden beneath a coverlet of +roses--roses of every hue from damask-red to saffron-yellow and purest +white, heaped and strewn in richest profusion and filling the room with +perfume. From somewhere in the roof above, long sprays of creeping geranium +and half-opened honeysuckle and branches of tree fuchsia hung down to the +sides of the couch and formed a canopy, the most beautiful one could +imagine. For the flowers of the honeysuckle looked like tiny baby-fingers +reaching down for something below, and the red and purple fuchsias looked +like a rain of falling stars. And beneath it sat the Queen of the Revels +dressed all in white, her unbound hair rippling about her like a dark +sunset cloud, till it lost itself among the creamy many-coloured petals +below,--Carette, the loveliest flower of all. + +She had shaken her hair over her face to veil her modesty at the very +outspoken admiration of some of the earlier comers, but I caught the +sparkle of her dark eyes as she looked up at me through the silken mesh, +and the sweet slim figure set the flowery canopy shaking with its +restrained eagerness. And my heart jumped within me at the lovely sight. + +Disregardful of custom, I was stooping to speak to her, when Aunt Jeanne +dragged me away with a gratified laugh, and a quick "Nenni, nenni! She may +not speak till the time comes, or dear knows what will happen to us! Come +away, mon gars, and tell me where you have been and what you have been +doing," and she sat me down in a corner at the far end of the big dresser, +and herself beside me so that I should not get away, and made me talk, but +I could not take my eyes fora moment off the slim white figure on the +radiant bed of roses. + +A most delightful place at all times was that great kitchen at Beaumanoir, +with its huge fireplace like a smaller room opening off the larger, and put +to many other uses besides simply that of cooking;--its black oak presses +and dressers and shelves all aglow with much polishing, and bright with +crockery and pewter; its great hanging rack under the ceiling, laden with +hams and sides of bacon and a hundred and one odds and ends of household +use; and the great table in the corner weighted now with piles of +currant-cake--Aunt Jeanne's gache had a name in Sercq--and more substantial +faring still. + +There were about a score of young men and girls there, with a sprinkling of +older folk, and every minute brought fresh arrivals to add to the talk and +laughter. Each new-comer on entering paid homage to the silent figure on +the green bed, and gave me boisterous welcome home as they came to receive +a word of greeting from the mistress of the house. + +Everyone knew everyone else most intimately. Scarce one but was related to +half the people in the room. And all were in the gayest of spirits, for +there, in a far corner, old Nicholas Grut every now and again gave the +strings of his fiddle an impatient twang, as an intimation that all this +was sheer waste of time, and that the only proper business in life was +dancing. And presently they would begin, and they would dance until the sun +rose, and then--well, the new day had its own rites and ceremonies, and +eyes were bright and pulses leaping, and hearts were all a-flutter with +hopes and fears of what the day might bring. + +"And who is this, Jeanne Falla?" I asked, as one came in whom I had never +seen before--a young man, dark and well-looking, and very handsomely +dressed compared with the rest of us. And he stood so long before the +green-bed, gazing at Carette, that there sprang up in me a sudden desire to +take him by the neck and drag him away, or, better still, to hurl him +through the open door into outer darkness. + +"Tiens!" said Aunt Jeanne softly, "it is the young Torode--" + +"Torode? I do not know him. Who is he?" + +"C'est ca. It is since you left. His father has settled himself on Herm. He +is a great man in these parts nowadays. They do say--" + +"They do say--?" I asked, as she stopped short. + +"Bon dou! They say many strange things about M. Torode. But you know how +folks talk," she murmured. + +"And what kind of things do they say, Aunt Jeanne?" + +"Oh, all kinds of things. He's making a fine streak of fat--" + +"So much the better for him." + +"Maybe! But, mon dou, when a man gets along too quickly, the others will +talk, you know. They say he has the devil's own luck in all he undertakes. +He has three of the fastest chasse-marees in the Islands, and they say he's +never lost a cargo yet. And they say he has dealings with the devil and +Bonaparte and all the big merchants in Havre and Cherbourg. But of late +he's gone in for privateering, and the streak's growing a fat one, I can +tell you. He's got the finest schooner in these waters, and, ma fe, broth +and soup are both alike to him, I trow! Oh yes, he can see through a fog, +can Monsieur Torode." + +"And what does Peter Port say to it all?" + +"Pergui! Peter Port didn't like having its bread taken out of its +mouth,--not that it's bread contents Monsieur Torode, not by a very long +way. Fine doings there are on Herm, they say, when they're all at home +there. But he's too big and bold a man to interfere with. He pays for the +island, they say, and a good price too. Some say he's a wealthy emigre +turning his talents to account. For myself--" and the black sun-bonnet +nodded knowingly. + +"You don't care for him over much, Aunt Jeanne?" and I felt unreasonably +glad that it was so. + +"Ma fe, I've never set eyes on the man and never wish to! But such luck is +not too natural, you understand. The devil's flour has a way of turning to +bran, and what comes with the flood goes out with the ebb sometimes." + +"All the same you invite the young one here." + +"The door of Beaumanoir is wide to-night, and everyone who chooses to come +is welcome. Though I wouldn't say but what some are more welcome than +others.... Brecqhou and Herm have dealings together, you understand," she +murmured presently. "That is how this youngster finds himself here--Bernel, +they call him. The old one is much away and the young one does his business +hereabouts. And see the airs he puts on! One would think the Island +belonged to him, and he hasn't had the grace to come and say how d'ye do to +me yet. For myself--" + +"For yourself, Aunt Jeanne?" + +"Eh b'en!" with a twinkle. "One likes one's own calves best, oui gia!" and +I felt like kissing the little old brown hand. + +Young Torode had joined the others, and was laughing and joking with the +girls, though it seemed to me that the men received him somewhat coldly. +Then some remark among them directed his attention to Jeanne Falla and +myself in the corner behind the dresser, and he came over at once. + +"Pardon, Mistress Falla!" he said,--I think I have said before that Aunt +Jeanne was more generally called by her maiden name of Falla than by her +married one of Le Marchant, and she preferred it so,--"I was wondering +where you were. You have given us a most charming surprise,"--with a nod +towards the flower-decked green-bed. "But why is the goddess condemned to +silence?" + +"Because it's the rule. And, ma fe, it is good for a girl's tongue to be +tied at times." Then, in answer to the enquiring looks he was casting at +me, she said, "This is Phil Carre of Belfontaine, whom some folks thought +dead. But I never did, and he's come back to show I was right. This is M. +Bernel Torode of Herm, Phil, mon gars." + +And young Torode and I looked into one another's eyes and knew that we were +not to be friends. What he saw amiss in me I do not know, but to me there +was about him something overmasterful which roused in me a keen desire to +master it, or thwart it. + +"You are but just home, then, M. Carre?" he asked. + +"This evening." + +"From--?" + +"From Florida last by way of New York." + +"Ah! Many ships about?" + +"Not many but our own." + +"There will be no bones left to pick soon," he laughed, "and the appetite +grows. And what with the preventive men and their new powers it will soon +be difficult to pick up an honest living." + +"From all accounts M. Torode manages it one way or another," I said. + +"All the same it gets more difficult. It's a case of too many pots and not +enough lobsters." + +And then Jeanne Falla, who had gone across to the others, suddenly clapped +her hands, and Nicholas Grut's hungry bow dashed into a quick step that set +feet dancing in spite of themselves. + +And Carette sprang up from her seat and stepped out of her bower, and her +face, radiant at her release, had in it all the loveliness of all the +flowers from among which she came. The roses clung to her white gown as +though loth to let her go, and strewed the ground as she passed, and no +man's heart but must have jumped the quicker at sight of her coming towards +him with welcomes in her eyes and hands. + +She came straight across to us, and the other girls watched eagerly to see +which of us she would speak to first--for Midsummer Eve is as full of signs +and omens as Aunt Jeanne's gache of currants. + +She gave a hand to each of us, the left to me and the right to young +Torode, and the left is nearer the heart, said I to myself. + +"Phil, mon cher," she cried joyously. "It is good to see you alive and home +again. And some foolish ones said you were gone for good! And you are +bigger and browner than ever--" and she held me off at arm's length for +inspection. "And when did you arrive?" + +"I reached home just in time for supper." + +"Ah, how glad your mother would be! She and Aunt Jeanne and I were the only +ones who hoped still, I do believe." + +"May I beg the first dance, mademoiselle?" broke in young Torode, for the +couples were whirling past us and he had waited impatiently while we +talked. + +"I must go and tie up my hair first. It looks like a tangle of vraic," she +laughed, and slipped away by the sides of the room and disappeared through +the doorway. And young Torode immediately took up his post there to claim +his dance as soon as she returned. + +I was vexed with myself for giving him first chance. But truly my thoughts +had not been on the dancing, but only on Carette herself, and I would have +been content to look at her and listen to her all the evening without a +thought of anything more. + +Young Torode's visible intention of keeping to himself as much of her +company as possible put me on my mettle, however, and when he dropped her +into a seat after that dance, I immediately claimed the next. + +I could dance as well, I think, as any man in Sercq at that time, but I +felt myself but a clumsy sailorman after watching young Torode. For his +easy grace and confidence put us all into the shade, and did not, I am +afraid, tend to goodwill and fellowship on our part. + +The other men, I noticed, had but little to say to him or he to them. He +danced now and then with one or other of the girls, and they seemed to +regard it more as an honourable experience than as matter of great +enjoyment. And the man with whose special belle-amie he was dancing would +sit and eye the pair gloomily the while, and remain silent and sulky for a +time afterwards. + +But, except for such little matters as that, we had a right merry time of +it. Aunt Jeanne saw to that as energetically as though the hospitality of +Beaumanoir had had doubts cast upon it, a thing that never could have +happened. But Aunt Jeanne was energetic in all things, and this was her own +special yearly feast. And, ma fe, one may surely do what one likes with +one's own, and though one cannot recover one's youth one can at all events +live young again with those who are young. + +The lively spirits of the younger folk worked so upon their elders, that +Uncle Henry Vaudin, who was seventy if he was a day, actually caught hold +of Aunt Jeanne, as she was flitting to and fro, and tried to dance her into +the whirling circle. But the result was only many collisions and much +laughter, as the youngsters nearly galloped over them, and Aunt Jeanne and +her partner stood in the centre laughing, till that dance was over. + +Then she immediately challenged him to the hat dance, as being less trying +to the legs and requiring more brain, and calling on Carette to make their +third, they danced between three caps laid on the floor, in a way that +earned a storm of applause. + +Then two of the men danced the broom dance--each holding one end of the +broom and passing it neatly under their arms, and over their heads, and +under their legs, as they danced in quick step to the music. + +And, in the intervals of such hard work, we ate--cold meats, cunningly +cooked, and of excellent quality because Aunt Jeanne had bred them herself; +and the best made bread and the sweetest butter in Sercq, and heaps of +spicy gache, all of Aunt Jeanne's own making. And we drank cider of Aunt +Jeanne's own pressing, and equal to anything you could get in Guernsey. And +now and again the men-folk smoked in the doorway, and if the very excellent +tobacco she provided for them was not of her own growing, it was only +because she had not so far undertaken its cultivation, and because tobacco +could be got very cheap when you knew how to get it. + +And then we danced again till the walls spun round quicker than ourselves, +and even Uncle Nico's seasoned arms began to feel the strain. And +still--"Faster! Faster!" cried the men, and the girls would not be beaten. +And the ropes of flowers above the green-bed swung as though in a summer +gale, and the roses leaped out and joined in the dance, till the smell of +them, as they were trampled by the flying feet, filled all the room. + +Then, while we lay spent and panting, the men mopping themselves with their +kerchiefs, and the girls fanning themselves with theirs, Aunt Jeanne, who +had had time to recover from her unwonted exertions with Uncle Henry +Vaudin, recited some of the old-time poems, of which she managed to carry a +string in her head in addition to all the other odds and ends which it +contained. + +She gave us "L' R'tou du Terre-Neuvi opres San Prumi Viage"-- + + "Mais en es-tu bain seu, ma fille? + Not' Jean est-i don bain r'v'nu? + Tu dis que nou l'a veu en ville, + I m'etonn' qu'i n'sait deja v'nu"-- + +eighteen long verses, full of tender little touches telling of the +hysterical upsetting in the mother's heart at the safe return of her boy +from the perils of the sea. + +And to me, who had just seen it all in my own mother's heart, it struck +right home, and came near to making me foolish in the matter of wet eyes. +And, besides, Aunt Jeanne would keep looking at me, as she reeled it off in +her sharp little voice, which was softer than I had ever heard it before, +and that made Carette and all the other girls look at me also, till I was +glad when she was done, I was getting so uncomfortable. + +Then, when at last the poor sailor-boy in the story was so full that he +could not take another bite--not even a bite of pancake on which his mother +in her upsetting had sprinkled salt instead of sugar--that poem came to an +end, and by way of a change Aunt Jeanne plunged headlong into-- + + "Ma Tante est une menagere + Coum je cre qu'i gn'y'en a pouit"-- + +hitting off in another twenty long verses the strong and weak points of an +old and very managing Auntie, not unlike herself in her good points, and +very unlike her in her bad ones. And we joyfully pointed them all back at +the managing Auntie in front of us, good and bad points alike, and laughed +ourselves almost black in the face at the most telling strokes; all except +young Torode, who laughed, indeed, but not heartily like the rest,--rather +as though he thought us an uncommonly childish set of people for our ages. +And so we were that night, and enjoyed ourselves mightily. + +Then young Torode sang "Jean Grain d'orge," in a fine big voice, and +Carette sang "Nico v'nait m' faire l'amour," in a very sweet one, and I was +sorely troubled that I had never learned to sing. + +Then to dancing again, and it was only then, as I leaned against the +door-post watching Carette go round and round with young Torode, in a way +that I could not help but feel was smoother and neater than when my arm was +round her, that a chance word between two girls sitting near me startled me +into the knowledge that I had been guilty of another foolishness, and had +overlooked another most important matter that night. You see, I had been in +a flutter ever since I reached home, and one cannot think of everything. + +"Oh, Father Guille has promised him his horse, and so--" said the girl, +between giggles and whispers, and it hit me like a stone to think how +stupid I had been. And after a moment's thought I slipped away and ran +quickly down the lane to La Vauroque, calling myself all manner of names +through my teeth, and thumped lustily on George Hamon's door. + +He was in bed and fast asleep, and it took much thumping before I heard a +sleepy growl in the upper room, and at last the window rattled open and +Uncle George's towsled head came out with a rough-- + +"Eh b'en, below there? What's afire? Can't you let a man--" + +"It's me, Uncle George--Phil Carre. I'm sorry--" + +"Phil!... Bon dou! Phil come back alive!" in a tone of very great surprise. +And then very sternly-- + +"Tiens donc, you down there! You're not a ghost, are you?" + +"Not a bit of a ghost, Uncle George. I got home this evening. I'm up at +Jeanne Falla's party at Beaumanoir, and I've only just remembered that I +haven't got a horse for to-morrow." + +"Aw, then--a horse for to-morrow! Yes--of course!" and he began to gurgle +inside, though bits of it would come out--"A horse! Of course you want a +horse! And who--?" + +"Can you let me have Black Boy--if you've got him yet?" + +"I'll come down, mon gars. Wait you one minute;" and very soon the door +opened, and he dragged me in, gripping my hand as if it were a rudder in a +gale, so that it ached for an hour after. + +"And you're all safe and sound, mon gars?--" + +"As safe and sound as Sercq, Uncle George. Can you let me have Black Boy?" + +"Pergui! But it's a happy woman your mother will be this night. She never +would give you up, Phil. It's just wonderful--" + +"'Tis, sure! Can you spare me Black Boy?" + +"Aw now, my dear, but I'm sorry! You see, I'd no idea of you coming, and +the young Torode came along this very afternoon and begged me to lend him +Black Boy, and I promised, not knowing--But there's Gray Robin. You can +have him. He's a bit heavy, maybe, but he's safe as a cart, and Black Boy's +got more than a bit of the devil in him still. Will you be crossing the +Coupee?" + +"I suppose so." + +"Well, take my advice, and get down and lead over. It's more than a bit +crumbly in places. I've made young Torode promise not to ride Black Boy +across." + +"All right! When can I have Gray Robin?" + +"Now if you like." + +"I'll be back at four. May I have some of your roses, Uncle George?" + +"All of them, if you like, mon gars. Bon dou, but I'm glad to see you home +again!" + +"I'd like a few to trim Robin up with." + +"I'll see to it. It's good to see you back, Phil. Your mother didn't say +much, but she was sore at heart, _I_ know, though she did put a bold face +on it." + +"I know.... You won't mind my running away now, Uncle George? You see--" + +"Aw, I know! Gallop away back, my boy. And--say, Phil, mon gars,--don't let +that young cub from Herm get ahead of you. He's been making fine play while +you've been away." And I waved my hand and sped back to the merrymaking. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +HOW WE RODE GRAY ROBIN + + +It was close upon the dawn before Jeanne Falla's party broke up, and as I +jogged soberly down the lane from La Vauroque on Gray Robin, I met the +jovial ones all streaming homewards. + +A moment before, the quiet gray lane, with its fern-covered banks and +hedges of roses and honeysuckle all asleep and drenched with dew, was all +in keeping with my spirits, which were gray also, partly with the weariness +of such unaccustomed merriment, and still more at thought of my various +stupidities. + +They all gathered round me and broke out into fresh laughter. + +"Ma fe, Phil, but you're going to make a day of it! We wondered where you'd +got to." + +"Bon dou donc, you're in your pontificals, mon gars!" + +"Is it a bank of roses you're riding, then?" and Gray Robin hotched +uncomfortably though still half asleep. + +"The early bird gets the nicest worm. Keep ahead of the Frenchman, Phil, +and good luck to you!" + +"Good luck to you all!" and their laughing voices died away along the +lanes, and I woke up Gray Robin and went on to Beaumanoir. + +I hitched the bridle over the gatepost, and lighted my pipe, and strolled +to and fro with my hands deep in the pockets of my grandfather's best blue +pilot-cloth jacket, for there was a chill in the air as though the night +must die outright before the new day came. + +Now, sunrise is small novelty to a sailorman. But there is a mighty +difference between watching it across the welter of tumbling waves from the +sloppy deck of a ship, and watching it from the top of the knoll outside +Beaumanoir, with Carette fast asleep behind the white curtains of the gray +stone house there. + +Little matter that it might be hours before she came--since Jeanne Falla +knew that rest was as necessary to a girl as food, if she was to keep her +health and good looks. I could wait all day for Carette if needs be, and +Gray Robin was already fast asleep on three legs, with the fourth crooked +comfortably beneath him. + +I can live that morning over again, though the years have passed. + +... All the west was dark and dim. The sea was the colour of lead. Brecqhou +was a long black shadow. Herm and Jethou were darker spots on the dimness +beyond, and Guernsey was not to be seen. The sky up above me was thin and +vague. But away in the east over France, behind long banks of soft dark +cloud, it was thinner and rarer still, and seemed to throb with a little +pulse of life. And behind the white curtains in the gray stone house, +Carette lay sleeping. + +... At midnight the girls had melted lead in an iron spoon, and dropped it +into buckets of water, amid bubbles of laughter, to see what the +occupations of their future husbands would be. They fished out the results +with eager faces, and twisted them to suit their hopes. Carette's piece +came out a something which Jeanne Falla at once pronounced an anchor, but +which young Torode said was a sword, and made it so by a skilful touch of +the finger. + +... The air had been very still, as though asleep like all things else +except the sea. And the sea still lay like lead out there, but I began to +catch the gleam of white teeth along the sides of Brecqhou, and down below +in Havre Gosselin I could hear the long waves growling among the rocks. And +now there came a stir in the air like the waking breaths of a sleeper. The +shadows behind Herm and Jethou thickened and darkened. The little throb of +life behind the banks of cloud in the east quickened and grew. The sky +there looked thin and bright and empty, as if it had been swept bare and +cleansed for that which was to come. Up above me soft little gray clouds +showed suddenly, all touched with pink on their eastern sides, while the +sky behind them warmed with a faint dun glow. A cock in the Beaumanoir yard +woke suddenly and crowed, and the challenge was answered from La Vauroque. +Jeanne Falla's pigs grunted sleepily at the disturbance. The pigeons +rumbled in their cote, and the birds began to twitter in the trees about +the house. And behind the white curtains there, Carette lay sleeping. + +... I had asked her, the first chance that offered, after I got back from +seeing George Hamon. We were spinning round in a double quickstep which +tried even Uncle Nico's seasoned arm. + +"Carette," I whispered into the little pink shell of an ear, so near my +lips that it was hard to keep from kissing it, "will you ride with me +to-morrow?" and my heart went faster than my feet and set me tumbling over +them. For Midsummer Day is Riding Day in Sercq, and he who asks a maid to +share his horse that day is understood to desire her company on a longer +journey still, and her consent to the one is generally taken to mean that +she agrees to the other as well. So my little question held a mighty +meaning, and no wonder my heart went quicker than my feet and set me +stumbling over them as I waited for her answer. + +"Not to-morrow, Phil," she whispered, and my heart stood still. Then it +went on its way like a wave out of the west, when she murmured, "It's +to-day we ride, not to-morrow," meaning that we had danced the night out. + +"Then you will, Carette? You will?" + +"You're late in the day, you know," she said, teasing still, as maids will +when they know a man's heart is under their feet. + +"But I only got home this evening--" + +"Monsieur Torode asked me hours ago." + +"But you haven't promised him, Carette?" and I felt as though all my life +depended on her answer. + +"I said I'd see. But--" + +"Then you'll come with me, Carette," and I felt like kissing her there +before them all. + +"I'll tell you what I'll do, Phil. I'll go with one of you and come back +with the other." + +"But--Carette!--" + +"You should not have left it so late, you see." + +And with that I had to be content, though it was not at all to my mind, +since I had looked for more. + +... The eastern sky was filled to overflowing with pure thin light. The +edges of the long dark banks of cloud that lay in front of it were rimmed +with crimson fire. And from every quarter where the shadows lay gray clouds +streamed up to greet the sun. They crept up the heavens, slow and gray and +heavy, but as they climbed they lightened. They changed from gray to white. +Their fronts were touched with the crimson fire. They spread wide wings and +set me thinking of angels worshipping, and all the waiting clouds below +threw out long streamers towards the day, like soft white arms in prayer. +And behind the white curtains there, Carette lay sleeping. + +... Gray Robin fell suddenly off one leg on to the other in his sleep, and +woke with a discontented snuffle. Down in Havre Gosselin the seagulls were +calling, "Miawk, miawk, miawk, miawk, miawk,--mink, mink, mink, +mink,--kawk, kawk, kawk, kawk,--keo, keo, keo, keo, keo." + +... The sky up above was thin and blue. The soft white clouds were like a +mackerel's back, and every scale was rimmed with red gold. The east was all +a-throb. The long bands of cloud were silver above and glowing gold below. +The sun rose in a silence that seemed to me wonderful. If all the world had +broken out into the song that filled my heart it would have seemed but +right. Every cloud in all the sky seemed to bow in homage before him. + +I had seen many and many a sunrise, but never before one like this. For +there, behind the curtains, Carette lay sleeping. And I was waiting for +her. And it was Riding Day, and she was going to ride with me on Gray +Robin. + +And gay beyond his wont or knowledge was Gray Robin that day, though I +think myself he had his own suspicions of it even in his dreams. For when +he got fully awake, and took to looking at himself, and found out by +degrees how very fine he was, he felt shy and awkward, and shook himself so +vigorously that bits of his finery fell off. For, you see, Uncle George, +knowing what was right and proper under the circumstances, and throwing +himself into the matter because it was for me, had brought all his skill +into play. He had fished out a length of old net from his stores, and +turned it to great account. He had draped it in folds over Gray Robin's +broad flanks, and brought it round his chest, and wherever the threads +would hold a stem he had stuck in red and white and yellow roses, and had +tied bunches of them at his ears and along his bridle, so that the steady +old horse looked like an ancient charger in his armour. + +And as I watched him examining into all these things I could see his wonder +grow, and he asked himself what, in the name of Hay, his friends and +acquaintances would think of it all when they saw him, and he snuffled with +disgust. + +It was close upon six o'clock when Gray Robin pricked up his ears at sound +of hoofs in the lane between the high hedges, and young Torode rode up on +Black Boy. He drew rein sharply at sight of me, and a curse jerked out of +him. And at sight of Gray Robin in his gay trappings, Black Boy danced on +his hind legs and pretended to be frightened out of his wits. + +Torode brought him to reason with a violent hand, and flung himself off +with a black face. + +"How then, Carre?" he broke out. "Mademoiselle promised to ride with me +to-day." + +"And with me also. So she said she would ride half the day with each of +us." + +"But, nom-de-dieu, what is the good of that? There is no sense in it." + +"It is her wish." + +He flogged a gorse bush angrily with a switch he had cut for Black Boy's +benefit, and looked more than half inclined to fling himself back on to his +horse and ride away, which would have been quite to my taste. Black Boy +watched him viciously, with white gleams in his eyes, and winced at sound +of the switch. + +But before Torode had made up his mind, Jeanne Falla's sharp voice called +from the gate, "Now then, you two, the coffee's getting cold. Come in and +eat while you have the chance." + +Coffee never tastes so good as just after morning watch, and I turned in at +once, while young Torode proceeded to make sure that Black Boy should not +make off while he was inside. + +Aunt Jeanne's brown old face creased up into something like a very large +wink as we went up the path, and she said softly, "First pig in trough gets +first bite. You'll enjoy a cup of coffee at all events, mon gars. Seems to +me there are two Black Boys out there, n'es c' pas?" + +And if such coffee as Jeanne Falla made, with milk warm from the cow, could +have been curdled by sour looks, young Torode had surely not found his cup +to his liking. + +His ill-humour was not simply ill-concealed, it was barely kept within +bounds, and was, to say the least of it, but poor return for Aunt Jeanne's +double hospitality. But Aunt Jeanne, far from resenting it, seemed +actually to enjoy the sight, and as a matter of fact, I believe she was +hoping eagerly that Carette would come down in time to partake of it also. + +She chatted gaily about her party, and plumed herself on its success. + +"We did it all our own two selves, the little one and I. Nothing like +washing your own shirt, if you want it well done," brimmed she. + +"It couldn't have been better, Aunt Jeanne. And as for the gache--it was +simply delicious." + +"Crais b'en! If there's one thing I can do, it's make gache. And it's not +all finished yet," and she went to the press and brought out a cake like a +cartwheel, and cut it into spokes. + +"There are not many things you can't do, it seems to me, Aunt Jeanne," I +said. "That cider was uncommonly good too." + +"Ma fe, when you've learned to make cider for the Guernsey men you can make +it for most folks, I trow.... It's a tired man you'll be to-night, Phil, +mon gars. We were just turning in, the little one and I, when we heard a +horse snuffle outside, and nothing would satisfy her but she must up and +peep out of the window, and she said, 'Why, there's Phil Carre standing on +the knoll. Mon Gyu, what does he want there at this time of day?' And I +said, 'Come away into bed, child, and don't catch your death of cold. +You're half asleep and dreaming. There's no one out there.' 'Yes, there +is,' said she, 'and it's Phil Carre. I know his shape.' But I was sleepy, +and I said, 'Well, he'll keep till morning anyway, and if you don't get +some sleep you'll look like a boiled owl, and there'll be no riding for +you, miss, Phil Carre or no Phil Carre.'" All of which was gall and +wormwood to young Torode, as Jeanne Falla quite well knew and intended. + +And presently Carette came down, looking like a half-opened rose after a +stormy night, and with just as much energy in her as might be expected in a +girl who had danced miles of quicksteps but a few hours before, and at a +pace which Uncle Nico's arm had not forgotten yet. + +There was to me something almost sacred in the look of her with the maiden +sleep still in her eyes, which set her apart from us and above us, and I +could have sat and looked at her for a long time, and required no more. + +She was all in white again, and Aunt Jeanne, when she had given her coffee +and a slice of gache, and had coaxed her to eat, slipped out into the +garden, and came back presently with an apronful of red roses, all wet with +dew, and proceeded to pin them round her hat, and on her shoulder, and at +her breast, and in her waistband. + +"V'la!" said the dear old soul, standing off and eyeing her handiwork with +her head on one side, like a robin. "There's not another in the Island will +come within a mile of you, ma garche!" and it was easy to see the love that +lay deep in the sharp old eyes. + +We had hardly spoken a word since Carette came down, beyond wishing her +good-day, and she herself seemed in no humour for talk. And for myself, I +know I felt very common clay beside her, and I would, as I have said, been +well content simply to sit and watch her. + +Aunt Jeanne continued to talk of the party, a subject that would not fail +her for many a week to come, for those sharp eyes of hers saw more than +most people's, and she never forgot what they told her. + +It was only when Carette had finished her pretence of eating, and it was +time to be starting, that young Torode asked politely, "With whom do you +ride first, mademoiselle,--since we are two?" + +And Carette said sweetly, "Since Phil was here first I will ride first with +him, monsieur, and afterwards with you." + +"Do you cross the Coupee?" asked Aunt Jeanne anxiously. + +"But, of course!" said Torode. "That is where the fun comes in." + +"Bon Gyu, but that kind of fun does not please me! Some of you will find +yourselves at the bottom some day, and that will end the riding in Sercq." + +"It's safe enough if you have a firm hand--that is, if you know how to ride +at all,"--a shot aimed at me, but which failed to wound. + +"I don't like it," said Aunt Jeanne again, with a foreboding shake of the +head and a meaning look at me. + +"Well, we won't be the first to cross," I said, to satisfy her. "We'll see +how the others get on, and no harm shall come to Carette, I promise you." + +Gray Robin was dozing again, but I woke him up with a poke, and climbed up +on to his broad back with as little damage to his rose-armour as I could +manage, and Aunt Jeanne carried out a chair, so that Carette could get up +behind me without disarranging herself. + +And a happy man was I when the soft arms clasped me firmly round the waist, +although I knew well enough that it was the correct thing for them to do, +and that there was nothing more in it than a strong desire on the rear +rider's part not to fall off. But for that troublesome young Torode, and +all that was implied in the fact that Carette's arms would be round him on +the homeward journey, I would have been the happiest man in Sercq that day. +As it was, it was in my mind to make the most of my half of it. + +Young Torode sprang on Black Boy with a leap that put our more cautious +methods very much, into the shade, and also stirred up all Black Boy's +never-too-well-concealed evil temper. A horse of spirit ever objects to the +double burden of man and man's master, and, through thigh and heel and +hand, he can tell in the most wonderful fashion if the devil's aboard as +well. + +We left them settling their little differences and jogged away down the +lane, and the last we saw of Aunt Jeanne she was leaning over the gate, +looking hopefully at the fight before her. But presently we heard the quick +beat of hoofs behind, and they went past us with a rush--Black Boy's chin +drawn tight to his chest, which was splashed with white foam flecks, his +neck like a bow, and the wicked white of his port eye glaring back at us +like a danger signal. + +"Monsieur Torode has got his hands full, I think," I said. + +"And Monsieur Black Boy carries more than he likes." + +"I'm glad you're not on board there, Carette." + +"I think I am too--just now," she laughed quietly. + +We took the north road at La Vauroque, where we came on George Hamon, +gazing gloomily after Black Boy and his rider, who were flying along the +road to Colinette, and judging from his face there was a curse on his lips +as he turned to us, which was very unusual with him. He brightened, +however, when he saw us. + +"B'en! That's all right," he said very heartily. "Gray Robin is a proud +horse this day, ma'm'zelle, with the prettiest maid in the Island on his +back--and the best man," he added meaningly. "I'm just hoping that crazy +Frenchman will bring my Black Boy back all safe and sound. He's got more +than a bit of the devil in him at times--the horse, I mean. The other, too, +maybe. And he's more used to harness than the saddle. However--luck to +you!" + +He waved his hand, and we jogged on past the Cemetery, and so by La +Rondellerie and La Moinerie, where the holy Maglorius once lived--as you +may see by the ruins of his house and the cells of his disciples--to +Belfontaine, where my mother came out with full eyes to give us greeting. + +And to prevent any mistake which might put Carette to confusion, I did my +clumsy best to make a joke of the matter. + +"Your stupid was nearly too late, mother, and so Carette rides out with me +and back with Monsieur Torode." + +"Under the circumstances it was good of Carette to give you a share, mon +gars." + +"Oh, I'm grateful. One's sheaf is never quite as one would have it, and one +takes the good that comes." + +"How glad you must have been to see him back, Mrs. Carre!" said Carette. +"You never gave him up, I know." + +"No, I never gave him up," said my mother quietly. + +"I think he ought to have stopped with you all day to-day," said Carette. +"I feel as if I were stealing him." + +"Only borrowing," smiled my mother. "It is good to be young, and the young +have their rights as well as the old. Good luck to you and a fine ride!" +and I shook up Gray Robin, and we went on. + +"Be very careful if you cross the Coupee, Phil," she called after us. +"There was a fall there the other day, your grandfather was saying, and the +path has not been mended yet." + +I waved my hand, and we went on. From a distant field, where they were busy +with their hay, my grandfather and Krok saw us passing along the road, and +straightened up and shaded their eyes with their hands, and then waved us +heaps of good luck, and we jogged on along the road to the Eperquerie. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +HOW YOUNG TORODE TOOK THE DEVIL OUT OF BLACK BOY + + +It was a day of days--a perfect Midsummer Day. The sky was blue without a +cloud, the blaze of the gorse was dimming, but the ferns and foxgloves +swung in the breeze, the hedgerows laughed with wild roses and honeysuckle, +and the air was full of life and sweetness and the songs of larks and the +homely humming of bees. And here was I come back from the Florida swamps +and all the perils of the seas, jogging quietly along on that moving +nosegay Gray Robin, with the arms of the fairest maid in all Sercq round my +waist, and the brim of her hat tickling my neck, and her face so close to +my shoulder that it was hard work not to turn and kiss it. + +My mind was, set to make the most of my good fortune, but the thought of +young Torode, and of Carette riding back with him, kept coming upon me like +an east wind on a sunny day, and I found myself more tongue-tied than ever +I had been with her before, even of late years. + +Did she care for this man? Had his good looks, which I could not deny, cast +dust in her eyes? Could she be blind to his black humours, which, to me, +were more visible even than his good looks? + +From what Aunt Jeanne had said, he was by way of being very well off. And +perhaps the results of the Miss Maugers' teachings would incline a girl to +consider such things. I thought they probably would. I know they made me +feel shy and awkward before her, though I told myself furiously that all +that was only a matter of outside polish, and that inside I was as worthy +of her as any, and loved her as none other could. But the outside she could +see, and the inside she could not, and I could not yet tell her, though I +could not but think she must know. + +And then, what had I to offer her in place of Torode's solid advantages? +Just myself, and all my heart, and two strong arms. They were good things, +and no one in the world could love her as I did. But, to a girl brought up +as she had been of late, would they be enough? And would these things +satisfy her father, who had always been much of a mystery to us all, and +who might have his own views as to her future, as the education he had +given her seemed to indicate? + +I had plenty to think about as we jogged along on Gray Robin, and Carette +was thoughtful too. + +Now and again, indeed, the clinging arms would give me a convulsive hug +which set my blood jumping, but that was only when Gray Robin stumbled, and +it meant nothing more than a fear of falling overboard on her part, and I +could not build on it. + +We chatted, by snatches, of the party and of things that had happened in my +absence. But of the sweet whispers and little confidences which should set +all riders on Riding Day above all the rest of the world, there were none +between us, and at times we fell to silence and a touch of constraint. + +On Eperquerie Common I got down, and led Gray Robin cautiously over the +long green slopes among the cushions of gorse and the waist-high ferns, and +down the rocky way to the knoll above the landing-place. And as we sat on +the soft turf among the empty shells, looking out over the long line of +weather-bitten headlands and tumbled rocks, with the blue sea creaming at +their feet, I suppose I must have heaved a sigh, for Carette laughed and +said-- + +"Ma fe, but you are lively to-day, Phil." + +"I'm sorry," I said. "I was thinking of the old times when we used to +scramble about here as merry as the rock pipits. They were very happy days, +Carette." + +"Yes," she nodded, "they were happy days. But we've grown since then." + +"One can't help growing, but I don't know that it makes one any happier." + +"Tell me all you did out there," she said, and I lay in the sunshine and +told her of our shipwreck, and of the Florida swamps, and of the great city +of London through which I had come on my way home. And then, somehow, our +talk was of the terrible doings in France, not so very many years before, +of which she had never heard much and I only of late. It was probably the +blue line of coast on the horizon which set us to that, and perhaps +something of a desire on my part to show her that, if she had been learning +things at the Miss Maugers, I also had been learning in the greater world +outside. + +It was very different from the talk that usually passes between riders on +Riding Day. For every horse that day is supposed to carry three, though one +of them nestles so close between the others that only bits of him may be +seen at times in their eyes and faces. + +But it was all no use. With young Torode in my mind, and Jean Le Marchant's +probable intentions respecting Carette, and Carette's own wonderful growth +which seemed to put us on different levels, and the smallness of my own +prospects,--I could not bring myself to venture any loverly talk, though my +heart was full of loving thoughts and growing intention. + +I had been telling her of the doings in Paris, and in Nantes and elsewhere, +and she had been dreadfully interested in it all, when suddenly she jumped +up with a sharp-- + +"Phil, you are horrid to-day. I believe you have been telling me all these +things just because Monsieur Torode is a Frenchman." + +"Torode?--Pardie, I had forgotten Torode for the moment! He is too young to +have had any hand in those doings, anyway." + +"All the same he is a Frenchman, and it was Frenchmen who did them." + +"And you think I was hitting at him behind his back! It is not behind his +back I will hit him if needs be and the time comes. But I had no thought of +him, Carette. These are things I heard but lately, and I thought they might +be of interest to you. Did you ever know me strike a foul blow, Carette?" I +asked hotly. + +"No, never! I was wrong, Phil. Let us ride again and forget the heads +tumbling into the baskets and those horrid women knitting and singing." + +So we climbed the rocky way, and then I got Gray Robin alongside a rock, +and we mounted without much loss and went our way down the lanes in +somewhat better case. For I was still somewhat warm at her thinking so ill +of me, and she, perceiving it, did her best to make me forget it all. + +And now we began to meet other merry riders, and their outspoken, but +mistaken, congratulations testified plainly to the Island feeling in favour +of Island maids mating with Island men, and perhaps made Carette regret her +Solomon-like decision of the night before. It made me feel somewhat foolish +also, at thought of what they would say when they saw her riding back with +young Torode. + +A cleverer man would, no doubt, have turned it all to account, but I could +not. All I could do was to carry it off as coolly as possible to save +Carette annoyance, and to affect a lightness and joviality which were +really not in me. + +And some of these meetings were full of surprise for Carette, but mostly +they only confirmed her expectations. For girls have sharp eyes in such +matters and generally know how things are going, and I have no doubt she +and Aunt Jeanne talked them over together. And there was not much went on +in Sercq without Aunt Jeanne knowing all about it. + +And so it would be-- + +"Who is this, then? Elie Guerin and--ma fe--Judith Drillot! Now that's odd, +for I always thought--" + +"Perhaps they're Only pretending," I murmured, and Carette kicked her +little heels into Gray Robin's ribs so hard that she nearly fell off at his +astonished jump. + +"B'jou, Judi! B'jou, Elie! Good luck to you!" she cried, as they drew rein +alongside, their faces radiant with smiles both for themselves and for us. + +"Now, mon Gyu, but I am glad to see you again, Phil Carre, and to see you +two together!" said Elie, with the overflowing heartiness of a +fully-satisfied man. + +"Oh, we're only just taking a ride to see how other folks are getting on," +I said. "Carette exchanges me for Monsieur Torode later on. You see I only +got home last night and he had asked her already." + +"Mon Gyu!" gasped Judi, and we waved our hands and rode on, leaving them +gaping. + +Then it would be-- + +"Mon Gyu! _That's_ all right! Here are Charles Hamon and Nancy Godfray come +together at last. And high time too! They've been beating about the bush +till we're all tired of watching them. B'jou, Nancy! B'jou, Charles! All +joy to you!" + +There were many such meetings, for we could see the riders' heads bobbing +in every lane. And twice we met young Torode, galloping at speed, and +showing to great advantage on Black Boy, whose ruffled black coat was +streaked with sweat and splashed with foam, and who was evidently not +enjoying himself at all. + +"I'm getting the devil out of him so that he'll be all quiet for the +afternoon," cried Torode, as he sped past us one time. And Gray Robin tried +to look after his mate, and jogged comfortably along thanking his stars +that if he did feel somewhat of a fool, he had decent quiet folk on his +back, and was not as badly off as some he knew that day. + +So we came along the horse tracks down by Pointe Robert and crossed the +head of the Harbour Road, past Derrible, and heard the sea growling at the +bottom of the Creux, and then over Hog's Back into Dixcart Valley, and so, +about noon, into the road over the Common which led to the Coupee. + +Most of our friends were already there,--some on this side waiting to +cross, the more venturesome sitting in the heather and bracken on the +farther side, with jokes and laughter and ironical invitations to the +laggards to take their courage in their hands and come over. + +There was quite a mob in the roadway on the Common, the girls sitting on +their horses, most of the men on foot. + +"How is the path?" I asked, as I got down for a look. + +"I've seen it better and I've seen it worse," said Charles Vaudin. "But, +all the same, you know,--on horseback--" and he shook his head doubtfully. + +"When it's only your own feet you have to look after it's right enough," +said Elie Guerin. "But when it's a horse's and they're four feet apart it's +a different kind of game. I'm going to lead over, let those others say what +they will. Will you walk, Judi, or will you ride? I can lead the old boy +all right." + +"I can trust you, mon gars," said the girl, and kept her seat while Elie +led the horse slowly and cautiously over the narrow way, with possible +death in every foot of it. And all the rest watched anxiously. + +The path was at this time about four feet wide in most places, crumbly and +weather-worn here and there, but safe enough for ordinary foot traffic. But +even so--without a rail on either side, with the blue sea foaming and +chafing among the rocks three hundred feet below, and horribly visible on +both sides at once--the twisted path when you were on it felt no more than +a swinging thread. + +It was not every head that could stand it, and small blame to those that +could not. + +Here and there, in the three hundred feet stretch, great rock pinnacles +stood out from the precipitous depths and overshadowed the path, and +encouraged the wayfarer by offering him posts of vantage to be attained one +by one. But they were far apart, and at best it was an awesome place even +on foot, while with a horse the dangers were as plain as the path itself. + +Still it was a point of honour to cross the Coupee on Riding Day, and some +even compassed it cautiously without dismounting, and took much credit to +themselves, though others might call it by other names. + +Some of the girls preferred to take no risks, and got down and walked +wisely and safely, amid the laughter and good-humoured banter of the elect, +across the gulf. Most, however, showed their confidence in their swains, +and at the same time trebled their anxieties, by keeping their seats and +allowing their horses to be led across. + +Young Torode came galloping across the Common while Gray Robin and Carette +and I were still waiting our turn. He reined in Black Boy with a firm hand, +and the ruffled black sides worked like bellows, and the angry black head +jerked restively, and the quick-glancing eyes looked troubled and vicious. + +Torode laughed derisively as Elie Guerin set out with cautious step to lead +his old horse over, with Judith Drillot clutching the saddle firmly and +wearing a face that showed plainly that it was only a stern sense of duty +to Elie that kept her up aloft. + +"Ma foi!" laughed Torode. "He would do it better in a boat. It's well seen +that Monsieur Guerin was not born to the saddle. Has no one ridden across +yet?" + +"But yes,--Helier Godfray rode over all right. All the same--" said one, +with a shrug and shake of the head. + +"It's as easy as any other road if you've got a steady head and a firm +hand," said Torode. + +"Will you ride, Carette, or walk?" I asked. "I shall lead Gray Robin." + +She looked down into my eyes for one moment, and I looked up into hers. She +did not like the Coupee, I knew, but she would not put me to shame. + +"I will ride," she said. + +"You're never going to lead across, Carre?" cried Torode. "And with a horse +like a Dutch galliot! Man alive! let me take him over for you!--Shall I?" +and he bustled forward, looking eagerly up at Carette. + +"Stand back!" I said brusquely. "You'll have quite enough to do to take +yourself across, I should say," and we were off. + +"I'll bring you back on Black Boy," cried Torode consolingly to Carette. + +Gray Robin's mild eyes glanced apprehensively into the depths as we went +slowly over, and his ears and nostrils twitched to and fro at the growl of +the surf down below on either side. I held him firmly by the head and +soothed him with encouraging words. The old horse snuffled between +gratitude and disgust, and Carette clung tightly up above, and vowed that +she would not cross on Black Boy whatever Torode might say. + +She was devoutly thankful, I could see, when Gray Robin stepped safely onto +the spreading bulk of Little Sercq. I lifted her down, and loosed the old +horse's bit and set him free for a crop among the sweet short grasses of +the hillside, while we sat down with the rest to watch the others come +over. + +Caution was the order of the day. Most of the girls kept their seats and +braved the passage in token of confidence in their convoys. Some risked all +but accident by meekly footing it, and accepted the ironical +congratulations on the other side as best they might. + +Young Torode had waited his turn with impatience. He and Black Boy were on +such terms that the latter would have made a bolt for home if the grasp on +his bridle had relaxed for one moment. Again and again his restlessness had +suffered angry check which served only to increase it. Neither horse nor +rider was in any state for so critical a passage as the one before them. +There was no community of feeling between them, except of dislike, and the +backbone of a common enterprise is mutual trust and good feeling. + +To do him that much justice, Torode must have known that under the +circumstances he was taking unusual risk. But he had confidence in his own +skill and mastery, and no power on earth would have deterred him from the +attempt. + +He leaped on Black Boy, turned him from the gulf and rode him up the +Common. Then he turned again and came down at a hand gallop, and reaped his +reward in the startled cries and anxious eyes of the onlookers. The safe +sitters in the heather on the farther side sprang up to watch, and held +their breath. + +"The fool!" slipped through more clenched teeth than mine. + +The stones from Black Boy's heels went rattling down into the depths on +either side. The first pinnacles were gained in safety. Just beyond them +the path twisted to the right. Black Boy's stride had carried him too near +the left-hand pillar. An angry jerk of the reins emphasised his mistake. He +resented it, as he had resented much in his treatment that morning already. +His head came round furiously, his heels slipped in the crumbling gravel, +he kicked out wildly for safer holding, and in a moment he was over. + +At the first feel of insecurity behind, Torode slipped deftly out of the +saddle. He still held the reins and endeavoured to drag the poor beast up. +But Black Boy's heels were kicking frantically, now on thin air, now for a +second against an impossible slope of rock which offered no foothold. For a +moment he hung by his forelegs curved in rigid agony, his nostrils wide and +red, his eyes full of frantic appeal, his ears flat to his head, his poor +face pitiful in its desperation. Torode shouted to him, dragged at the +reins--released them just in time. + +Those who saw it never forgot that last look on Black Boy's face, never +lost the rending horror of his scream as his forelegs gave and he sank out +of sight, never forgot the hideous sound of his fall as he rolled down the +cliff to the rocks below. + +The girls hid their faces and sank sobbing into the heather. The men cursed +Torode volubly, and regretted that he had not gone with Black Boy. + +And it was none but black looks that greeted him when, after standing a +moment, he came on across the Coupee and joined the rest. + +"It is a misfortune," he said brusquely, as he came among us. + +"It is sheer murder and brutality," said Charles Vaudin roughly. + +"Guyabble! It's you that ought to be down there, not yon poor brute," said +Guerin. + +"Tuts then! A horse! I'll make him good to Hamon." + +"And, unless I'm mistaken, you promised him not to ride the Coupee," I said +angrily, for I knew how George Hamon would feel about Black Boy. + +"Diable! I believe I did, but I forgot all about it in seeing you others +crawling across. Will you lend me your horse to ride back, Carre? +Mademoiselle rides home with me." + +"Mademoiselle does not, and I won't lend you a hair of him." + +"That was the understanding. Mademoiselle promised." + +"Well, she will break her promise,--with better reason than you had. I +shall see her safely home." + +"Right, Phil! Stick to that!" said the others; and Torode looking round +felt himself in a very small minority, and turned sulkily and walked back +across the Coupee. + +The pleasure of the day was broken. Black Boy's face and scream and fall +were with us still, and presently we all went cautiously back across the +narrow way. And no girl rode, but each one shuddered as she passed the spot +where the loose edge of the cliff was scored with two deep grooves; and we +others, looking down, saw a tumbled black mass lying in the white surf +among the rocks. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +HOW I FELT THE GOLDEN SPUR + + +George Hamon was sorely put out at the loss of his horse and by so cruel a +death. In his anger he laid on young Torode a punishment hard to bear. + +For when the young man offered to pay for Black Boy, Uncle George gave him +the sharpest edge of his tongue in rough Norman French, and turned him out +of his house, and would take nothing from him. + +"You pledged me your word and you broke it," said he, "and you think to +redeem it with money. Get out of this and never speak to me again! We are +honest men in Sercq, and you--you French scum, you don't know what honour +means." And Torode was forced to go with the unpayable debt about his neck, +and the certain knowledge that all Sercq thought with his angry creditor +and ill of himself. And to such a man that was bitterness itself. + +During the ten days that followed Riding Day, my mind was very busy +settling, as it supposed, the future,--mine and Carette's. For, whether she +desired me in hers or not, I had no doubts whatever as to what I wanted +myself. My only doubts were as to the possibilities of winning such a +prize. + +The effect of the Miss Maugers' teaching on Carette herself had been to +lift her above her old companions, and indeed above her apparent station +in life, though on that point my ideas had no solid standing ground. For, +as I have said, the Le Marchants of Brecqhou were more or less of mysteries +to us all, and there had been such upsettings just across the water there, +such upraisings and downcastings, that a man's present state was no +indication of what he might have been. The surer sign was in the man +himself, and much pondering of the matter led me to think that Jean Le +Marchant might well be something more than simply the successful smuggler +he seemed, and that Carette's dainty lady ways might well be the result of +natural growth and not simply of the Miss Maugers' polishing. + +I would not have had it otherwise. I wanted the very best for her; and if +she were by birth a lady, let the lady in her out to the full. Far better +that the best that was in her should out and shine than be battened under +hatches and kept out of sight. Better for herself, if it was her nature; +and better for the rest of us who could look up and admire. For myself, I +would sooner look up than down, and none knew as I did--unless it were +Jeanne Falla--how sweet and generous a nature lay behind the graces that +set her above us. For none had known her as I had, during all those years +of the camaraderie of the coast. + +But, while I wished her every good, I could not close my eyes to several +things, since they pressed me hard. That, for instance, we were no longer +boy and girl together. And that, whereas Carette used to look up to me, now +the looking up was very much the other way. What her feelings might be +towards me, as I say, I could not be sure; for, little as I knew of girls, +I had picked up enough scraps of knowledge to be quite sure in my own mind +that they were strangely unaccountable creatures, and that you could not +judge either them or a good many other things entirely by outside +appearances. And again, it was borne in upon me very strongly, and as never +before, that, where two start fairly level, if one goes ahead, the other +must exert himself or be left behind. Carette was going ahead in marvellous +fashion. I felt myself in danger of being left behind, and that set my +brain to very active working. + +I had a better education, in the truest sense of the word, than most of my +fellows, thanks to my mother and grandfather and Krok and M. Rousselot, the +schoolmaster. That gave me the use of my brains. I had in addition a good +sound body, and I had travelled and seen something of the world. Of worldly +possessions I had just the small savings of my pay and nothing more, and +common-sense told me that if I wanted to win Carette Le Marchant I must be +up and doing, and must turn myself to more profitable account. + +I do not think there was in me any mercenary motive in this matter. I am +quite sure that in so thinking of things I attributed none to Carette. It +seemed to me that if a man wanted a wife he ought to be able to keep her, +and I considered the girl who married a man of precarious livelihood--as I +saw some of them do--very much of a fool. I have since come to know, +however, that that is only one way of looking at it, and that to some women +the wholehearted love of a true man counts for very much more than anything +else he can bring her. + +For money, simply as money, I had no craving whatever. For the wife it +might help me to, and the security and comfort it might bring to her, I +desired it ardently, and my thoughts were much exercised as to how to +arrive at it in sufficiency. I found myself at one of the great cross-roads +of life, where, I suppose, most men find themselves at one time or another. +I knew that much--to me, perhaps, everything--must depend on how I chose +now, and I spent much time wandering in lonely places, and lying among the +gorse cushions or in the short grass of the headlands, thinking of Carette +and trying to see my way to her. + +There were open to us all, in those days, four ways of life--more, maybe, +if one had gone seeking them, but these four right to our hands. + +I could ship again in the trading line,--and some time, a very long way +ahead, I might come to the command of a ship, if I escaped the perils of +the sea till that time came. But I could not see Carette very clearly in +that line of life. + +I could join a King's ship, and go fight the Frenchmen and all the others +who were sometimes on our side and sometimes against us. But I could not +see Carette at all in that line of life. + +I could settle down to the quiet farmer-fisherman life on Sercq, as my +grandfather had done with great contentment. But I was not my grandfather, +and he was one in a thousand, and he had never had to win Carette. + +And, lastly,--I could join my fellows in the smuggling or privateering +lines, in which some of them, especially the Guernsey men, were waxing +mightily fat and prosperous. + +For reasons which I did not then understand, but which I do now, since I +learned about my father, my mother's face was set dead against the +free-trading. And so I came to great consideration of the privateering +business and was drawn to it more and more. The risks were greater, +perhaps, even than on the King's ships, since the privateer hunts alone and +may fall easy prey to larger force. But the returns were also very much +greater, and the life more reasonable, for on the King's ships the +discipline was said to be little short of tyranny at times, and hardly to +be endured by free men. + +When, as the result of long turning over of the matter in my own mind, I +had decided that the way to Carette lay through the privateering, I sought +confirmation of my idea in several likely quarters before broaching it at +home. + +"Ah then, Phil, my boy! Come in and sit down and I'll give you a cup of my +cider," was Aunt Jeanne's greeting, when I dropped in at Beaumanoir a few +days after the party, not without hope of getting a sight of Carette +herself and discussing my new ideas before her. + +"No, she's not here," Aunt Jeanne laughed softly, at my quick look round. +"She's away back to Brecqhou. Two of them came home hurt from their last +trip, and she's gone to take care of them. And now, tell me what you are +going to do about it, mon gars?" she asked briskly, when I had taken a +drink of the cider. + +"About what then, Aunt Jeanne?" + +"Tuts, boy! Am I going blind? What are an old woman's eyes for if not to +watch the goings-on of the young ones? You want our Carette. Of course you +do. And you've taken her for granted ever since you were so high. Now +here's a word of wisdom for you, mon gars. No girl likes to be taken for +granted after she's, say, fourteen,--unless, ma fe, she's as ugly as sin. +If she's a beauty, as our Carette is, she knows it, and she's not going to +drop into any man's mouth like a ripe fig. Mon Gyu, no!"--with a crisp +nod. + +"It's true, every word of it," I said, knowing quite well that those clever +old brown eyes of hers could bore holes in me and read me like a book. +"Just you tell me what to do, Aunt Jeanne, and I'll do it as sure as I sit +here." + +"As sure as you sit there you never will, unless you jump right up and win +her, my boy. That young Torode is no fool, though he is hot-headed enough +and as full of conceit as he can hold. And, pergui, he knows what he +wants." + +"And Carette?" + +Aunt Jeanne's only answer to that was a shrug. She was, as I think I have +said, a very shrewd person. I have since had reason to believe that she +could, if she had chosen, have relieved my mind very considerably, but at +the moment she thought it was the spur I needed, and she was not going to +lessen the effect of what she had said. On the contrary, she applied it +again and twisted it round and round. + +"He's good-looking, you see. That is--in the girls' eyes. Men see +differently. And he's rich, or he will be, though, for me, I would not care +what money a man had if the devil had his claw in it, mon Gyu, no! But +there you are, mon gars. There is he with all that, and here are you with +nothing but just your honest face and your good heart and your two strong +arms. And what I want to know is--what are you going to do about it?" + +"What would you do if you were me, Aunt Jeanne?" + +"Ah, now we talk sense. What would I do? Ma fe, I would put myself in the +way of making something, so that I'd feel confidence in asking her." + +"That's just it. I can't ask her till I'm in some position to do so. I've +been thinking all round it--." + +"B'en? + +"I could go trading again--." + +"And get drowned, maybe, before you've made enough to pay for a decent +funeral," snorted Aunt Jeanne contemptuously. + +"I could go on a King's ship" + +"And get bullied to death for nothing a day." + +"The free-trading my mother won't hear of." + +"Crais b'en!" + +"Why, I don't know--." + +"Never mind why. She has her reasons without doubt." + +"So there's nothing for it but the privateering." + +"B'en! Why couldn't you say so without boxing the compass, mon gars? +Privateering is the biggest chance nowadays. Of course, the risks--." + +"That's nothing if it brings me to Carette, Aunt Jeanne--." + +"Well, then?" + +"I wish you'd tell me something." + +"What, then?" she asked warily. + +"I get a bit afraid sometimes that Carette is not intended for a plain +common Sercqman. Has M. Le Marchant views--" + +"Shouldn't be a bit surprised, mon gars. I know I would have if she were +mine. But, all the same, it is Carette herself will have the final say in +the matter, and meanwhile--well, the more she learns the better. Isn't it +so?" + +"Surely. The more one learns the better, unless--" + +"Yes, then?" + +"Well, unless it makes one look down on one's friends." + +"Do you look down on your mother? And do you look down on me? Yet I'll be +bound you think you know a sight more than both of us put together." + +"No, I don't. But--" + +"And yet you've had more learning than ever came our way." + +"Of a kind. But--" + +"Exactly, mon gars! And that other is the learning that doesn't come from +books. And all your learning and Carette's will only prepare you for these +other things. With all your learning you are only babies yet. The harder +tasks are all before you." + +"And you think I may hope for Carette, Aunt Jeanne?" + +"If you win her. But you'll have to stir yourself, mon gars." + +"I've sometimes wondered--" I began doubtfully, and stopped, not knowing +how she might take my questioning. + +"Well, what have you wondered?" and she peered at me with her head on one +side like a robin's. + +"Well--you see--she is so different from the others over there on +Brecqhou." + +"Roses grow among thorns." + +"Yes, I know--" + +"Very well!... All the same, you are right, mon gars. She is +different--and with reason. Her mother was well-born. She was daughter to +old Godefroi of St. Heliers, the shipowner. Jean was sailing one of his +ships. It was not a good match nor a suitable one. The old man turned them +out, and Jean came here with her and his boys and settled on Brecqhou. It +is as well you should know, for it may come into the account. Jean would +make her into a lady like her mother. For me, I would like to see her an +honest man's wife--that is, if he's able to keep her." + +"I'm for the privateering," I said, jumping up as briskly as if I'd only to +walk aboard. + +"I'll wish you luck and pray for it, my boy." + +"That should help. Good-bye, Aunt Jeanne!" + +My mind was quite made up, but, all the same, I went to George Hamon to ask +his advice and help in the matter, as I always had done in all kinds of +matters, and never failed to get them. I found him strolling among his +cabbages with his pipe in his mouth. + +"Uncle George, I want your advice," I began, and he smiled knowingly. + +"Aw! I know you, mon gars. You've made up your mind about something and you +want me to help you get over your mother and grandfather. Isn't that about +it? And what is it now?" + +"I want to be up and doing and making something--" + +"I understand." + +"And privateering seems the best thing going. I want to try that. What do +you say?" + +"Some have done mightily well at it--" + +"You see," I said eagerly, "there is only that or the free-trading, or the +West Indies again, or a King's ship--" + +He nodded understandingly. + +"And none of them hold any very big chances--except the free-trading. And +there--" + +"I know! Your mother won't hear of it. She has her reasons, my boy, and you +can leave it at that ... She won't like the privateering either, you know, +Phil," he said doubtfully, as though he did not care over much for the job +he was being dragged into. + +"I'm afraid she won't, Uncle George. That's why--" + +"That's why you come to me," he smiled. + +"That's it. You see, I've got to be up and doing, because--" + +"I know," he nodded. "Well, come along, and let's get it over," and we went +across the fields to Belfontaine. + +My mother met us at the door, and it was borne in upon me suddenly that as +a girl she must have been very good-looking. There was more colour than +usual in her face, and the quiet eyes shone brightly. I thought she guessed +we had come on some business opposed to her peace of mind, but I have since +known that there were deeper reasons. + +"You are welcome, George Hamon," she said. "What mischief are you and Phil +plotting now?" + +"Aw, then! It's a bad character you give me, Rachel." + +"I know he goes to you for advice, and he might do worse. He's been +restless since he came home. What is it?" + +"Young blood must have its chance, you know. And change of pasture is good +for young calves, as Jeanne Falla says." + +"Hasn't he had change enough?" + +"Where is Philip?" + +"Down vraicking with Krok in Saignie. A big drift came in this morning, and +we want all we can get for the fields." + +"Give them a hand, Phil, and then bring your grandfather along. And I'll +talk to your mother." + +My grandfather and Krok had got most of the seaweed drawn up onto the +stones above tide-level, and as soon as we had secured the rest they came +up to the house with me, wet and hungry. I had told my grandfather simply +that George Hamon was there, but said nothing about our business. He +greeted him warmly. + +"George, my boy, you should come in oftener." + +"Ay, ay! If I came as often as I wanted you'd be for turning me out,"--with +a nod to Krok, who replied with a cheerful smile, and went to the fire. + +"You know better. Your welcome always waits you. What's in the wind now?" + +"Phil wants to go privateering," said my mother. "And George has come to +help him." + +"Ah, I expected it would come to that," said my grandfather quietly. "It's +a risky business, after all, Phil,"--to me, sitting on the green-bed and +feeling rather sheepish. + +"I know, grandfather. But there are risks in everything, and--" + +"And, to put it plainly, he wants Carette Le Marchant, and he's not the +only one, and that seems the quickest way to her," said George Hamon. + +My mother's quiet brown eyes gave a little snap, and he caught it. + +"When a lad's heart is set on a girl there is nothing he won't do for her. +I've known a man wait twenty years for a woman--" + +She made a quick little gesture with her hand, but he went on stoutly-- + +"Oh yes, and never give up hoping all that time, though, mon Gyu, it was +little he got for his--" + +"And you think it right he should go?" interrupted my mother hastily. And, +taken up as I was with my own concerns, I understood of a sudden that there +was that between my mother and George Hamon which I had never dreamed of. + +"I think he will never settle till he has been. And it's lawful business, +and profitable, and your objection to the free-trading doesn't touch it. +There is some discipline on a privateer, though it's not as bad as on a +King's ship. My advice is--let him go." + +"It's only natural, after all," said my grandfather, with a thoughtful nod. +"Who's the best man to go with, George?" + +"Torode of Herm makes most at it, they say. But--" + +"A rough lot, I'm told, and he has to keep a tight hand on them. But I know +nothing except from hearsay. I've never come across him yet." + +"Jean Le Marchant could tell you more about him than anyone else round +here," said Uncle George, looking musingly at me. "They have dealings +together in trading matters, I believe. Then, they say, John Ozanne is +fitting out a schooner in Peter Port. He's a good man, but how he'll shape +at privateering I don't know." + +"Who's going to command her?" I asked. + +"John himself, I'm told." + +"Then I'll go across and see Jean Le Marchant," I said. + +At which prompt discounting of John Ozanne, Uncle George laughed out loud. + +"Well, I don't suppose it can do any harm, if it doesn't do much good. He's +at home, I believe. Someone got hurt on their last run, I heard--" + +"Yes, Aunt Jeanne told me,--two of them." + +"Maybe you'll not find them in any too good a humour, but you know how to +take care of yourself." + +"I'll take care of myself all right." + +"Will you stop and have supper with us, George?" asked my grandfather. + +"Yes, I will. It's a treat to sup in company;" and my mother busied herself +over the pots at the fire. + +I had often wondered why Uncle George had never married. He was such a good +fellow, honest as the day, and always ready to help anybody in any way. And +yet, ever since his mother died, and that must have been ten years ago at +least, he had lived all alone in his house at La Vauroque, though he had +prospered in various ways, and was reputed well to do. He lived very +simply--made his own coffee of morning, and for the rest depended on an old +neighbour woman, who came in each day and cooked his meals and kept the +house clean. Yes, I had often wondered why, and not until this night did I +begin to understand. + +Long afterwards, when he was telling me of other matters, it did not +greatly surprise me to learn that he had waited all these years in hopes of +my mother coming round to him at last. And the wall of division that stood +between them and stirred him to bitterness at times--not against her, but +against what he counted her foolish obstinacy--was the fact that long ago +my father had gone down to the sea and never come back, as many and many an +Island man had done since ever time began. But she had her own rigid +notions of right and wrong, narrow perhaps, but of her very self, and she +would not marry him, though his affection never wavered, even when he felt +her foolishness the most. + +It was strange, perhaps, that I should jump to sudden understanding of the +matter when all my thoughts just then were of my own concerns. But love, I +think, if somewhat selfish, is a mighty quickener of the understanding, and +even though all one's thoughts are upon one object, a fellow-feeling opens +one's eyes to the signs elsewhere. + +We talked much of the matter of my going, that night over the supper-table, +or my grandfather and George Hamon did, while my mother and Krok and I +listened. And wonderful stories Uncle George told of the profits some folks +had made in the privateering--tens of thousands of pounds to the owners in +a single fortunate cruise, and hundreds to every seaman. + +But my mother warmed to the matter not at all. She sat gazing silently into +the fire, and thought, maybe, of those who lost, and of those whose shares +came only to the last cold plunge into the tumbling graveyard of the sea. +While as for me, in my own mind I saw visions of stirring deeds, and wealth +and fame, and Carette seemed nearer to me than ever she had been since she +went to Peter Port. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +HOW I WENT TO SEE TORODE OF HERM + + +The next morning found me running in under La Givaude for the landing-place +on Brecqhou, where my boat could lie safely in spite of the rising tide. + +I was in the best of spirits, for low spirits come of having nothing to do, +or not knowing what to do or how to do it. My next step was settled, lead +where it might. I was going privateering, and now I was going to see +Carette, and I intended to let her know that I was going and why, so that +there should be no mistake about it while I was away. + +I scrambled gaily up to the path that leads into the Island, and everything +was shining bright, like the inside of an ormer shell--the sea as blue as +the sky, except close under the headlands, where it was clear, soft green; +the waves farther out flashed in the sunlight and showed their white teeth +wherever they met the rocks; and the rocks were yellow and brown and black, +and all fringed with tawny seaweed, and here beside me the golden-rod +flamed yellow and orange, and the dark green bracken swung lazily in the +breeze. + +And then, of a sudden, a shot rang out, and a bullet flew past my head, and +cut my whistling short. + +"What fool's that?" I shouted at the smoke that floated out from behind a +lump of rock in front, and a young man got up lazily from behind it, and +stood looking at me as he rammed home another charge. + +"You'll be hurting someone if you don't take care," I said. + +"I do when I care to. That was only a hint. Who are you, and what do you +want here?" + +"I'm Phil Carre, of Belfontaine. I want to see Monsieur Le Marchant--and +Ma'm'zelle Carette." + +"Oh, you do, do you? And what do you want with them?" + +"I'll tell them when I see them. Do you always wish your friends +good-morning with a musket on Brecqhou?" + +"Our friends don't come till they're asked." + +"Then you don't have many visitors, I should say." + +"All we want," was the curt reply. + +He was a tall, well-built fellow, some years older than myself, +good-looking, as all the Le Marchants were, defiant of face and careless in +manner. He looked, in fact, as though it would not have troubled him in the +least if his bullet had gone through my head. + +He had finished loading his gun, and stood blocking the way, with no +intention of letting me pass. And how long we might have stood there I do +not know, when I saw another head bobbing along among the golden-rod, and +another of the brothers came up and stood beside him. + +"What is it, then, Martin? Who is he?" he asked, staring at me. + +"Says he's Phil Carre, of Belfontaine, but--" + +And the other dark face broke into a smile. "Tiens, I remember. You came +across once before--" + +"Yes. You had the measles." + +"And what brings you this time, Phil Carre?" + +"I want to speak with Monsieur Le Marchant." + +"And to see Carette, I think you said, Monsieur Phil Carre," said the +other. + +"Certainly." + +"Come along, then," said Helier, the new-comer. "There is no harm in Phil +Carre. You have not by any chance gone into the preventive service, +Monsieur Carre?" he laughed. + +"Not quite. I'm off to the privateering. It's that I want to speak to your +father about." + +"How then?" he asked with interest, as we walked along towards the great +wooden house in the hollow. "How does it concern him?" + +"Torode of Herm is the cleverest privateer round here, they say. I thought +to try with him, and your father knows more about him than anyone else." + +"Ah! Torode of Herm! Yes, he is a clever man is Torode. But he won't take +you, mon gars. He picks his own, and there is not an Island man among +them." + +The first thing I saw when I entered the house was Carette, busy at one of +the bunks in the dimness at the far end of the room. She looked round, and +then straightened up in surprise. + +"Why, Phil? What are you doing here? One moment"--and I saw that she was +tying a bandage round the arm of the man in the bunk. His eyes caught the +light from the windows and gleamed savagely at me under his rumpled black +hair. A similar face looked out from an adjoining bunk. When she had +finished she came quickly across to me. + +"Measles again?" I said, remembering my former visit. + +"Yes, measles," she said, with the colour in her face and questions in her +eyes. + +"I came to see your father, and if I was in luck, yourself also, Carette." + +"He is sleeping," she said, with a glance towards a side room. "He was +anxious about these two, and he would take the night watch. They are +feverish, you see." + +"I will wait." + +"He won't be long. He never takes much sleep. What do you want to--" and +then some sudden thought sent a flush of colour into her face and a quick +enquiry into her eyes, and she stopped short and stood looking at me. + +"It's this, Carette--" and then the door of the side room opened quietly +and Jean Le Marchant came out, looking at us with much surprise. + +He was very little changed since I had seen him last. It was the same keen, +handsome face, with its long white moustache and cold dark eyes, somewhat +tired at the moment with their night duties. + +"And this is--?" he asked suavely, as I bowed. + +"It is Phil Carre, of Belfontaine, father," said Carette quickly. "He has +come to see you." + +"Very kind of Monsieur Carre. It is not after my health you came to +enquire, monsieur?" + +"No, sir. It is this. I have decided to go privateering, and I want to go +with the best man. I am told Torode of Herm is the best, and that you can +tell me more about him than anyone else." + +"Ah--Torode! Yes, he is a very clever man is Torode--a clever man, and very +successful. And privateering is undoubtedly the game nowadays. Honest +free-trading isn't in it compared with the privateering, though even that +isn't what it was, they say. Like everything else, it is overdone, and many +mouths make scant faring. And so you want to go out with Torode?" he asked +musingly. + +"That is my idea. You see, monsieur, I have spent nearly four years in the +trading to the Indies, and I am about as well off as when I started--except +in experience. Now I want to make something--all I can, and as quickly as I +can. And," I said, plunging headlong at my chief object in coming, "my +reasons stand there," and I pointed to Carette, who jumped at the +suddenness of it, and coloured finely, and bit her lip, and sped away on +some household duty which she had not thought of till that moment. + +Monsieur Le Marchant smiled, and the two young men laughed out. + +"Ma foi!" said the old man. "You are frank, mon gars." + +"It is best so. I wanted you to know, and I wanted Carette to know, though +I think she has known it always. I have never thought of any but Carette, +and as soon as I am able I will ask her to marry me." + +"Whether I have other views for her or not?" said her father. + +"No other could possibly love Carette as I do,"--at which he smiled briefly +and the others grinned. "I have only one wish in life, and that is to care +for her and make her happy." + +"That is for the future, so we need not talk about it now. If you make a +fortune at the privateering--who knows?" + +"And what can you tell me of Torode, monsieur? Is he the best man to go out +with?" + +"He has been more successful than most, without doubt," and the keen cold +eyes rested musingly on me, while he seemed to be turning deep thoughts in +his mind. "Yes. Why not try him? And after your first voyage come across +again, and we will talk it over. Martin,"--to the man who had given me +good-morning with his musket,--"you are too long away from your post. +Allez!" + +"There was nothing in sight till Monsieur Carre came round the corner," +said Martin, and went off to his look-out. + +"These preventive men, with their constant new regulations, are an +annoyance," said the old man quietly. "Some of them will be getting hurt +one of these days. It is a pity the Government can't leave honest traders +alone. They worry you also on Sercq, I suppose?" + +"I hear of them. But we have nothing to do with the trading at Belfontaine, +so they don't trouble us." + +"Ah no, I remember. Well, come across again after your first voyage and +tell us how you get on, Monsieur Carre." + +Helier sauntered back with me towards the landing-place. Carette had +disappeared. I wondered if my plain speaking had offended her, but I was +glad she had heard. + +I pulled out of the little bay and ran up my lug and sped straight across +to Herm. Every rock was known to me, even though it showed only in a ring +of widening circles or a flattening of the dancing waves into a straining +coil, for we had been in the habit of fishing and vraicking here regularly +until Torode took possession. And many was the time I had hung over the +side of the rocking boat and sought in the depths for the tops of the great +rock-pillars which once held up the bridge that joined Brecqhou to Herm +and Jethou. But now the fishing and vraicking were stopped, for Torode +liked visitors as little as did Jean Le Marchant. + +And as I went I thought of Carette and how she looked when I spoke about +her to her father. And one minute I thought I had seen in her a brief look +which was not entirely discontent, and the next minute I was in doubt. +Perhaps it was a gleam of anger and annoyance. I could not tell, for the +chief thing I had seen in her face was undoubtedly a vast confusion at the +publicity of my declaration. In my mind also was the contradiction of +Helier Le Marchant's assertion that Torode would take no Island man into +his crew, and his fathers advice to go and try him. I was inclined to think +that Helier would prove right, for, even with my four years' experience of +men and things, I saw that Monsieur Le Marchant was beyond my +understanding. + +My boat swirled into the narrow way between Herm and Jethou, where the +water came up lunging and thrusting like great black jelly-fish. I dropped +my sail and took the oars, and stood with my face to the bows and pulled +cautiously among the traps and snares that lay thick on every side and +still more dangerously out of sight. So I crept round the south of Herm and +drew into the little roadstead on the west. + +And the first thing I saw, and saw no other for a while, was the handsomest +ship I had ever set eyes on. A long low black schooner, with a narrow +beading of white at deck level, and masts that tapered off into +fishing-rods. She was pierced for six guns a-side, and a great tarpaulin +cover on the forecastle and another astern hinted at something heavier +there. Her lines and finish were so graceful that I felt sure she was +French built, for English builders ever consider strength before beauty. A +very fast boat, I judged, but how she would behave in dirty weather I was +not so sure. Anyway, a craft to make a sailor's heart hungry to see her +loosed and free of the seas. She sat the water like a gull, so lightly that +one half expected a sudden unfolding of wings and a soaring flight into the +blue. + +I was still gazing with all my eyes, and drifting slowly in, when a sharp +hail brought me round facing a man who leaned with his arms on a wall of +rock and looked over and down at me. + +"Hello there!" + +"Hello!" I replied, and saw that it was young Torode himself. + +From my position I could see little except the rising ground in the middle +of the island, but I got the impression, chiefly no doubt from what I had +heard, and from the thin curls of smoke that rose in a line behind him, +that there was quite a number of houses there. In fact the place had all +the look of a fortified post. + +"Tiens! It is Monsieur Carre, is it not? And what may Monsieur Carre want +here?" His tone was somewhat masterful, if not insolent. I felt an +inclination to resent it, but bethought me in time that such could be no +help to my plans, and that, moreover, nothing was to be gained by +concealment. + +"I came to see your father. Is he to be seen?" + +"So? What about?" + +"I want to join his ship there for the privateering. She's a beauty." + +"Oh-ho! Tired of honest trading?" + +"I didn't know privateering had become dishonest." + +"Bit different from what you've been accustomed to, isn't it?" + +"Bit more profitable anyway, so they say. Are you open for any hands?" + +But Torode had turned and was in conversation with someone inside the +rampart. I heard my own name mentioned, and presently he disappeared and +his place was taken by an older man whom I knew instinctively for the great +Torode himself. + +A massive black head, and a grim dark face with a week's growth of +bristling black hair about it, and a dark moustache,--a strong lowering +face, and a pair of keen black eyes that bored holes in one; that was +Torode of Herm as I first set eyes on him. + +He stared at me so long and fixedly, as if he had never seen anything like +me before, that at last, out of sheer discomfort, I had to speak. + +"Monsieur Torode?" I asked, and after another staring pause, he said +gruffly-- + +"B'en! I am Torode. What is it you want?" + +"A berth on your ship there." + +"And why? Who are you, then?" + +"Your son knows me. My name is Carre,--Phil Carre. I come from Sercq." + +"Where there?" + +"Belfontaine." + +"Does your father live there?" + +"He's dead these twenty years. I live with my mother and my grandfather." + +He seemed to be turning this over in his mind, and presently he asked-- + +"And they want you to go privateering?" + +"I don't say they want me to. It's I want to go. They are willing--at all +events they don't object." + +"And why do you go against their wishes?" + +"Well, it's this way, Monsieur Torode. I've been four voyages to the West +and there's no great things in it. I want to be doing something more for +myself." + +"Why don't you try the free-trading?" + +"Ah, there! We have never taken to the free-trading, but I don't know why." + +"Afraid maybe." + +"No, it's not that. There's more risk privateering." + +"Well, then?" + +"My folks don't like it. That's all I know." + +"But they'll let you go privateering?" + +"Yes," I said, with a shrug at my own lack of understanding on that point. +"Privateering's honest business after all." + +"And free-trading isn't! You'll never make a privateer, mon gars. You're +too much in leading-strings." + +"I don't know," I said, somewhat ruffled. "I have seen some service. We +fought a Frenchman in the West Indies, and I've been twice wrecked." + +"So! Well, we're full up, and business is bad or we wouldn't be lying +here." + +"And you won't give me a trial?" + +"No!" + +"And that's the last word?" + +"That's the last word." + +"Then I'll wish you good-day, monsieur. I must try elsewhere," and I +dropped into my seat and pulled away down the little roadstead. + +Monsieur Torode was still leaning over the wall, and watching me fixedly, +when I turned the corner of the outer ridge of rocks and crept away +through the mazy channels towards Peter Port. When I got farther out, and +could get an occasional glimpse of the rampart, he was still leaning on it +and was still staring out at me just as I had left him. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +HOW I WENT OUT WITH JOHN OZANNE + + +There was no difficulty in finding John Ozanne. I made out his burly figure +and red-whiskered face on the harbour wall before I had passed Castle +Cornet, and heard his big voice good-humouredly roaring to the men at work +in the rigging of a large schooner that lay alongside. + +He greeted me with great goodwill. + +"Why, surely, Phil," he said very heartily, in reply to my request. "It's +not your grandfather's boy I would be refusing, and it's a small boat that +won't take in one more. What does the old man say to your going?" + +"He's willing, or I wouldn't be here." + +"That's all right, then. What do you think of her?" + +We were standing on the harbour wall, looking down on the schooner on which +the riggers were busy renewing her standing gear. + +"A good staunch boat, I should say. What can you get out of her?" + +"Ten easy with these new spars, and she can come up as close as any boat +I've ever seen--except maybe yon black snake of Torode's,"--with a jerk of +the head towards Herm. "Seen her?" + +"Yes, I've seen her. How's she in bad weather?" + +"Wet, I should say. We can stand a heap more than she can." + +"When do you expect to get off?" + +"Inside a week. Come along and have a drink. It's dry work watching these +fellows." + +So we went along to the cafe just behind us, and it was while we were +sitting there, sipping our cider, and I was telling him of my last voyage +and after-journeyings, that a man came in and slapped down on the table in +front of us a printed bill which, as it turned out afterwards, concerned us +both more nearly than we knew. + +"Ah!" said John Ozanne, "I'd heard of that. If we happen across him we'll +pick up that five thousand pounds or we'll know the reason why." + +It was a notice sent out by one John Julius Angerstein, of Lloyds in the +City of London, on behalf of the merchants and shipowners there, offering a +reward of five thousand pounds for the capture, or proof of the +destruction, of a French privateer which had for some time past been making +great play with British shipping in the Channel and Bay of Biscay. She was +described as a schooner of one hundred and fifty tons or thereabouts, black +hull with red streak, carrying an unusually large crew and unusually heavy +metal. She flew a white flag with a red hand on it, her red figure-head was +said to represent the same device, and she was known by the name of _La +Main Rouge_. + +John Ozanne folded the bill methodically and stowed it safely away in his +pocket-book. + +"It'd be a fortune if we caught him full," he said thoughtfully. "They say +he takes no prizes. Just helps himself to what he wants like a highwayman, +and then sheers off and looks out for another. Rare pickings he must have +had among some of those fat East Indiamen. Here's to our falling in with +him!" and we clicked our mugs on that right hopefully. + +"What weight do we carry?" I asked, in view of the Frenchman's heavy guns, +our own not being yet mounted. + +"Four eighteens a-side, and one twenty-four forward and one aft. There'll +be some chips flying if we meet him, but we'll do our best to close his +fist and stop his grabbing. You're wanting to get back? Come over day after +to-morrow and give me a hand. I'll be glad of your help;" and I dropped +into my boat and pulled out into the wind, and ran up my lug for home. + +"So you saw Torode himself, Phil? And what is he like?" asked my +grandfather, as I told them the day's doings. + +"Big, black, grim-looking fellow. Just what you'd expect. On the whole I'm +not sorry I'm going with John Ozanne. He seems pleased to have me too, and +that's something." + +"I'd much sooner think of you with him," said my mother. "I know nothing of +Monsieur Torode, but nobody seems to like him." + +George Hamon said much the same thing, and spoke highly of John Ozanne as a +cautious seaman, which I well knew him to be. + +Jeanne Falla laughed heartily when I told her of my visit to Brecqhou, +which I did very fully. + +"Mon Gyu, Phil, mon gars, but you're getting on! And you told her to her +face before them all that you wanted to marry her? It's as odd a style of +wooing as ever I heard." + +"Well, you see, I wanted there to be no mistake about it, Aunt Jeanne. If +I don't see Carette again before I leave, she will know how the land lies +at all events. If she takes to young Torode while I'm away it's because she +likes him best." + +"And she,--Carette,--what did she say to it?" + +"She didn't say anything." + +"Tuts! How did she look, boy? A girl tells more with her face and her eyes +than with her tongue, even when they say opposite things." + +"I'm not sure how she took it, Aunt Jeanne. How would you have taken it, +now?" + +"Ma fe! It would depend," she laughed, her old face creasing up with +merriment. "If it was Monsieur Right I wouldn't have minded maybe, though I +might be a bit taken aback at the newest way in courting." + +"Well, I thought she looked something like that. And then, afterwards, I +wasn't sure she wasn't angry about it. I don't know. I've had so little to +do with girls, you see." + +"And you'd not know much more, however much you'd had. You're only a boy +still, mon gars." + +"Well, I'm going to do a man's work, and it's for Carette I'm going to do +it. Put in a good word for me while I'm away, won't you now, Aunt Jeanne? +Carette is more to me than anything else in the world." + +"Ay, well! We'll see. And you saw Torode himself?" + +And I told her all I had to tell about Torode, and John Ozanne, whom she +had known as a boy. + +"He was always good-hearted was John, but a bit slow and easy-going," said +she. "But we'll hope for the best." + +"Will Carette be across in the next day or two?" + +"I doubt it. Those two who got hurt will need her. If you don't see her you +shall leave me a kiss for her," she chirped. + +"I'll give you a dozen now," I cried, jumping up, and giving her the full +tale right heartily. + +"Ma fe, yes! You are getting on, mon gars," she said, as she set the black +sun-bonnet straight again. "You tackle Carette that way next time you see +her, and--" + +"Mon Gyu, I wouldn't dare to!" And Aunt Jeanne still found me subject for +laughter. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +HOW WE CAME ACROSS MAIN ROUGE + + +I was sorely tempted to run across to Brecqhou for one more sight of +Carette before I left home, but decided at last to leave matters as they +were. Beyond the pleasure of seeing her I could hope to gain little, for +she was not the one to show her heart before others, and too rash an +endeavour might provoke her to that which was not really in her. + +As things were I could cherish the hopes that were in me to the fullest, +and one makes better weather with hope than with doubt. Carette knew now +all that I could tell her, and Aunt Jeanne would be a tower of strength to +me in my absence. I could leave the leaven to work. And I think that if I +had not given my mother that last day she would have felt it sorely, and +with reason. + +The deepest that was in us never found very full vent at Belfontaine, and +that, I think, was due very largely to the quiet and kindly, but somewhat +rigid, Quakerism of my grandfather. We felt and knew without babbling into +words. + +So all that day my mother hovered about me with a quiet face and hungry +eyes, but never one word that might have darkened my going. She had braced +her heart to it, as the women of those days had to do, and as all women of +all times must whose men go down to the sea in ships. + +And I do not think there was any resentment in her mind at my feeling for +Carette. For she spoke of her many times and always in the nicest way, +seeing perhaps the pleasure it gave me. She was a very wise and thoughtful +woman, though not so much given to the expression of her wisdom as was +Jeanne Falla, and I think she understood that this too was inevitable, and +so she had quietly brought her mind to it. But after all, all this is but +saying that her tower of quiet strength was built on hidden foundations of +faith and hope, and her mother-love needed no telling. + +Next day my grandfather and Krok made holiday, in order to carry me over to +Peter Port and see the _Swallow_ for themselves, and my mother's fervent +"God keep you, Phil!" and all the other prayers that I felt in her arms +round my neck, were with me still as we ran past Brecqhou, and I stood with +an arm round the mast looking eagerly for possible, but unlikely, sight of +Carette. + +We were too low down to see the house, which lay in a hollow. The white +waves were ripping like comets along the fringe of ragged rocks under the +great granite cliffs, and our boat reeled and plunged under the strong west +wind, and sent the foam flying in sheets as we tacked against the cross +seas. + +We were running a short slant past Moie Batarde, before taking a long one +for the Grands Bouillons, when a flutter of white among the wild black +rocks of the point by the Creux a Vaches caught my eye, and surely it was +Carette herself, though whether she had known of our passage, or was in the +habit of frequenting that place, I could not tell. I took it to myself, +however, and waved a hearty greeting, and the last sight I had of her, and +could not possibly have had a better, was her hand waving farewells in a +way that held much comfort for me for many a day to come. I had told my +grandfather about Torode's fine schooner, and had enlarged so upon it that +he had a wish to see her for himself, and so we were making for the passage +between Herm and Jethou, which I had travelled two days before. He knew the +way and the traps and pitfalls better even than I did, and ran us in up the +wind with a steady hand till the roadstead opened before us. But it was +empty. Torode was off after plunder, and we turned and ran for Peter Port. +We found John Ozanne as busy as a big bumble-bee, but he made time to greet +my grandfather very jovially, and showed him all over his little ship with +much pride. He was in high spirits and anxious to be off, especially since +he had heard of Torode's going. + +"He's about as clever as men are made," he said, "and when he goes he goes +on business, so it's time for us to be on the move too. We'll make a man of +your boy, Philip." + +"A privateer!" said my grandfather with a smile. + +"Ay, well! I can believe it's not all to your liking, but it's natural +after all." + +"I'm not complaining." + +"I never heard you. But you'd have been better pleased if he hadn't wanted +so much." + +"Maybe," said my grandfather with his quiet smile. "But, as Jeanne Falla +says, 'Young calves'--" + +"I know, I know," laughed John Ozanne. "She's a famous wise woman is Jeanne +Falla, and many a licking she gave me when I was a boy for stealing her +apples round there at Cobo." + +When my grandfather waved his hand, as they ran out past Castle Cornet, the +last link broke between Sercq and myself for many a day. Before I saw any +of them again--except the distant sight of the Island lying like a great +blue whale nuzzling its young, as we passed up Little Russel next +morning--many things had happened for the changing of many lives. I had +seen much, suffered much, and learned much, and it is of these things I +have to tell you. + +We cast off next day, amid the cheers and wavings of a great crowd. Half +Peter Port stood on the walls of the old harbour. Some had friends and +relatives on board, and their shoutings were akin to lusty, veiled prayers +for their safe return. Some had eggs in our basket, and in wishing us good +speed were not without an eye to the future, and maybe were already +counting their possible chickens. We gave them cheer for cheer, and more +again for the St. Sampson people. Then, with all our new swing making a +gallant show, we swept past Grand Braye, and Ancresse, and turned our nose +to the north-west. + +We were all in the best of spirits. The _Swallow_ was well found and well +armed, and showed a livelier pair of heels than I had looked for, and that, +in an Ishmaelitish craft, was a consideration and a comfort. She was roomy +too, and would make better times of bad weather, I thought, than would +Torode's beautiful black snake. We were sixty men all told, and every man +of us keen for the business we were on, and with sufficient confidence in +John Ozanne to make a willing crew, though among us there were not lacking +good-humoured jokes anent his well-known easy-going, happy-go-lucky +proclivities. These, however, would make for comfort on board, and for the +rest, he was a good seaman and might be expected to do his utmost to +justify the choice of his fellow-townsmen, and he was said to have a +considerable stake in the matter himself. + +We had four mates, all tried Peter Port men, and our only fears were as to +possible lack of the enemy's merchant ships in quantity and quality +sufficient for our requirements. On the second day out, a slight haze on +the sky-line shortening our view, the sound of firing came down to us on +the wind, and John Ozanne promptly turned the _Swallow's_ beak in that +direction. + +We edged up closer and closer, and when the haze lifted, came on a hot +little fight in progress between a big ship and a small one, and crowded +the rigging and bulwarks to make it out. + +"Little chap's a Britisher, I'll wager you," said old Martin Cohu, the +bo's'un. + +"A privateer then, and t'other a merchantman." + +"Unless it's t'other way on. Anyway the old man will make 'em out soon;" +and we anxiously eyed John Ozanne working away with his big brass-bound +telescope, as we slanted up towards the two ships, first on one tack then +on the other. + +The larger vessel's rigging we could see was badly mauled, the smaller ship +dodged round and round her, and off and on, plugging her as fast as the +guns could be loaded and fired. + +"That's no merchantman," said old Martin. "A French Navy ship--a +corvette--about fifteen guns a-side maybe, and t'other's an English gun +brig; making rare game of her she is too. Minds me of a dog and a bull." + +"Maybe the old man'll take a hand just for practice." + +And John Ozanne was quite willing. We were ordered to quarters, and ran in, +with our colours up, prepared to take our share. But the commander of the +brig had his own ideas on that matter, strong ones too, and he intimated +them in the most unmistakable way by a shot across our bows, as a hint to +us to mind our own business and leave him to his. + +A hoarse laugh and a ringing cheer went up from the _Swallow_ at this truly +bull-dog spirit, and we drew off and lay-to to watch the result. + +The Frenchman was fully three times the size of his plucky little +antagonist, but the Englishman as usual had the advantage in seamanship. He +had managed to cripple his enemy early in the fight, and now had it all his +own way. We watched till the Frenchman's colours came down, then gave the +victors another hearty cheer, and went on our way to seek fighting of our +own. + +For three days we never sighted a sail. We had turned south towards the +Bay, and were beginning to doubt our luck, when, on the fourth day, a stiff +westerly gale forced us to bare poles. During the night it waxed stronger +still, and the little _Swallow_ proved herself well. Next morning a long +line of great ships went gallantly past us over the roaring seas, +shepherded by two stately frigates,--an East Indian convoy homeward bound. +Late that day, the fifth of our cruising, we raised the topmasts of a large +ship and made for her hopefully. + +"A merchantman," said Martin Cohu disgustedly, "and English or I'm a +Dutchman. One of the convoy lagged behind. No pickings for us this time, +my lads." + +But there was more there than he expected. + +There was always the chance of her having been captured by the French, in +which case her recapture would bring some little grist to our mill, and so +we crowded sail for her. And, as we drew nearer, it was evident, from the +talk among John Ozanne and his mates, that they could see more through +their glasses than we could with our eyes. + +"Guyabble!" cried old Martin at last. "There's another ship hitched on to +her far side. I can see her masts. Now, what's this? A privateer as like as +no, and we'll have our bite yet, maybe." + +And before long we could all make out the thin masts of a smaller vessel +between the flapping canvas of the larger. John Ozanne ordered us to +quarters, and got ready for a fight. He gave us a hearty word or two, since +every man likes to know what's in the wind. + +"There's a schooner behind yonder Indiaman, my lads, and it's as likely as +not she's been captured. If so we'll do our best to get her back, for old +England's sake, and our own, and just to spite the Frenchman. If the +schooner should prove the _Red Hand_, and that's as like as not, for he's +the pluckiest man they have, you know what it means. It'll be hard fighting +and no quarter. But he's worth taking. The London merchants have put a +price on him, and there'll be that, and himself, and a share in the +Indiaman besides, and we'll go back to Peter Port with our pockets lined." + +We gave him a cheer and hungered for the fray. + +John Ozanne took us round in a wide sweep to open the ships, and every eye +and glass was glued to them. As we rounded the Indiaman's great gilded +stern, about a mile away, it did not need John Ozanne's emphatic--"It's +him!" to tell us we were in for a tough fight, and that three prizes lay +for our taking. We gave John another cheer, tightened our belts, and +perhaps--I can speak for one at all events--wondered grimly how it would be +with some of us a couple of hours later. + +The Frenchman cast off at once and came to meet us, the Red Hand flying at +his masthead, the red lump at his bows, the red streak clearly visible just +below the open gun-ports. + +"Do your duty, lads," said John Ozanne. "There'll be tough work for us. He +carries heavy metal. We'll close with him at all odds, and then the British +bull-dog must see to it." + +We gave him another cheer, and then a cloud of white smoke burst from the +Frenchman's fore deck, and our topmast and all its hamper came down with a +crash, and our deck rumbled with bitter curses. + +"---- him!" said Martin Cohu. "That's not fair play. Dismantling shot or +I'm a Dutchman! It's only devils and Yankees use shot like that. ---- me, +if we don't hang him if we catch him." + +John Ozanne tried him with our long gun forward, but the shot fell short. +In point of metal the Frenchman beat us, and our best hope was to close +with him as quickly as possible. + +But he knew that quite as well as we. He was well up to his business, and +chose his own distance. His next shot swept along our deck, smashing half a +dozen men most horribly, and tied itself round the foot of the mainmast, +wounding it badly. And then I saw for the first time that most hideous +missile which the Americans had introduced, but which other nations +declined to use, as barbarous and uncivilised. It was a great iron ring +round which were looped iron bars between two and three feet long. The bars +played freely like keys on a ring, and splayed out in their flight, and did +the most dreadful execution. Intended originally, I believe, for use only +against hostile spars and rigging, this rascally freebooter put them to any +and every service, and with his powerful armament and merciless ferocity +they went far towards explaining his success. + +For myself, and I saw the same in all my shipmates, the first sense of +dismayed impotence in the face of those most damnable whirling flails very +soon gave place to black fury. For the moment one thing only did I desire, +and that was to be within arm's reach of the Frenchman, cutlass in hand. +Had he been three times our number I doubt if one of them would have +escaped if we had reached him. My heart felt like to burst with its boiling +rage, and all one could do was to wait patiently at one's post, and it was +the hardest thing I had ever had to do yet. + +John Ozanne made us all lie down, save when a change of course was +necessary, while he did his utmost to get the weather gauge of the enemy. +And he managed it at last by a series of tacks which cost us many men and +more spars. Then, throwing prudence to the winds, he drove straight for the +Frenchman to board him at any cost. It was our only chance, for his heavier +guns would have let him plug us from a distance, till every man on board +was down. + +We gave a wild cheer as we recognised the success of John Ozanne's +manoeuvring, and every man gripped his steel and ground his teeth for a +fight to the death. + +But it was not to be. Death was there, but no fight. For, as we plunged +straight for the Frenchman, following every twist he made, and eager only +for the leap at his throat, our little ship began to roll in a sickly +fashion as she had never done before, and men looked into one another's +faces with fears in their eyes beyond any all the Frenchmen in the world +could put there. And the carpenter, who had been on deck with the rest, +bursting for the fight, tumbled hastily below, and came up in a moment with +a face like putty. + +"She's going!" he cried, and it was his last word. One of those devilish +six feet of whirling bars scattered him and three others into fragments and +then shore its way through the bulwarks behind. And the winged _Swallow_ +began to roll under our feet in the way that makes a seaman's heart grow +sick. + +The Frenchman never ceased firing on us. No matter. It was only a choice of +deaths. Not a man among us would have asked his life from him, even if the +chance had been given, and it was not. + +My last look at the Frenchman showed him coming straight for us. I saw the +great forecastle gun belch its cloud of smoke. The water was spouting up in +white jets through our scuppers. It came foaming green and white through +our gun ports. Then, in solid green sheets, it leaped up over the bulwarks, +and for a moment the long flush deck was a boiling cauldron with a bloody +scum, in which twirled and twisted dead men and living, and fragments of +the ship and rigging. + +When I came up through the roaring green water I found myself within arm's +length of the foretopsailyard, to which a strip of ragged sail still hung. +I hooked my arm over it and looked round for my comrades. About a score of +heads floated in the belching bubbles of the sunken ship, but even as I +looked the number lessened, for the Island men of those days were no +swimmers. A burly body swung past me. I grabbed it, dragged it to the spar +and hoisted its arm over it. It was John Ozanne, and presently he recovered +sufficiently to get his other arm up and draw himself chest-high to look +about him. The light spar would not support us both, and I let myself sink +into the water, with only a grip on a hanging rope's end to keep in tow +with it. + +John Ozanne gazed wildly round for a minute, and then raised his right arm +and volubly cursed the Frenchman, who was coming right down on us. + +"Oh, you devils! You devils! May--" and then to my horror, for with the +wash of the waves in my ears I could hear nothing, a small round hole bored +itself suddenly in his broad forehead, just where the brown and the white +met, and he threw up his arms and dropped back into the water. + +I made a grab for him, but he was gone, and even as I did so the meaning of +that hideous little round hole in his forehead came plain to me. The +Frenchman was shooting at every head he could see. + +I dragged the spar over me, and floated under the strip of sail with no +more than my nose showing between it and the wood, and the long black hull, +with its red streak glistening as though but just new dipped in blood, +swept past me so close that I could have touched it. Through the opening +between my sail and the spar I could see grim faces looking over the side, +and the flash and smoke of muskets as the poor strugglers beyond were shot +down one by one. + +I lay there--in fear and trembling, I confess, for against cold-blooded +brutality such as this no man's courage may avail--till the last shots had +long died away. And when at last I ventured to raise my head and look about +me, the Frenchman was stretching away to the north-east and the Indiaman +was pressing to the north, and both were far away. The sun sank like a ball +of fire dipped in blood as I watched. The long red trail faded off the +waters, and the soft colours out of the sky. The sea was a chill waste of +tumbling waves. The sky was a cast-iron shutter. The manhood went out of +me, and I sank with a sob on to my frail spar, for of all our company which +had sailed so gallantly out of Peter Port five days before, I was the only +one left, and the rest had all been done to death in most foul and cruel +fashion. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +HOW I FELL INTO THE _RED HAND_ + + +I must have fallen into a stupor, as the effect of the terrible strain on +mind and body of all I had gone through. For I remember nothing of that +first night on the spar, and only came slowly back to sense of sodden pain +and hunger when the sun was up. Some sailorly instinct, of which I have no +recollection whatever, had taken a turn of the rope under my arms and round +the yard, and so kept me from slipping away. But I woke up to agonies of +cold--a sodden deadness of the limbs which set me wondering numbly if I had +any legs left--and a gnawing hunger and emptiness. I felt no thirst; +perhaps because my body was so soaked with water. In the same dull way the +horrors of the previous day came back on me, and I wondered heavily if my +dead comrades had not the better lot. + +But the bright sun warmed the upper part of me, and I essayed to drag my +dead legs out of the water, if perchance they might be warmed back to life +also. They came back in time, with horrible pricking pains and cramps which +I could only suffer, lest I should roll off into the water. And if I had, I +am not at all sure that I would have struggled further, so weary and broken +had the night left me. + +All that day I lay on my spar, warmed into meagre life by the sun, and +tortured at first with the angry clamour of an empty stomach, for it was +full twenty hours since I had eaten, and the wear and tear alone would have +needed very full supplies to make good. But in time the bitter hunger gave +place to a sick emptiness which I essayed to stay by chewing bits of +floating seaweed. And this, and the drying of my body by the sun, brought +on a furious thirst, to which the sparkling water that broke against my +spar proved a most horrible temptation. So torturing was it in the +afternoon that the sodden cold of the night now seemed as nothing in +comparison, and to relieve it I dropped my body into the water to soak +again. + +Not a sail did I see that whole day, but being so low in the water my range +was of course very limited. In the times when I could get away for a moment +or two from my hunger and thirst, my thoughts ran horribly on the previous +day's happenings--those hurtling iron flails against which we were +powerless--that little round hole that bored itself in John Ozanne's +forehead--that cold-blooded shooting of drowning men--the monstrous +brutality of it all! What little blood was in me, and cold as that was, +surged up into my head at the recollection, and set me swaying on my perch. + +And then my thoughts wandered off to the poor souls in Peter Port, +hopefully speculating on the luck we were like to have, counting on the +return of those whose broken bodies were dredging the bottom below me,--to +the shocking completeness of our disasters. Truly when it all came back on +me like that I felt inclined at times to loose my hold and have done with +life. And then the thought of Carette, and my mother, and my grandfather, +and Krok, would brace me to further precarious clinging with a warming of +the heart, but chiefly the thought of Carette, and the good-bye she had +waved to me from the point of Brecqhou. + +I might, perhaps, with reason have remembered that what had happened to us +was but one of the natural results of warfare--barring, of course, the +murderous treatment of which no British seaman ever would be guilty. But I +did not. My thoughts ran wholly on the actual facts, and, as I have said, +faintly at times, but to my salvation, on Carette and home. + +While the sun shone, and the masses of soft white cloud floated slowly +against the blue, hope still held me, if precariously at times. At midday, +indeed, the fierce bite of his rays on my bare back--for we had stripped +for the fight and I had on only my breeches and belt--combined with the +salting of the previous night and the dazzle of the dancing waves added +greatly to my discomfort. I felt like an insect under a burning glass, and +suffered much until I had the sense to slice a piece off my sail with my +knife and pull it over my raw shoulder bones. But when night fell again, +the chill waste of waters washed in on my soul and left me desolate and +hopeless, and I hardly hoped to see the dawn. + +I remember little of the night, except that it was full of long-drawn agony +and seemed as if it would never end. But for the rope under my arms and the +loop of the sail, into which some time during the night I slipped, I must +have gone, and been lost. + +In the morning the sun again woke what life was left in me. I had been +nearly forty-eight hours without food or drink, and strained on the edge +of death every moment of that time. It was but the remnant of a man that +lay like a rag across the spar, and he looked only for death, and yet by +instinct clung to life. + +And when my weary eyes lifted themselves to look dully round, there, like a +white cloud of hope, came life pressing gloriously towards me--a pyramid of +snowy canvas, dazzling in the sunshine, the upper courses of a very large +ship. + +She was still a great way off, but I could see down to her lower +foretop-gallant sail, and to my starting eyes she seemed to grow as I +watched her. She was coming my way, and I have little doubt that, in the +weakness of the moment and the sudden leap of hope when hope seemed dead, I +laughed and cried and behaved like a witless man. I know that I prayed God, +as I had never prayed in my life before, that she might keep her course and +come close enough for some sharp eye to see me. + +Now I could see her fore and main courses, and presently the black dot of +her hull, and at last the white curl at her forefoot, as she came pressing +gallantly on, just as though she knew my need and was speeding her best to +answer it. + +While she was still far away, I raised myself as high as I could on my spar +and waved my rag of sail desperately. I tried to shout, but could not bring +out so much as a whisper. I waved and waved. She was coming--coming. She +was abreast of me, and showed no sign of having seen me. She was +passing--passing. I remember scrambling up onto the spar and +waving--waving--waving-- + + * * * * * + +I came to myself in the comforting confinement of a bunk. I could touch +the side and the roof. They were real and solid. I rubbed my hand on them. +There was mighty comfort and assurance of safety in the very feel of them. + +I lay between white sheets, and there was a pillow under my head. I tried +to raise my head to look about me, but it swam like oil in a pitching lamp, +and I was glad to drop it on the pillow again. The place was full of +creakings, a sound I knew right well. + +A door opened. I turned my head on the pillow and saw a stout little man +looking at me with much interest. + +"Ah ha!" he said, with a friendly nod. "That's all right. Come back at +last, have you? Narrow squeak you made of it. How long had you been on that +spar?" + +"I remember--a night and a day--and a night--and the beginning of a day," I +said, and my voice sounded harsh and odd to me. + +"And nothing to eat or drink?" + +"I chewed some seaweed, I think." + +"Must have been in excellent condition or you'd never have stood it." + +"What ship?" + +"_Plinlimmon Castle_, East Indiaman, homeward bound. This is sick-bay. +You're in my charge. Hungry?" + +"No," and I felt surprised at myself for not being. + +"I should think not," he laughed. "Been dropping soup and brandy into you +every chance we got for twenty-four hours past. Head swimmy?" + +"Yes," and I tried to raise it, but dropped back onto the pillow. + +"Another bit of sleep and you shall tell us all about it." And he went +out, and I fell asleep again. + +I woke next time to my wits, and could sit up in the bunk without my head +going round. The little doctor came in presently with another whom I took +to be the captain of the Indiaman. He was elderly and jovial-looking, face +like brown leather, with a fringe of white whisker all round it. + +In answer to his questions I told him who I was, and where from, and how I +came to be on the spar. + +"But, by ----!" he swore lustily, when I came to the flying flails and the +shooting of the drowning men, "that was sheer bloody murder!" + +"Murder as cruel as ever was done," I said, and told him further of the +round hole that bored itself in John Ozanne's forehead right before my +eyes. + +"By ----!" he said again, and more lustily than ever. "I hope to God we +don't run across him! Which way did he go, did you say?" + +"He went off nor'-east, but his prowling-ground is hereabouts. What guns do +you carry, sir?" + +"Ten eighteen-pound carronades." + +I shook my head. "He could play with you as he did with us, and you could +never hit back." + +"---- him!" said the old man, and went out much disturbed. + +The cheery little doctor chatted with me for a few minutes, and told me +that both they and the Indiaman we saw _Red Hand_ looting belonged to the +convoy we had seen pass three days before, but, having sprung some of their +upper gear in the storm, they had had to put into Lisbon for repairs, and +the rest could not wait for the two lame ducks. + +"Think he'll come across us?" he asked anxiously. + +"I'll pray God he doesn't. For I don't see what you can do if he does." + +"I'm inclined to think that the best thing would be to let him take what he +wants and go. He let the _Mary Jane_ go, you say?" + +"She went one way and he the other, when he'd sunk us, and we were told he +rarely makes prizes. Just helps himself to the best, like a pirate. He's +just a pirate, and nothing else." + +"Discretion is sometimes the better part of valour," he said musingly. +"When you can't fight it's no good pretending you can, and this old hooker +can't do more than seven knots, and not often that. We've been last dog all +the way round. The frigates used to pepper us till they got tired of it;" +and he went out, and I knew what his advice would be if he should be asked +for it. + +About midday I felt so much myself again--until I got onto my feet, when I +learned what forty-eight hours starving on a spar can take out of a +man--that I got up and dressed myself, by degrees, in some things I found +waiting for me in one of the other bunks. + +I hauled myself along a passage till I came to a gangway down which the +sweet salt air poured like new life, and the first big breath of it set my +head spinning again for a moment. + +I was hanging on to the handrail when a man came tumbling down in haste. + +"It's you," he cried, at sight of me. "Cap'n wants you;" and we went up +together, and along the deck to the poop, where the captain stood with his +officers and a number of ladies and gentlemen. From the look of them they +all seemed disturbed and anxious, and they all turned to look at me as if +I could help them. + +"Carre," said the captain, as I climbed the ladder, "look there! Is that +the ---- villain?" and pointed over the starboard quarter. + +One look was enough for me. I had stared hard enough at that long black +hull three days before, while it thrashed us to death with its whirling +devilries. And there was no mistaking the splash of red on his foretopsail. + +"It's him, captain;" and the ladies wrung their hands, while the men looked +deadly grim, and the captain took a black turn along the deck and came back +and stood in front of them. + +"It's not in an Englishman's heart to give in without a fight," he said +gruffly, "and I'm not in the habit of asking any man's advice about my own +business, but from what this man says that ---- villain over yonder can +flay us to pieces at his pleasure and we can't touch him;" and he looked at +me. + +"That is so," I said. + +"If we let him have his way the chances are he'll take all he wants and go. +If we fight--My God, how can we fight? We can't reach him. What would _you_ +do now? You've been through it once with him," he turned suddenly on me. + +"I'd give five years of my life to have a grip of his throat--" + +"And how'd you get there under these conditions, my man?" + +"You can't do a thing, captain. And anything you try will only make it +worse. He'll send you one of his damnable cart-wheels aboard and you'll see +the effect. You know how far your carronades will carry." + +"Get you below, all of you," he said to his white-faced passengers. "No +need to get yourselves killed. He'll probably go for our spars, but when +shots are flying you can't tell what'll happen. Stop you with me!" he said +to me, and the poop cleared quickly of all outsiders. + +The schooner came on like a racehorse. While yet a great way off a puff of +smoke balled out on his fore-deck and disappeared before the report reached +us. + +"That's blank to tell us to stop. I must have more to justify me than +that," said the captain, and held on. + +Another belch of white smoke on the schooner, and in a minute our foremast +was sliced through at the cap, and the foretopmast, with its great square +sails, and their hamper, was banging on the deck, while the jibs and +staysail fell into the sea to leeward, and the big ship fell off her course +and nosed round towards the wind. + +"---- him! That's dismantling shot and no mistake about it. There's nothing +else for it. Haul down that flag!" cried the captain; and we were captive +to _Red Hand_. + +"Sink his ---- boats as he comes aboard, sir!" said one of the mates in a +black fury. "He's only a ---- pirate." + +"I would, if we'd gain anything by it," said the captain grimly. "But it'd +only end in him sinking us. Our pop-guns are out of it;" and they stood +there, with curses in their throats--it was a cursing age, you must +remember--and faces full of gloomy anger, as helpless against the +Frenchman's long-range guns as seagulls on a rock. + +The schooner came racing on, and rounded to with a beautiful sweep just out +of reach of our guns. Practice had made him perfect. He knew his damnable +business to the last link in the chain. + +We could see his deck black with men, and presently a boat dropped neatly +and came bounding towards us. + +"Depress your carronades and discharge them," ordered a black-bearded young +man in her, in excellent English, as they hooked on. "If one is withdrawn, +we will blow you out of the water." + +The guns were discharged. The schooner gave a coquettish shake and came +sweeping down alongside the Indiaman; some of her crew leaped into our main +chains, and lashed the two ships together. Then a mob of rough-looking +rascals came swarming up our side, and at their head was one at sight of +whom my breath caught in my throat, and I rubbed my eyes in startled +amazement, lest their forty-eight hours' salting should have set them +astray. + +But they told true, and a black horror and a cold fear fell upon me. I saw +the bloody scum swirling round on the _Swallow's_ deck as she sank. I saw +the heads of my struggling shipmates disappearing one by one under those +felon shots from the schooner. I saw once more that little round hole bore +itself in John Ozanne's forehead on the spar. And I knew that there was not +room on earth for this man and me. I knew that if he caught sight of me I +was a dead man. + +For the last time I had seen that grim black face--which was also the first +time--he was leaning over the rock wall of Herm, watching me steadfastly as +I pulled away from him towards Peter Port, and his face was stamped clear +on my memory for all time. + +It was Torode of Herm, and in a flash I saw to the bottom of his treachery +and my own great peril. No wonder he was so successful and came back full +from every cruise, when others brought only tales of empty seas. He lived +in security on British soil and played tinder both flags. By means of a +quickly assumed disguise, he robbed British ships as a Frenchman, and +French ships as an Englishman. That explained to the full the sinking of +the _Swallow_ and the extermination of her crew. It was to him a matter of +life or death. If one escaped with knowledge of the facts, the devilment +must end. And I was that one man. + +His keen black eyes had swept over us as he came over the side. I shrank +small and prayed God he had not seen me. + +He walked up to the captain and said gruffly, "You are a, wise man, +monsieur. It is no good fighting against the impossible." + +"I know it, or I'd have seen you damned before I'd have struck to you," +growled the old man sourly. + +"Quite so! Now, your papers, if you please, and quick!" and the captain +turned to go for them. + +All this I heard mazily, for my head was still whirring with its discovery. + +Then, without a sign of warning, like one jerked by sudden instinct, Torode +turned, pushed through the double row of men behind whom I had shrunk--and +they opened quickly enough at his approach--and raising his great fist +struck me to the deck like an ox. + +When I came to I was lying in a bunk, bound hand and foot. My head was +aching badly, and close above me on deck great traffic was going on between +the ship and the schooner, transferring choice pickings of the cargo, I +supposed, when my senses got slowly to work again. + +But why was I there--and still alive? That was a puzzle beyond me +entirely. By all rights, and truly according to my expectation, I should +have been a dead man. Why was I here, and unharmed, save for a singing +head? + +Puzzle as I might, I had nothing to go upon and could make nothing of it. +But since I was still alive, hope grew in me. For it would have been no +more trouble to Torode to kill me--less indeed. And since he had not, it +could only be because he had other views. + +For a long time the shuffling tread of laden men went on close above my +head--for hours, I suppose. The sun was sinking when at last the heel and +swing of the schooner told me we were loosed and away. + +No shot had been fired, save the first one calling the Indiaman to stop, +and the second one that drove the command home. To that extent I had been +of service to them, bitter as surrender without a fight had been, for an +utterly impossible resistance could only have ended one way and after much +loss of life. + +Long after it was dark a man came in with a lantern and a big bowl of soup, +good soup such as we get in the Islands, and half a loaf of bread, and a +pannikin of water. He set the things beside me, and untied my hands, and +placed the light so that it fell upon me, and stood patching me till I had +finished. + +From his size I thought it was Torode himself, but he never opened his +mouth, nor I mine, except to put food into it. When I had done, he tied my +hands again and went out. + +I slept like a top that night, in spite of it all, and felt better in the +morning and not without hope. For, as a rule, civilised men, ruffians +though they may be, do not feed those they are going to kill. They kill and +have done with it. + +The same man brought me coffee and bread and meat, and stood watching me +again with his back to the porthole while I ate. + +It was, as I had thought, Torode himself, and I would have given all I +possessed--which indeed was not overmuch--to know what was passing +concerning me in that great black head of his. But I did not ask him, for I +should not have expected him to tell me. I just ate and drank every scrap +of what he brought me, with as cheerful an air as I could compass, and +thanked him politely when I had done. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +HOW I LAY IN THE CLEFT OF A ROCK + + +On the third day of my confinement, and as near as I could tell about +midday, the small round porthole of my cabin was suddenly darkened by a +flap of sail let down from above, purposely I judged, and shortly +afterwards I found the ship was at rest. + +It was after dark when Torode came in, and, without a word, bandaged my +eyes tightly, and then called in two of his men, who shouldered me, and +carried me up the companion and laid me in a boat. The passage was a short +one, about as far I thought as, say, from the anchorage at Herm to the +landing-place. Then they shouldered me again, and stumbled up a rocky way +and along a passage where their feet echoed hollowly, and finally laid me +down and went away. Torode untied my hands and feet and took off the +bandage. + +By the light of his lantern I saw that I was in a rock room, with rough +natural walls, and sweet salt air blowing in from the farther end. There +was food and water, and a mattress and blanket. He left me without a word, +and locked behind him a grating of stout iron bars which filled all the +space between floor and roof. I was long past puzzling over the meaning of +it all. I ate my food, and lay down and slept. + +A shaft of sunlight awoke me, and I examined my new prison with care. It +was a bit of a natural rock passage, such as I had often seen on Sercq, +formed, I have been told, by the decay of some softer material between two +masses of rock. It was about eight feet wide, and the roof, some twenty +feet above my head, was formed by the falling together of the sides which +sloped and narrowed somewhat at the entrance. In length, my room was thirty +paces from the iron grating to the opening in the face of the cliff. This +opening also was strongly barred with iron. The floor of the passage broke +off sharply there, and when I worked out a piece of rock from the side +wall, and dropped it through the bars, it seemed to fall straight into the +sea, a good hundred feet below. The left-hand wall stopped a foot beyond +the iron bars, but at the right hand the rock wall ran on for twenty feet +or so, then turned across the front of my window and so obscured the +outlook. I hated that rock wall for cutting off my view, but it was almost +all I had to look at, and before I said good-bye to it I knew every tendril +of every fern that grew on it, and the colours of all the veins that ran +through it, and of the close-creeping lichen that clothed it in patches. + +By squeezing hard against the bars where they were let into the rock on the +right, I found I could just get a glimpse of the free blue sea rolling and +tossing outside, and by dint of observation and much careful watching I +learned where I was. + +For, away out there among the tumbling blue waves, I could just make out a +double-headed rock which the tide never covered, and I recognised it as the +_Grand Amfroque,_ one of our steering points in Great Russel. + +So, then, I was in Herm, not four miles away from Brecqhou, and though, +for any benefit the knowledge was to me, I might as well have been in +America itself, it still warmed my heart to think that Carette was there, +and almost within sight but for that wretched wall of rock. If fiery +longing could melt solid rock, that barrier had disappeared in the +twinkling of an eye. + +The time passed very slowly with me. I spent most of it against the bars, +peering out at the sea. Once or twice distant boats passed across my narrow +view, and I wondered who were in them. And I thought sadly of the folk in +Peter Port still looking hopefully for the _Swallow_, and following her +possible fortunes, and wishing her good luck--and she and all her crew, +except myself, at the bottom of the sea, as foully murdered as ever men in +this world were. + +Twice each day Torode himself brought me food and watched me steadfastly +while I ate it. His oversight and interest never seemed to slacken. At +first it troubled me, but there was in it nothing whatever of the captor +gloating over his prisoner; simply, as far as I could make out, a gloomy +desire to note how I took matters, which put me on my mettle to keep up a +bold front, though my heart was heavy enough at times at the puzzling +strangeness of it all. + +I thought much of Carette and my mother, and my grandfather and Krok, and I +walked each day for hours, to and fro, to and fro, to keep myself from +falling sick or going stupid. But the time passed slower than time had ever +gone with me before, and I grew sick to death of that narrow cleft in the +rock. + +By a mark I made on the wall for each day of my stay there, it was on the +tenth day that Torode first spoke to me as I ate my dinner. + +"Listen!" he said, so unexpectedly, after his strange silence, that I +jumped in spite of myself. + +"Once you asked to join us and I refused. Now you must join us--or die. I +have no desire for your death, but--well--you understand." + +"When I asked to join you I believed you honest privateers. You are thieves +and murderers. I would sooner die than join you now." + +"You are young to die so." + +"Go where you can, die when you must," I answered in our Island saying. +"Better die young than live to dishonour." + +He picked up my dishes and went out. But I could not see why he should have +kept me alive so long for the purpose of killing me now, and I would not +let my courage down. + +One more attempt he made, three days later, without a word having passed +between us meanwhile. + +"Your time is running out, mon gars," he said, as abruptly as before. "I am +loth to put you away, but it rests with yourself. You love Le Marchant's +girl, Carette. Join us, and you shall have her. You will live with us on +Herm, and in due time, when we have money enough, we will give up this life +and start anew elsewhere." + +"Carette is an honest girl--" + +"She need not know--all that you know." + +"And your son wants her--" + +When you have had no one to speak to but yourself for fourteen days, the +voice even of a man you hate is not to be despised. You may even make him +talk for the sake of hearing him. + +"I know it," said Torode. "I hear she favours you, but a dead man is no +good. If you don't get her, as sure as the sun is in the sky the boy shall +have her." + +"Even so I will not join you." + +"And that is your last word?" + +"My last word. I will not join you. I have lived honest. I will die +honest." + +"Soit!" he growled, and went away, leaving me to somewhat gloomier +thoughts. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +HOW I FACED DEATHS AND LIVED + + +On the sixteenth day of my imprisonment I had stood against my bars till +the last faint glow of the sunset faded off a white cloud in the east, and +all outside had become gray and dim, and my room was quite dark. I had had +my second meal, and looked as usual for no further diversion till breakfast +next morning. But of a sudden I heard heavy feet outside my door, and +Torode came in with a lantern, followed by two of his men. + +"You are still of that mind?" he asked, as though we had discussed the +matter but five minutes before. + +"Yes." + +"Then your time is up;" and at a word from him the men bound my hands and +feet as before, tied a cloth over my eyes, and carried me off along the +rocky way--to my death I doubted not. + +To the schooner first in any case, though why they could not kill a man on +shore as easily as at sea surprised me. Though, to be sure, a man's body is +more easily and cleanly disposed of at sea than on shore, and leaves no +mark behind it. + +I was placed in the same bunk as before, and fell asleep wondering how soon +the end of this strange business would come, but sure that it would not be +long. + +I was wakened in the morning by the crash of the big guns, and surmised +that we had run across something. I heard answering guns and more +discharges of our own, then the lowering of a boat, and presently my +porthole was obscured as the schooner ground against another vessel. + +Then the unexpected happened, in a furious fusillade of small arms from the +other ship. Treachery had evidently met treachery, and Death had his hands +full. + +From the shouting aboard the other ship I felt sure they were Frenchmen, +and glad as I was at thought of these ruffians getting paid in their own +coin, and fit as it might be to meet cunning with cunning, I was yet glad +that the payment was French and not English. + +Of the first issue, however, I had small doubts in view of Torode's long +guns and merciless methods, and though I could see nothing, with our own +experiences red in my mind, I could still follow what happened. + +The schooner sheared off, and presently the long guns got to work with +their barbarous shot, and pounded away venomously, till I could well +imagine what the state of that other ship must be. + +When we ranged alongside again, no word greeted us. There was traffic +between the two ships, and when we cast off I heard the crackling of +flames. + +Then there was much sluicing of water above my head, as our decks were +washed down, and presently there came a rattling of boards which puzzled me +much, until the end of one dipped suddenly across my porthole, and my +straining wits suggested that Torode was changing his stripes and becoming +a Frenchman once more. + +The next day passed without any happening, and I lay racking my brain for +reasons why one spot of sea should not be as good as another for dropping a +man's body into. + +But on the day after that, Torode came suddenly in on me in the afternoon, +and looking down on me as I lay, he said roughly-- + +"Listen, you, Carre! By every reason possible you should die, but--well, I +am going to give you chance of life. It is only a chance, but your death +will not lie at my door, as it would do here. Now here is my last word. You +know more than is good for me. If ever you disclose what you know, whether +you come back or not, I will blot out all you hold dear in Sercq from top +to bottom, though I have to bring the Frenchmen down to do it. You +understand?" + +"I understand." + +"Be advised, then, and keep a close mouth." + +I was blindfolded and carried out and laid in a waiting boat, which crossed +to another vessel, and I was passed up the side, and down a gangway, amid +the murmur of many voices. + +When my eyes and bonds were loosed I found myself among a rough crowd of +men in the 'tween decks of a large ship. The air was dim and close. From +the row of heavy guns and great ports, several of which were open, I knew +her to be a battleship and of large size. From the gabble of talk all round +me I knew she was French. + +After the first minute or two no one paid me any attention. All were intent +on their own concerns. I sat down on the carriage of the nearest gun and +looked about me. + +The company was such as one would have looked for on a ship of the +Republic--coarse and free in its manners, and loud of talk. They were +probably most of them pressed men, not more than one day out, and looked on +me only as a belated one of themselves. There was--for the moment at all +events--little show of discipline. They all talked at once, and wrangled +and argued, and seemed constantly on the point of blows; but it all went +off in words, and no harm was done. But to me, who had barely heard a +spoken word for close on twenty days, the effect was stunning, and I could +only sit and watch dazedly, while my head spun round with the uproar. + +Food was served out presently--well-cooked meat and sweet coarse bread, and +a mug of wine to every man, myself among the rest. There was no lessening +of the noise while they ate and drank, and I ate with the rest, and by +degrees found my thoughts working reasonably. + +I was at all events alive, and it is better to be alive than dead. + +I was on a French ship of war, and that, from all points of view, save one, +was better than being on a King's ship. + +The one impossible point in the matter was that I was an Englishman on a +ship whose mission in life must be to fight Englishmen. And that I never +would do, happen what might, and it seemed to me that the sooner this +matter was settled the better. + +Discipline on a ship under the Republican flag was, I knew, very different +from that on our own ships. The principles of Liberty, Equality, and +Fraternity, if getting somewhat frayed and threadbare, still tempered the +treatment of the masses, and so long as men reasonably obeyed orders, and +fought when the time came, little more was expected of them, and they were +left very much to themselves. + +That was no doubt the reason why I had not so far, since I recovered my +wits, come across anyone in authority, which I was now exceedingly anxious +to do. + +It was almost dark, outside the ship as well as inside, when I spied one +who seemed, from his dress and bearing, something above the rest, and I +made my way to him. + +"Will you be so good as to tell me where I sleep, monsieur?" I asked. + +"Same place as you slept last night, my son." + +"I would be quite willing--" + +"Ah tiens! you are the latest bird." + +"At your service, monsieur." + +"Come with me, and I'll get you a hammock and show you where to sling it." + +And as he was getting it for me, I asked him the name of the ship and where +she was going. + +"The _Josephine_, 40-gun frigate, bound for the West Indies." + +Then I proffered my request-- + +"Can you procure me an interview with the captain, monsieur?" + +"What for?" + +"I have some information to give him--information of importance." + +"You can give it to me." + +"No--to the captain himself, or to no one." + +He looked at me critically and said curtly, "B'en, mon gars, we will see!" +which might mean anything--threat or promise. But my thoughts during the +night only confirmed me in my way. + +Next morning after breakfast the same man came seeking me. + +"Come then," he said, "and say your say," and he led me along to the +quarterdeck, where the captain stood with some of his officers. He was a +tall, good-looking man, very handsomely dressed. I came to know him later +as Captain Charles Duchatel. + +"This is the man, M. le capitaine," said my guide, pushing me to the front. + +"Well, my man," said the captain, pleasantly enough, "what is the important +information you have to give me?" + +"M. le capitaine will perhaps permit me to explain, in the first place, +that I am an Englishman," said I, with a bow. + +"Truly you speak like one, mon gars," he laughed. + +"That is because I am of the Norman Isles, monsieur. I am from Sercq, by +Guernsey." + +"Well!" he nodded. + +"And therefore monsieur will see that it is not possible for me to fight +against my own country." And I went on quickly, in spite of the frown I saw +gathering on his face. "I will do any duty put upon me to the best of my +power, but fight against my country I cannot." + +He looked at me curiously, and said sharply, "A sailor on board ship obeys +orders. Is it not so?" + +"Surely, monsieur. But I am a prisoner. And as an Englishman I cannot fight +against my country. Could monsieur do so in like case?" + +"This is rank mutiny, you know." + +"I do not mean it so, monsieur, I assure you." + +"And was this the important information you had to give me?" + +"No, monsieur, it was this. The man who brought me prisoner on board +here,--monsieur knows him?" + +"Undoubtedly! He has made himself known." + +"Better perhaps than you imagine, monsieur. The merchants of Havre and +Cherbourg will thank you for this that I tell you now. Torode to the +English, Main Rouge to the French--he lives on Herm, the next isle to +Sercq, where I myself live. He is the most successful privateer in all +these waters. And why? I will tell you, monsieur. It is because he robs +French ships as an English privateer, and English ships as a French +privateer. He changes his skin as he goes and plunders under both flags." + +"Really! That is a fine fairy tale. On my word it is worthy almost of La +Fontaine himself. And what proof do you offer of all this, my man?" + +"Truly none, monsieur, except myself--that I am here for knowing it." + +"And Main Rouge knew that you knew it?" + +"That is why I am here, monsieur." + +"And alive! Main Rouge is no old woman, my man." + +"It is a surprise to me that I still live, monsieur, and I cannot explain +it. He has had me in confinement for three weeks, expecting to die each +day, since he sank our schooner and shot our men in the water as they swam +for their lives. Why, of all our crew, I live, I do not know." + +"It is the strongest proof we have that what you tell me is untrue." + +"And yet I tell it at risk of more than my life, monsieur. Torode's last +words to me were that if I opened my mouth he would smite my kin in Sercq +till not one was left." + +"And he told me you were such an inveterate liar and troublesome fellow +that he had had enough of you, and only did not kill you because of your +people, whom he knows," he said, with a knowing smile. + +Torode's forethought staggered me somewhat, but I looked the captain +squarely in the face and said, "I am no liar, monsieur, and I have had no +dealings with the man save as his prisoner." But I could not tell whether +he believed me or not. + +"And your mind is made up not to obey orders?" he asked, after a moment's +thought. + +"I cannot lift a hand against my country, monsieur." + +"Place him under arrest," he said quietly, to the man who had brought me +there. "I will see to him later;" and I had but exchanged one imprisonment +for another. + +That was as dismal a night as ever I spent, with no ray of hope to lighten +my darkness, and only the feeling that I could have done no other, to keep +me from breaking down entirely. + +What the result would be I could not tell, but from the captain's point of +view I thought he would be justified in shooting me, and would probably do +so as a warning to the rest. He evidently did not believe a word I said, +and I could not greatly blame him. + +I thought of them all at home, but mostly of my mother and of Carette. I +had little expectation of ever seeing them again, but I was sure they would +not have had me act otherwise. It was what my grandfather would have done, +placed as I was, and no man could do better than that. Most insistently my +thoughts were of Carette and those bright early days on Sercq, and black as +all else was, those remembrances shone like jewels in my mind. And when at +times I thought of Torode and his stupendous treachery, my heart was like +to burst with helpless rage. I scarcely closed my eyes, and in the morning +felt old and weary. + +About midday they came for me, and I was content that the end had come. +They led me to the waist of the ship, where the whole company was +assembled, and there they stripped me to the waist and bound my wrists to a +gun carriage. + +It was little relief to me to know that I was to be flogged, for the lash +degrades, and breaks a man's spirit even more than his body. Even if +undeserved, the brand remains, and can never be forgotten. It seemed to me +then that I would as lief be shot and have done with it. + +The captain eyed me keenly. + +"Well," he asked, "you are still of the same mind? You still will not +fight?" + +"Not against my own country--not though you flog me to ribbons, monsieur." + +The cat rested lightly on my back as the man who held it waited for the +word. + +Then, as I braced myself for the first stroke, which would be the hardest +to bear, the captain said quietly to the officer next to him, "Perhaps as +well end it at once. Send a file of marines--" and they walked a few steps +beyond my hearing, for the blood belled in my ears and blurred my eyes so +that my last sight of earth was like to be a dim one. + +"Cast him loose and bandage his eyes," said the captain, and they set me +standing against the side of the ship and tied a white cloth over my eyes. + +I heard clearly enough now and with a quickened sense. I heard them range +the men opposite to me--I hard the tiny clicking of the rings on the +muskets as the men handled them--the breathing of those who looked on--the +soft wash of the sea behind. But as far as was in me I faced them without +flinching, for in truth I had given myself up and was thinking only of +Carette and my mother and my grandfather, and was sending them farewell and +a last prayer for their good. + +"Are you ready?" asked the captain. "You will fire when I drop the +handkerchief. You--prisoner--for the last time--yes or no?" + +I shook my head, for I feared lest my voice should betray me. Let none but +him who has faced this coldest of deaths cast a stone at me. + +"Present! Fire!"--the last words I expected to hear on earth. The muskets +rang out--but I stood untouched. + +The captain walked across to me, whipped off the bandage, and clapped me +soundly on the bare shoulder. "You are a brave boy, and I take as truth +every word you have told me. If we come to fighting with your countrymen +you shall tend our wounded. As to _Red Hand_--when we return home we will +attend to him. Now, mon gars, to your duty!" and to my amazement I was +alive, unflogged, and believed. + +Perhaps it was a harsh test and an over cruel jest. But the man had no +means of coming at the truth, and if he had shot me none could have said a +word against it. + +For me, I said simply, "I thank you, monsieur," and went to my duty. + +My shipmates were for making much of me, in their rough and excited way, +but I begged them to leave me to myself for a time, till I was quite sure +I was still alive. And they did so at last, and I heard them debating among +themselves how it could be that an Englishman could speak French as freely +as they did themselves. + +I had no cause to complain of my treatment on board the _Josephine_ after +that. The life was far less rigorous than on our own ships, and the living +far more ample. If only I could have sent word of my welfare to those at +home, who must by this time, I knew, be full of fears for me, I could have +been fairly content. The future, indeed, was full of uncertainty, but it is +that at best, and my heart was set on escape the moment the chance offered. + +I went about my work with the rest, and took a certain pride in showing +them how a British seaman could do his duty. Our curious introduction had +given Captain Duchatel an interest in me. I often caught his eye upon me, +and now and again he dropped me a word which was generally a cheerful +challenge as to my resolution, and I always replied in kind. Recollections +of those days crowd my mind as I look back on them, but they are not what I +set out to tell, and greater matters lay just ahead. + +With wonderful luck, and perhaps by taking a very outside course, we +escaped the British cruisers, and arrived safely in Martinique, and there +we lay for close on four months, with little to do but be in readiness for +attacks which never came. + +The living was good. Fresh meat and fruit were abundant, and we were +allowed ashore in batches. And so the time passed pleasantly enough, but +for the fact that one was an exile, and that those at home must be in +sorrow and suspense, and had probably long since given up all hope of +seeing their wanderer again. For this time was not as the last. They would +expect news of us within a few weeks of our sailing, and the utter +disappearance of the _Swallow_ could hardly leave them ground for hope. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +HOW THE _JOSEPHINE_ CAME HOME + + +I had ample time to look my prospects in the face while we kept watch and +ward on Martinique, and no amount of looking improved them. + +My greatest hope was to return to French and English waters in the +_Josephine_. I could perhaps have slipped away into the island, but that +would in no way have furthered my getting home, rather would it have +fettered me with new and tighter bonds. For in the end I must have boarded +some English ship and been promptly pressed into the service, and that was +by no means what I wanted. It was my own Island of Sercq I longed for, and +all that it held and meant for me. + +I saw clearly that if at any time we came to a fight with a British +warship, and were captured, I must become either prisoner of war as a +Frenchman, or pressed man as an Englishman. Neither position held out hope +of a speedy return home, but, of the two, I favoured the first as offering +perhaps the greater chances. + +As the weeks passed into months, all of the same dull pattern, I lost heart +at times, thinking of all that might be happening at home. + +Sometimes it seemed to me hardly possible that Torode would dare to go on +living at Herm and playing that desperate game of the double flags, while +somewhere one man lived who might turn up at any time and blow him to the +winds. And in pondering the matter, the fact that he had spared that man's +life became a greater puzzle to me than ever. Depressing, too, the thought +that if he did so stop on, it was because he considered the measures he had +taken for his own safety as effective as death itself, and he was +undoubtedly a shrewd and far-thinking man. That meant that my chances of +ever turning up again in Sercq were small indeed. And, on the other hand, +if a wholesome discretion drove him to the point of flitting, I had reason +enough to fear for Carette. He had vowed his son should have her, and both +father and son were men who would stick at nothing to gain their ends. + +So my thoughts were black enough. I grew homesick, and heart-sick, and +there were many more in the same condition, and maybe, to themselves, with +equal cause. + +Just four months we had been there, when one morning an old-fashioned +20-gun corvette came wallowing in, and an hour later we knew that she had +come to relieve us and we were to sail for home as soon as we were +provisioned. Work went with a will, for every man on board was sick of the +place in spite of the easy living and good faring, and we were at sea +within forty-eight hours. The word between-decks, too, was that Bonaparte +was about to conquer England, and we were hurrying back to take part in the +great invasion. The spirits and the talk ran to excess at times. I neither +took part in it nor resented it. My alien standing was almost forgotten +through the constant companionship of common tasks, and I saw no profit in +flaunting it, though my determination not to lift a hand against my country +was as strong as ever. + +We had a prosperous voyage of thirty-five days, and were within two days' +sail of Cherbourg, when we sighted a ship of war which had apparently had +longer or quicker eyes than our own. She was coming straight for us when we +became aware of her, and she never swerved from her course till her great +guns began to play on us under British colours. + +True to those colours, as soon as her standing was fixed, I made my way to +Captain Duchatel to claim performance of his promise. + +I had no need to put it into words. The moment I saluted, he said, "Ah, +yes. So you stick to it?" + +I saluted again, without speaking. + +"Bien! Go to the surgeon and tell him you are to help him. There will be +work for you all before long." + +And there was. The story of a fight, from the cock-pit point of view, would +be very horrible telling, and that is all I saw. I heard the thunder of our +own guns, and the shouts of our men, and the splintering crash of the heavy +shot that came aboard of us. But before long, when the streams of wounded +began to come our way, I heard nothing but gasps and groans, and saw +nothing but horrors which I would fain blot out of my memory, but cannot, +even now. + +I had seen wounded men before. I had been wounded myself. But seeing men +fall, torn and mangled in the heat of fight, with the red fury blazing in +one's own veins, and the smoke and smell of battle pricking in one's +nostrils, and death in the very air--that is one thing. But tending those +broken remnants of men in cold blood--handling them, and the pitiful parts +of them, rent torn and out of the very semblance of humanity by the +senseless shot--ah!--that was a very different thing. May I never see it +again! + +If my face showed anything of what I felt I must have looked a very sick +man. But the surgeon's face was as white as paper and as grim as death, and +when he jerked out a word it was through his set teeth, as though he feared +more might come if he opened his mouth. + +We worked like giants down there, but could not keep pace with Giant Death +above. Before long all the passages were filled with shattered men; and +with no distinct thought of it, because there was time to think of nothing +but what was under one's hand, it seemed to me that the fight must be going +against us, for surely, if things went on so much longer, there would be +none of our men left. + +Then with a grinding crash, and a recoil that sent our broken men in +tumbled heaps, the two ships grappled, and above our gasps and groans we +heard the yells and cheers of the boarding parties and their repellers, and +presently from among the broken men brought down to us, a rough voice, +which still sounded homely to my ears, groaned-- + +"Oh,--you-- ---- Johnnies! One more swig o' rum an' I'd go easy," and he +groaned dolorously. + +I mixed a pannikin of rum and water and placed it to his lips. He drank +greedily, looked up at me with wide-staring eyes, gasped, "Well ----! my +God!"--and died. + +Captain Duchatel, as I heard afterwards, and as we ourselves might then +judge by the results that came down to us, made a gallant fight of it. And +that is no less than I would have looked for from him. He was a brave man, +and his treatment of myself might have been very much worse than it had +been. But he was overmatched, and suffered too, when the time of crisis +came, from the lack of that severe discipline which made our English ships +of war less comfortable to live in but more effective when the time for +fighting came. I had often wondered how all the miscellaneous gear which +crowded our 'tween decks would be got rid of in case of a fight, or, if not +got rid of, how they could possibly handle their guns properly. I have +since been told that what I saw on the _Josephine_ was common elsewhere in +the French ships of war, and often told sorely against them in a fight. + +But in such matters Captain Duchatel only did as others did, and the fault +lay with the system rather than with the man. For myself I hold his name in +highest gratitude and reverence, for he crowned his good treatment of me by +one most kindly and thoughtful act at the supremest moment of his life. + +I was soaked in other men's blood from head to foot, and looked and felt +like a man in a slaughterhouse. I was drawing into a corner, as decently as +I could, the mangled remnants of a man who had died as they laid him down. +I straightened my stiff back for a second and stood with my hands on my +hips, and at that moment Captain Duchatel came running down the stairway, +with a face like stone and a pistol in his hand. + +He glanced at me. I saluted. He knew me through my stains. + +"Sauvez-vous, mon brave! C'est fini!" he said quietly through his teeth. + +A great thing to do!--a most gracious and noble thing! In his own final +extremity to think of another's life as not rightly forfeit to necessity or +country. + +I understood in a flash, and sped up the decks--with not one second to +spare. The upper deck was a shambles. I scrambled up the bulwark straight +in front and sprang out as far as I could. Before I struck the water I +heard the roar of a mighty explosion behind, and dived to avoid the after +effects. When I came up, the sea all round was thrashing under a hail of +falling timbers and fragments, but mostly beyond me because I was so close +in to the ship. I took one big breath and sank again, and then a mighty +swirling grip, which felt like death itself, laid hold on me and dragged me +down and down till I looked to come up no more. + +It let me go at last, and I fought my way up through fathomless heights of +rushing green waters, with the very last ounce that was in me, and lay +spent on my back with bursting head and breaking heart, staring straight up +into a great cloud of smoke which uncoiled itself slowly like a mighty +plume and let the blue sky show through in patches. + +After the thunder of the guns, and that awful final crash, everything +seemed strangely still. The water lapped in my ears, but I felt it rather +than heard. Without lifting my head I could see, not far away, the ship we +had fought, gaunt, stark, the ruins of the masterful craft that had raced +so boldly for us two hours before. Her rigging was a vast tangle of loose +ropes and broken spars, and some of her drooping sails were smouldering. +Her trim black-and-white sides were shattered and scorched and blackened. +It looked as though she had sheered off just a moment before the explosion, +and so had missed the full force of it, but still had suffered terribly. +Some of her lower sails still stood, and her crew were busily at work +cutting loose the raffle and beating out the flames. But damaged as their +own ship was, they still had thought for possible survivors of their enemy, +and two boats dropped into the water as I looked, and came picking their +way through the floating wreckage, with kneeling men in the bows examining +everything they saw. + +They promptly lifted me in, and from their lips I saw that they spoke to +me. But I was encased in silence and could not hear a sound. + +I had long since made up my mind that if we were captured I would take my +chance as prisoner of war rather than risk being shot as a renegade or +pressed into the King's service. For it seemed to me that the chances of +being shot were considerable, since none would credit my story that I had +been five months aboard a French warship except of my own free will. And as +to the King's forced service, it was hated by all, and my own needs claimed +my first endeavours. + +So I answered them in French, in a voice that thundered in my head, that +the explosion had deafened me and I could not hear a word they said. They +understood and nodded cheerfully, and went on with their search. + +Out of our whole ship's company six only were saved, and not one of them +officers. + +In the first moments of safety the lack of hearing had seemed to me of +small account, compared with the fact that I was still alive. But, as we +turned and made for the ship, the strange sensation of hearing only through +the feelings of the body grew upon me; the thought of perpetual silence +began to appal me. I could feel the sound of the oars in the rowlocks, and +the dash of the waves against the boat, but though I could see men's lips +moving it was all no more to me than dumb show. + +They were busily cleaning the ship when we came aboard, but I could see +what a great fight the _Josephine_ had made of it. A long row of dead lay +waiting decent burial, and every second man one saw was damaged in one way +or another. + +My companions were all more or less dazed, and probably deafened like +myself. An officer questioned them, but apparently with small success. He +turned to me, and I told him I could hear nothing because of the explosion, +but I gave him all particulars as to the _Josephine_,--captain's name, +number of men and guns, and whence we came, and that was what he wanted. + +In the official report the saving of six out of a crew of over three +hundred was, I suppose, not considered worth mentioning. The _Josephine_, +was reported sunk with all on board, and that, as it turned out, was not +without its concern for me. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +HOW I LAY AMONG LOST SOULS + + +The ship we were on was the 48-gun frigate _Swiftsure_, and of our +treatment we had no reason to complain. We were landed at Portsmouth two +days later, drafted from one full prison to another, from Forton to the Old +Mill at Plymouth, from Plymouth to Stapleton near Bristol, separated by +degrees and circumstances, till at last I found myself one more lost soul +in the great company that filled the temporary war prison, known among its +inmates and the people of that countryside as Amperdoo. + +It lay apart from humanity, in a district of fens and marshes, across +which, in the winter time, the east wind swept furiously in from the North +Sea, some thirty miles away. It cut like a knife--to the very bone. I hear +it still of a night in my dreams, and wake up and thank God that after all +it is only our own gallant south-wester, which, if somewhat unreasonably +boisterous at times, and over fond of showing what it can do, is still an +honest wind, and devoid of treachery. For we were but ill-clad at best, and +were always lacking in the matter of fuel, and many other things that make +for comfort. Whatever we might be at other times, when the east wind blew +in from the sea we were, every man of us, _ames perdues_ in very truth, +and I marvel sometimes that any of us saw the winter through. + +The prison was a huge enclosure surrounded by a high wooden stockade. +Inside this was another stockade, and between the two armed guards paced +day and night. In the inner ring were a number of long wooden houses in +which we lived, if that could be called living which for most was but a +weary dragging on of existence bare of hope and love, and sorely trying at +times to one's faith in one's fellows and almost in God Himself. For the +misery and suffering enclosed within that sharp-toothed circle of unbarked +posts were enough to crush a man's spirit and sicken his heart. + +In the summer pestilential fevers and agues crept out of the marshes and +wasted us. In the winter the east winds wrung our bones and our hearts. And +summer and winter alike, the Government contractors, or those employed by +them, waxed fat on their contracts, which, if honestly carried out, would +have kept us in reasonable content. + +How some among my fellow-prisoners managed to keep up their hearts, and to +maintain even fairly cheerful faces, was a source of constant amazement to +me. They had, I think, a genius for turning to account the little things of +life and making the most of them, outwardly at all events. But the +cheerfulness of those who refused to break down, even though it might be +but skin-deep and subject to sudden blight, was still better than the utter +misery and despair which prevailed elsewhere. + +Outwardly, then, when the sun shone and one's bones were warm, our company +might seem almost gay at times, joking, laughing, singing, gambling. But +these things covered many a sick heart, and there were times when the +heart-sickness prevailed over all else, and we lay in corners apart, and +loathed our fellows and wished we were dead. + +I say we, but, in truth, in these, and all other matters, except the +regular routine of living, I was for a considerable time kept apart from my +fellows by the deafness brought on by the explosion. I lived in a little +soundless world of my own with those dearest to me,--Carette, and my +mother, and my grandfather, and Krok, and Jeanne Falla, and George Hamon. +And if I needed further company, I could people the grim stockade with old +friends out of those four most wonderful books of my grandfather's. And +very grateful was I now for the insistence which had made me read them +times without number, and for the scarcity which had limited me to them +till I knew parts of them almost by heart. + +Outwardly, indeed, I might seem loneliest of the company, for cards and +dice had never greatly attracted me, and to risk upon a turn of the one or +a throw of the other the absolute necessaries of life, which were the only +things of value we possessed as a rule, seemed to me most incredible folly. +Possibly the personal value of the stakes added zest to the game, for they +wrangled bitterly at times, and more than once fought to the death over the +proper ownership of articles which would have been dearly bought for an +English shilling. But the loss of even these trifling things, since they +meant starvation, inside or out, made all the difference in the world to +the losers, and cut them to the quick, and led to hot disputations. + +And, though I strove to maintain a cheerful demeanour, which was not always +easy when the wind blew from the east, my deafness relieved me of any +necessity of joining in that mask of merriment, which, as I have said, as +often as not covered very sick hearts. For though a merry face is better +than a sad one, I take it to be the part of an honest man to bear himself +simply as he is, and the honest sad faces drew me more than the merry +masked ones through which the bones of our skeletons peeped grisly enough +at times. + +Thoughts of escape occupied some of us, but for most it was out of the +question. For, even if they could have got out of the enclosure and passed +the sentries, their foreign speech and faces must have betrayed them at +once outside. + +To myself, however, that did not so fully apply. In appearance I might +easily pass as an English sailor, and the English speech came almost as +readily to my tongue as my own. It was with vague hopes in that direction, +and also as a means of passing the long dull days, that I began carving +bits of bone into odd shapes, and, when suitable pieces offered, into +snuffboxes, which I sold to the country-folk who came in with provisions. +At first my rough attempts produced but pence, and then, as greater skill +came with practice, shillings, and so I began to accumulate a small store +of money against the time I should need it outside. + +In building the prison in so marshy a district, advantage had been taken of +a piece of rising ground. The enclosure was built round it, so that the +middle stood somewhat higher than the sides, and standing on that highest +part one could see over the sharp teeth of the stockade and all round the +countryside. + +That wide view was not without a charm of its own, though its long dull +levels grew wearisome to eyes accustomed only to the bold headlands and +sharp scarps of Sercq, or to the ever-changing sea. For miles all round +were marshes where nothing seemed to grow but tussocks of long wiry grass, +with great pools and channels of dark water in between. Far away beyond +them there were clumps of trees in places, and farther away still one saw +here and there the spire of a church a great way off. + +When we came there the wiry grass was yellow and drooping, like bent and +rusted bayonets, and the pools were black and sullen, and the sky was gray +and lowering and very dismal. And in Sercq the rocks were golden in the +sunshine, the headlands were great soft cushions of velvet turf, the +heather purpled all the hillsides, and the tall bracken billowed under the +west wind. And on the gray rocks below, the long waves flung themselves in +a wild abandon of delight, and shouted aloud because they were free. + +Then the east winds came, and all the face of things blanched like the face +of death, with coarse hairs sticking up out of it here and there. The pools +and ditches were white with ice, and all the countryside lay stiff and +stark, a prisoner bound in chains and iron. To stand there looking at it +for even five minutes made one's backbone rattle for half a day. And yet, +even then, in Sercq the sun shone soft and warm, the sky and sea were blue, +the fouaille was golden-brown on the hillside, the young gorse was showing +pale on the Eperquerie, and the Butcher's Broom on Tintageu was brilliant +with scarlet berries. + +To any man--even to our warders--Amperdoo was a desolation akin to death. +To many a weary prisoner it proved death itself and so the gate to wider +life. To one man it was purgatory but short removed from hell, and that he +came through it unscathed was due to that which he had at first regarded as +a misfortune, but which, by shutting him into a world of his own with those +he loved, kept his heart sweet and fresh and unassoiled. + +In time, indeed, my hearing gradually returned, and long before I left the +prison it was quite recovered. But before it came back the habit of +loneliness had grown upon me, and there was little temptation to break +through it, and I lived much within myself. + +Many the nights I sought my hammock as soon as the daylight faded, and lay +there thinking of them all at home. To open my eyes was to look on a mob of +crouching figures by the distant fire, wrangling as it seemed--for I could +not hear them--over their cards and dice. But--close my eyes, and in a +moment I was in Jeanne Falla's great kitchen at Beaumanoir, with Carette +perched up on the side of the green-bed, swinging her feet and knitting +blue wool, and Aunt Jeanne herself, kneeling in the wide hearth in the glow +of the flaming gorse, seeing to her cooking and flashing her merry wisdom +at us with twinkling eyes. Or--in the glimmer of the dawn, my eyes would +open drearily on the rows and rows of hammocks in the long wooden room, +every single hammock a stark bundle of misery and suffering. And I would +close them again and draw the blanket tight over my head, and--we were boy +and girl again, splashing barefoot in the warm pools under the Autelets; +or--we were lying in the sunshine in the sweet short herbs of the +headlands, with kicking heels and light hair all mixed up with dark, as we +laid our heads together and plotted mischiefs; or, side by side, with +gleaming brown faces, and free unfettered limbs as white as our thoughts, +we slipped through the writhing coils of the Gouliot, and hung panting to +the honeycombed rocks while the tide hissed and whispered in the long +tresses of the seaweed. + +My clearest and dearest recollections were of those earlier days, before +any fixed hopes and ideas had brought with them other possibilities. But I +thought too of Jeanne Falla's party, and of young Torode, and I wondered +and wondered what might be happening over there, with me given up for dead +and Torode free to work his will so far as he was able. + +Some comfort I found in thought of Aunt Jeanne, in whose wisdom I had much +faith; and in George Hamon, who knew my hopes and hated Torode; and in my +mother and my grandfather and Krok, who would render my love every help she +might ask, but were not so much in the way of it as the others. But, if +they all deemed me dead,--as by this time I feared they must, though, +indeed, they had refused to do so before,--my time might already be past, +and that which I cherished as hope might be even now but dead ashes. + +At times I wondered if Jean Le Marchant had not had his suspicions of +Torode's treacheries, and how he would regard the young Torode as suitor +for Carette in that case. I was sure in my own mind that her father and +brothers would never yield her to anything but what they deemed the best +for her. But their ideas on that head might differ widely from my own, and +I drew small comfort from the thought. + +And Carette herself? I hugged to myself the remembrance of her last +farewell. I lived on it. It might mean nothing more than the memory of our +old friendship. It might mean everything. I chose to believe it meant +everything. And I knew that even if I were dead she would never listen to +young Torode if a glimmer of the truth came to her ears, for she was the +soul of honour. + +Then came a matter which at once added to my anxieties, and set work to my +hands which kept my mind from dwelling too darkly on its own troubles. + +So crowded were all the war prisons up and down the land, and so continuous +was the stream of captives brought in by the war-ships, that death no +sooner made a vacancy amongst us than it was filled at once from the +overflowing quarters elsewhere. + +We had fevers and agues constantly with us, and one time so sharp an +epidemic of small-pox that every man of us, will he nil he, had to submit +to the inoculation then newly introduced as a preventive against that most +horrible disease. Some of us believed, and rightly I think, that as good a +preventive as any against this or any ailment was the keeping of the body +in the fittest possible condition, and to that end we subjected ourselves +to the hardest exercise in every way we could contrive, and suffered I +think less than the rest. + +As the long hard winter drew slowly past, and spring brightened the land +and our hearts, and set new life in both, my mind turned again to thoughts +of escape. While that bleak country lay in the grip of ice and snow it had +seemed certain death to quit the hard hospitality of the prison. It was +better to be alive inside than dead outside. But now the stirrings of life +without stirred the life within towards freedom, and I began to plan my +way. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +HOW I CAME ACROSS ONE AT AMPERDOO + + +I had worked hard at my carvings, and had become both a better craftsman +and a keener bargainer, and so had managed to accumulate a small store of +money. I could see my way without much difficulty over the first high +wooden stockade, but so far I could not see how to pass the numberless +sentries that patrolled constantly between it and the outer fence. + +And while I was still striving to surmount this difficulty in my own mind, +which would I knew be still more difficult in actual fact, that occurred +which upset all my plans and tied me to the prison for many a day. + +Among the new-comers one day was one evidently sick or sorely wounded. His +party, we heard, had come up by barge from the coast. The hospital was +full, and they made a pallet for the sick man in a corner of our long room. + +He lay for the most part with his face to the wall, and seemed much broken +with the journey. + +I had passed him more than once with no more than the glimpse of a white +face. An attendant from the hospital looked in now and again, at long +intervals, to minister to his wants. The sufferer showed no sign of +requiring or wishing anything more, and while his forlornness troubled me, +I did not see that I could be of any service to him. + +It was about the third day after his arrival that I caught his eye fixed on +me, and it seemed to me with knowledge. I went across and bent over him, +then fell quickly to my knees beside him. + +"Le Marchant! Is it possible?" + +It was Carette's youngest brother, Helier. + +"All that's left of him,--hull damaged," he said, with a feeble show of +spirit. + +"What's wrong?" + +"A shot 'twixt wind and water--leaking a bit." + +"Does it hurt you to talk?" + +He nodded to save words, but added, "Hurts more not to. Thought you were +dead." + +"I suppose so. Now you must lie quiet, and I'll look after you. But tell +me--how were they all in Sercq the last you heard--my mother and +grandfather--and Carette? And how long is it since?" + +"A month--all well, far as I know. But we--" with a gloomy shake of the +head--"we are wiped out." + +"Your father and brothers?" + +"All in same boat--wiped out." + +I would have liked to question him further, but the talking was evidently +trying to him, and I had to wait. It was much to have learnt that up to a +month ago all was well with those dearest to me, though his last words +raised new black fears. + +I hung about outside till the hospital attendant paid his belated visit, +and then questioned him. + +"A shot through the lung," he told me, "and a bout of fever on top of it. +Lung healing, needs nursing. Do you know him?" + +"He is from my country. If you'll tell me what to do I'll see to him." + +"Then I'll leave him to you. We've got our hands full over there," and he +gave me simple directions as to treatment, and told me to report to him +each day. + +And so my work was cut out for me, and for the time being all thought of +escape was put aside. + +It was as much as I could do to keep Le Marchant from talking, but I +insisted and bullied him into the silence that was good for him, and had my +reward in his healing lung and slowly returning strength. + +To keep him quiet I sat much with him, and told him by degrees pretty +nearly all that had happened to me. In the matter of Torode I could not at +first make up my mind whether to disclose the whole or not, and so told him +only how John Ozanne and the _Swallow_ encountered Main Rouge, and came to +grief, and how the privateer, having picked me up, had lodged me on board +the _Josephine_. + +I thought he eyed me closely while I told of it, and then doubted if it was +not my own lack of candour that prompted the thought. + +His recovery was slow work at best, for the wound had brought on fever, and +the fever had reduced him terribly, and when the later journeying renewed +the wound trouble he had barely strength to hang on. But he was an Island +man, and almost kin to me for the love I bore Carette, and I spared myself +no whit in his service, thinking ever of her. And the care and attention I +was able to give him, and perhaps the very fact of companionship, and the +hopes I held out of escape together when he should be well enough, wrought +mightily in him. So much so that the hospital man, when he looked in, now +and again, to see how we were getting on, told me he would want my help +elsewhere as soon as my present patient was on his feet again, as I was +evidently built for tending sick men. + +As soon as Le Merchant's lung healed sufficiently to let him speak without +ill consequences, I got out of him particulars of the disaster that had +befallen them. + +They were running an unusually valuable cargo into Poole Harbour when they +fell into a carefully arranged trap. They flung overboard their weighted +kegs and made a bolt for the open, and found themselves face to face with a +couple of heavily-armed cutters converging on the harbour, evidently by +signal. Under such circumstances the usual course, since flight was out of +the question, would have been a quiet surrender, but Jean Le Marchant, +furious at being so tricked, flung discretion after his kegs, and fought +for a chance of freedom. + +"But we never had a chance," said Helier bitterly, "and it was a mistake to +try, though we all felt as mad about it as he did. I saw him and Martin go +down. Then this cursed bullet took me in the chest, and I don't remember +things very clearly after that, till I came to myself in the prison +hospital at Forton, with a vast crowd of others. Then we were bustled out +and anywhere to make room for a lot of wounded from the King's ships, and I +thought it better to play wounded sailor than wounded smuggler, and so I +kept a quiet tongue and they sent me here. The journey threw me back, but +I'm glad now I came. It's good to see a Sercq face again." + +"And the others?" I asked, thinking, past them all, of Carette. + +"Never a word have I heard," he said gloomily. "They were taken or killed +without doubt. And if they are alive and whole they are on King's ships, +for they're crimping every man they can lay hands on down there." + +"And Carette will be all alone, and that devil of a Torode--my God, Le +Marchant!--but it is hard to sit here and think of it! Get you well, and we +will be gone." + +"Aunt Jeanne will see to her," he said confidently. "Aunt Jeanne is a +cleverer woman than most." + +"And Torode a cleverer man--the old one at all events;" and under spur of +my anxiety, with which I thought to quicken his also, I told him the whole +matter of the double-flag treachery, and looked for amazement equal to the +quality of my news. But the surprise was mine, for he showed none. + +"It's a vile business," he said, "but we saw the possibilities of it long +since, and had our suspicions of Torode himself. I'm not sure that he's the +only one at it either. They miscall us Le Marchants behind our backs, but +honest smuggling's sweet compared with that kind of work. And so Torode is +Main Rouge! That's news anyway. If ever we get home, mon beau, we'll make +things hot for him. He's a treacherous devil. I'm not sure he hadn't a hand +in our trouble also." + +"If he had any end to serve I could believe it of him." + +"But what end?" + +"Young Torode wants Carette." + +He laughed as though he deemed my horizon bounded by Carette, as indeed it +was. "No need for him to make away with the whole of her family in order +to get her," he said. "It would not commend him to her." + +And presently, after musing over the matter, he said, "All the same, Carre, +what I can't understand is why you're alive. In Torode's place now I'd +surely have sunk you with the rest. Man! his life is in your hands." + +"I understand it no more than you do. I can only suppose he thought he'd +finally disposed of me by shipping me aboard the _Josephine_." + +"A sight easier to have shipped you into the sea with a shot at your heels, +and a sight safer too." + +"It is so," I said. "And how I come to be here, and alive, I cannot tell." + +As soon as the lung healed, and he was able to get about in the fresh air, +he picked up rapidly, and we began to plan our next move. + +We grew very friendly, as was only natural, and our minds were open to one +another. The only point on which I found him in any way awanting was in a +full and proper appreciation of his sister. He conceded, in brotherly +fashion, that she was a good little girl, and pretty, as girls went, and +possessed of a spirit of her own. And I, who had never had a sister, nor +indeed much to do with girls as a class, could only marvel at his dullness, +for to me Carette was the very rose and crown of life, and the simple +thought of her was a cordial to the soul. + +I confided to him my plans for escape, and we laid our heads together as to +the outer stockade, but with all our thinking could not see the way across +it. That open space between, with its hedge of sentries, seemed an +impassable barrier. + +We were also divided in opinion as to the better course to take if we +should get outside. Le Marchant favoured a rush straight to the east coast, +which was not more than thirty miles away. There he felt confident of +falling in with some of the free-trading community who would put us across +to Holland or even to Dunkerque, where they were in force and recognised. +I, on the other hand, stuck out for the longer journey right through +England to the south coast, whence it should be possible to get passage +direct to the Islands. Whichever way we went we were fully aware that our +troubles would only begin when the prison was left behind us, and that they +would increase with every step we took towards salt water. For so great had +been the waste of life in the war that the fleets were short-handed, and +anything in the shape of a man was pounced on by the pressgangs as soon as +seen, and flung aboard ship to be licked into shape to be shot at. + +Le Marchant urged, with some reason, that on the longer tramp to the south +his presence with me would introduce a danger which would be absent if I +were alone. For his English was not fluent, and he spoke it with an accent +that would betray him at once. He even suggested our parting, if we ever +did succeed in getting out--he to take his chance eastward, while I went +south, lest he should prove a drag on me. But this I would not hear of, and +the matter was still undecided when our chance came suddenly and +unexpectedly. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +HOW WE SAID GOOD-BYE TO AMPERDOO + + +We were well into the summer by the time Le Marchant was fully fit to +travel, and we had planned and pondered over that outer stockade till our +brains ached with such unusual exercise, and still we did not see our way. +For the outer sentries were too thickly posted to offer any hopes of +overcoming them, and even if we succeeded in getting past any certain one, +the time occupied in scaling the outer palisades would be fatal to us. + +Then our chance came without a moment's warning, and we took it on the +wing. + +It was a black oppressive night after a dull hot day. We had been duly +counted into our long sleeping-room, and were lying panting in our +hammocks, when the storm broke right above us. There came a blinding blue +glare which lit up every corner of the room, and then a crash so close and +awful that some of us, I trow, thought it the last crash of all. For +myself, I know, I lay dazed and breathless, wondering what the next minute +would bring. + +It brought wild shouts from outside and the rush of many feet, the hurried +clanging of a bell, the beating of a drum, and then everything was drowned +in a furious downpour of rain which beat on the roof like whips and flails. + +What was happening I could not tell, but there was confusion without, and +confusion meant chances. + +I slipped out of my hammock, unhitched it, and stole across to Le Marchant. + +"Come! Bring your hammock!" I whispered, and within a minute we were +outside in the storm, drenched to the skin but full of hope. + +One of the long wooden houses on the other side of the enclosure was +ablaze, but whether from the lightning or as cover to some larger attempt +at escape we could not tell. Very likely the latter, I have since thought, +for the soldiers were gathering there in numbers, and the bell still rang +and the drum still beat. + +Without a word, for all this we had discussed and arranged long since, we +crept to the palisade nearest to us. I took my place solidly against it. Le +Marchant climbed up onto my shoulders, flung the end of his hammock over +the spiked top till it caught with its cordage, and in a moment he was +sitting among the teeth up above. Another moment, and I was alongside him, +peering down into the danger ring below, while the rain thrashed down upon +us so furiously that it was all we could do to see or hear. We could, +indeed, see nothing save what was right under our hands, for the dead +blackness of the night was a thing to be felt. + +There was no sound or sign of wardership. It seemed as though what I had +hardly dared to hope had come to pass,--as though, in a word, that urgent +call to the other side of the enclosure, to forestall an escape or assist +at the fire, had bared this side of guards. + +We crouched there among the sharp points, listening intently; then, taking +our lives in our hands, we dropped the hammock on the outside of the +palisade and slipped gently down. + +My heart was beating a tattoo as loud as that in the soldiers' quarters, as +we sped across the black space which had baffled us so long, and not +another sound did we hear save the splashing of the rain. + +My hammock helped us over the outer palisade in the same way as the other, +and we stood for a moment in the rain and darkness, panting and +shaking,--free men. + +We made for the void in front, with no thought but of placing the greatest +possible distance between ourselves and the prison in the shortest possible +time. We plunged into bogs and scrambled through to the farther side, eager +bundles of dripping slime, and sped on and on through the rain and +darkness--free men, and where we went we knew not, only that it was from +prison. + +For a time the flicker of the burning house showed us where the prison lay, +and directed us from it. But this soon died down, and we were left to make +our own course, with no guide but the drenching rain. We had headed into it +when we loosed from the palisade, and we continued to breast it. + +No smaller prize than freedom, no weaker spur than the prison behind would +have carried men through what we underwent that night. We ran till our +breath came sorely, and then we trudged doggedly, with set teeth, and hands +clenched, as though by them we clung to desperate hope. Twice when we +plunged into black waters we had to swim, and Le Marchant was not much of a +swimmer. But there I was able to help him, and when we touched ground we +scrambled straight up high banks and went on. And the darkness, if it gave +us many a fall, was still our friend. + +But my recollections of that night are confused and shadowy. It was one +long plunge through stormy blackness, water above, water below, with +tightened breath and shaking limbs, and the one great glowing thought +inside that we were free of the cramping prison, and that now everything +depended on ourselves. + +Scarce one word did we speak, every breath was of consequence. Hand in hand +we went, lest in that blackness of darkness we should lose one another and +never come together again. For the thick streaming blackness of that night +was a thing to be felt and not to be forgotten. Never had I felt so like a +lost soul condemned to endless struggle for it knew not what. For whether +we were keeping a straight course, or were wandering round and round, we +had no smallest idea, and we had not a single star to guide us. + +It was terribly hard travelling. When we struck on tussocks of the wiry +grass we were grateful, but for the most part we were falling with +bone-breaking jerks into miry pitfalls, or tumbling into space as we ran, +and coming up with a splash and a struggle in some deep pool or +wide-flowing ditch. + +There is a limit, however, to human endurance, even where liberty is at +stake. We trod air one time, in that disconcerting way which jarred one +more than many a mile of travel, and landed heavily in the slime below, and +Le Marchant lay and made no attempt to rise. I groped till I found him, and +hauled him to solider ground, and he lay there coughing and choking, and at +last sobbing angrily, not with weakness of soul but from sheer lack of +strength to move. + +"Go on! Go on!" he gasped, as soon as he could speak. "I'm done. Get you +along!" + +"I'm done too," I said, and in truth I could not have gone much farther. +"We'll rest here till daybreak, then we can see where we are." + +He had no breath for argument, and we lay in the muddy sedge till our +hearts had settled to a more reasonable beat, and we had breath for speech. + +"How far have we come, do you think?" Le Marchant asked. + +"It felt like fifty miles, but it was such rough work that it's probably +nearer five. But it can't be long to daylight. Then we shall know better." + +We struggled to a drier hummock and lay down again. The rain had ceased, +and presently, while we lay watching for the first flicker of dawn in front +or on our left, an exclamation from Le Marchant brought me round with a +jerk, to find the sky softening and lightening right behind us. The ditches +and the darkness and our many falls had led us astray. Instead of going due +east we had fetched a compass and bent round to the north; instead of +leaving our prison we had circled round it. And as the shadows lightened on +the long dim flats, we saw in the distance the black ring of the stockade +on its little elevation. + +"Let us get on," said Le Marchant, with a groan at the wasted energies of +the night. + +"I believe we're safer here. If they seek us it will be farther away. +They'd never think we'd be such fools as to stop within a couple of miles +of the prison." + +And, indeed, before I had done speaking, we could make out the tiny black +figures of patrols setting off along the various roads that led through the +swamps, and so we lay still, and watched the black figures disappear to the +east and south and north. + +So long as we kept hidden I had no great fear of them, for the swamps were +honeycombed with hiding-places, and to beat them thoroughly would have +required one hundred men to every one they could spare. + +"I'm not at all sure it's us they're after," I said, by way of cheer for us +both. "All that turmoil last night and the fire makes me think some of the +others in Number Three were on the same job." + +"Like enough, but I don't see that it helps us much. Can we find anything +to eat?" + +But we had come away too hurriedly to make any provision, and we knew too +little of the roots among which we lay to venture any of them. So we lay, +hungry and sodden, in spite of the sun which presently set the flats +steaming, and did not dare to move lest some sharp eye should spy us. We +could only hope for night and stars, and then sooner or later to come +across some place where food could be got, if it was only green grain out +of a field, for our stomachs were calling uneasily. + +Twice during the day we heard guns at a distance, and that confirmed my +idea that others besides ourselves had escaped, and by widening the chase +it gave me greater hopes. But it was weary work lying there, and more and +more painful as regards our stomachs, which from crying came to clamour, +and from clamour to painful groanings, and a hollow clapping together of +their empty linings. + +Not till nightfall did we dare to move, and very grateful we were that the +night was fine with a glorious show of stars. By them we steered due east, +but still had to keep to the marsh-lands and away from the roads. And now, +from lack of food, our hearts were not so stout, and the going seemed +heavier and more trying. It brought back to me the times we had in the +Everglades of Florida, and I told Le Marchant the story, but it did not +greatly cheer him. + +Once that night, in our blind travelling, we stumbled out into a road, and +while we stood doubtful whether we might not dare to use it for the +easement of our bodies, there came along it the tramp of men and the click +of arms, and we were barely in the ditch, with only our noses above water, +when they went noisily past us in the direction of the prison. + +We made a better course that night, in the matter of direction at all +events, but our progress was slow, for we were both feeling sorely the lack +of food, and our way across the flats was still full of pitfalls, into +which we fell dully and dragged ourselves out doggedly. We had been thirty +hours without a bite, and suffered severe pains, probably from the marsh +water we had drunk and had to drink. + +"Two hundred kegs of fine French cognac we dropped overboard outside Poole +Harbour," groaned Le Marchant one time, "and a mouthful of it now--!" Ay, a +mouthful of it just then would have been new life to us. We stumbled on +like machines because our spirits willed it so, but truly at times the +weariness of the body was like to master the spirit. + +"We must come across something in time," I tried to cheer him with--feeling +little cheer myself. + +"If it's only the hole they'll find our bodies in," he said down-heartedly. + +And a very short while after that, as though to point his words, we fell +together into a slimy ditch, and it seemed to me that Le Marchant lay +unable to rise. + +I put my arms under him, and strove to lift him, and felt a shock of horror +as another man's arms round him on the other side touched mine, and I found +another man trying to lift him also. + +"Bon Dieu!" I gasped in my fright, and let the body go, as the other jerked +out the same words, and released his hold also, and the body fell between +us. + +"Dieu-de-dieu, Carre! But I thought this was you," panted Le Marchant in a +shaky voice. + +"And I thought it was you." + +We bent together and lifted the fallen one to solid ground, but it was too +dark to see his face. + +"Is he dead?" + +"He is dead," I said, for I had laid my hand against his heart, and it was +still, and his flesh was clammy cold, and when we found him he was lying +face down in the mud. + +"He escaped as we did, and wandered till he fell in here and was too weak +to rise. Let us go on;" and we joined hands, for the comfort of the living +touch, and went on our way more heavily than before. + +We kept anxious look-out for lights or any sign of humanity. And lights +indeed we saw at times that night, and cowered shivering in ditches and +mudholes as they flitted to and fro about the marshes. For these, we knew, +were no earthly lights, but ghost flares tempting us to +destruction--stealthy pale flames of greenish-blue which hovered like +ghostly butterflies, and danced on the darkness, and fluttered from place +to place as though blown by unfelt winds. And one time, after we had left +the dead man behind, one such came dancing straight towards us, and we +turned and ran for our lives till we fell into a hole. For Le Marchant +vowed it was the dead man's spirit, and that the others were the spirits of +those who had died in similar fashion. But for myself I was not sure, for I +had seen similar lights on our masts at sea in the West Indies, though +indeed there was nothing to prove that they also were not the spirits of +drowned mariners. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +HOW WE FOUND A FRIEND IN NEED + + +But--"pas de rue sans but!" as we say in Sercq--there is no road but has an +ending. And, just as the dawn was softening the east, and when we were nigh +our last effort, we stumbled by sheerest accident on shelter, warmth, and +food,--and so upon life, for I do not think either of us could have carried +on much longer, and to have sunk down there in the marsh, with no hope of +food, must soon have brought us to an end. + +It was Le Marchant who smelt it first. + +"Carre," he said suddenly, "there is smoke," and he stood and sniffed like +a starving dog. Then I smelt it also, a sweet pleasant smell of burning, +and we sniffed together. + +Since it came to us on the wind we followed up the wind in search of it, +and nosed about hither and thither, losing it, finding it, but getting +hotter and hotter on the scent till we came at last to a little mound, and +out of the mound the smoke came. + +A voice also as we drew close, muffled and monotonous, but human beyond +doubt. We crept round the mound till we came on a doorway all covered with +furze and grasses till it looked no more than a part of the mound. We +pulled open the door, and the voice inside said, "Blight him! Blight him! +Blight him!" and we crept in on our hands and knees. + +There was a small fire of brown sods burning on the ground, and the place +was full of a sweet pungent smoke. A little old man sat crouched with his +chin on his knees staring into the fire, and said, "Blight him! Blight him! +Blight him!" without ceasing. There was no more than room for the three of +us, and we elbowed one another as we crouched by the fire. + +He turned a rambling eye on us, but showed no surprise. + +"Blight him! Blight him! Blight him!" said the little old man. + +"Blight him! Blight him! Blight him!" said I, deeming it well to fall in +with his humour. + +"Ay--who?" he asked. + +"The one you mean." + +"Ay,--Blight him! Blight him! Blight him!" and he lifted a bottle from the +ground between his knees, and took a pull at it, and passed it on to me. I +drank and passed it to Le Marchant, and the fiery spirit ran through my +veins like new hot life. + +"We are starving. Give us to eat," I said, and the old man pointed to a +hole in the side of the hut. I thrust in my hand and found bread, dark +coloured and coarse, but amazingly sweet and strengthening, and a lump of +fat bacon. We divided it without a word, and ate like famished dogs. And +all the time the old man chaunted "Blight him!" with fervour, and drank +every now and then from the bottle. We drank too as we ate, but sparingly, +lest our heads should go completely, though we could not believe such +hospitality a trap. + +It was a nightmare ending to a nightmare journey, but for the moment we +had food and shelter and we asked no more. When we had eaten we curled +ourselves up on the floor and slept, with "Blight him! Blight him! Blight +him!" dying in our ears. + +I must have slept a long time, for when I woke I felt almost myself again. +I had dim remembrances of half-wakings, in which I had seen the old man +still crouching over his smouldering fire muttering his usual curse. But +now he was gone, and Le Marchant and I had the place to ourselves, and +presently Le Marchant stretched and yawned, and sat up blinking at the +smoke. + +"Where is the old one?" he asked. "Or was he only a dream?" + +"Real enough, and so was his bread and bacon. I'm hungry again," and we +routed about for food, but found only a bottle with spirits in it, which we +drank. + +We sat there in the careless sloth that follows too great a strain, but +feeling the strength grow as we sat. + +"Is he safe?" asked Le Marchant at last. "Or has he gone to bring the +soldiers on us? And is it night or day?" and he felt round with his foot +till it came on the door and let in a bright gleam of daylight. + +We crawled out into the sunshine and sat with our backs against the sods of +the house, looking out over the great sweep of the flats. It was like a sea +whose tumbling waves had turned suddenly into earth and become fixed. Here +and there great green breakers stood up above the rest with bristling +crests of wire grass, and the darker patches of tiny tangled shrubs and +heather and the long black pools and ditches were like the shadows that +dapple the sea. The sky was almost as clear a blue as we get in Sercq, and +was so full of singing larks that it set us thinking of home. + +Away on the margin of the flats we saw the steeples of churches, and +between us and them a small black object came flitting like a jumping +beetle. We sat and watched it, and it turned into a man, who overcame the +black ditches, and picked his way from tussock to tussock, by means of a +long pole, which brought him to us at length in a series of flying leaps. + +"Blight him! Blight him! Blight him!" he said as he landed. "So you are +awake at last." + +"Awake and hungry," I said. + +He loosed a bundle from his back and opened it, and showed us bread and +bacon. + +"Blight him! Eat!" he said, and we needed no second bidding. + +"You are from the cage?" he asked as he sat and watched us. + +I nodded. + +"All the birds that come my way I feed," he said. "For once I was caged +myself. Blight him!" + +"Whom do you blight?" I asked. + +"Whom?" he cried angrily, and turned a suspicious eye on me. "The Hanover +rat,--George!... And the blight works--oh, it works, and the brain rots in +his head and the maggots gnaw at his heart. And they wonder why!... an +effectual fervent curse!--Oh, it works! For years and years I've cursed him +night and day and--you see! Keep him in the dark, they said. Let no man +speak to him for a twelvemonth and a day, they said. And no man spoke, but +I myself, and all day long and all night I cursed him out loud for the +sound of my own voice, since no other might speak to me. For the silence +and the darkness pressed upon me like the churchyard mould, and I kept my +wits only by cursing. Blight him! Blight him! And now they say--But they +may say what they will so they leave me in peace, for I know--and you +know"--and he bent forward confidentially--"it's the King that's mad, and +soon everyone will know it. Blight him! Blight him! Oh--an effectual +fervent curse indeed!" + +"We are grateful to you," I said, "for food and shelter. We have money, we +will pay." + +"As you will. Those who can, pay. Those who can't, don't. All caged birds, +I help. Blight him! Blight him!" + +"We would rest till night, then you can put us on our way to the coast. +This is an ill land to wander in in the dark. Last night we came on one who +had strayed and died." + +"Where away?" he asked quickly. + +"In the marshes--over yonder--about a mile away, I should say." + +"Was he clothed?" he snapped. + +"Yes, he was clothed." + +And he was off with his pole across the flats, in great bounds, while we +sat wondering. We could see his uncouth hops as he went to and fro at a +distance, and in time he came back with a bundle of clothes tied to his +back. + +"Food one can always get for the herbs of the marshes," he said, "and drink +comes easy when you know where to get it. But clothes cost money and the +dead need them not. Blight him!" + +Le Marchant begged me to ask if he had any tobacco and a pipe, and I did +so. He went inside and came out with a clay pipe and some dried brown herb. + +"It is not what you smoke, but such as it is it is there," he said; and Le +Marchant tried a whiff or two, but laid the pipe aside with a grunt. + +"He speaks as do the others from the cage. How come you to speak as we do?" + +"I am from Sercq. It is part of England." + +"I never heard of it. Why did they cage you?" + +"I was prisoner on a French ship which they captured. I let them believe me +French rather than be pressed on board a King's ship." + +"Right! Blight him!" + +That long rest made men of us again. Our host had little to say to us +except that the King was mad, and we concluded that on that subject he was +none too sane himself, though in other matters we had no fault to find with +him. + +We got directions for our guidance out of him during the day, and as soon +as it was dark he set off with us across the marshes, and led us at last on +to more trustworthy ground and told us how to go. We gave him money and +hearty thanks, and shook him by the hand and went on our way. The last +words we heard from him, out of the darkness, were the same as we heard +first in the darkness--"Blight him! Blight him! Blight him!" and if they +did another old man no harm they certainly seemed to afford great +satisfaction to this one. + +All that night we walked steadily eastward, passing through sleeping +villages and by sleeping farmhouses, and meeting none who showed any desire +to question us. In the early morning I bought bread and cheese from a +sleepy wife at a little shop in a village that was just waking up, and we +ate as we walked, and slept in a haystack till late in the afternoon. We +tramped again all night, and long before daylight we smelt salt water, and +when the sun rose we were sitting on a cliff watching it come up out of the +sea. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +HOW WE CAME UPON A WHITED SEPULCHRE AND FELL INTO THE FIRE + + +We wandered a great way down that lonely coast before a fishing village +hove in sight. At regular intervals we came upon watchmen on the look-out +for invaders or smugglers, and to all such we gave wide berth, by a circuit +in the country or by dodging them on their beats. It was only towns we +feared, and of those there were fortunately not many. In the villages we +had no difficulty in buying food, and to all who questioned we were on our +way to the Nore to join a King's ship and fight the Frenchmen. To cover Le +Marchant's lack of speech, we muffled his face in flannel and gave him a +toothache which rendered him bearish and disinclined for talk. And so we +came slowly down the coast, with eyes and ears alert for chance of +crossing, and wondered at the lack of enterprise on the part of the +dwellers there which rendered the chances so few. + +Many recollections crowd my mind of that long tramp along the edge of the +sea. But greater matters press, and I may not linger on these. We had many +a close shave from officious village busybodies, whose patriotism flew no +higher than thought of the reward which hung to an escaped prisoner of war +or to any likely subject for the pressgang. + +One such is burnt in on my mind, because thought of him has done more to +make me suspicious of my fellows, especially of such as make parade of +their piety, than any man I ever met. + +He was a kindly-looking old man with white hair and a cheerful brown face, +and his clothes were white with flour dust which had a homely, honest +flavour about it. He was in a small shop, where I went for food one +evening, engaged in talk with the woman who kept it, and he began to +question me as soon as I opened my mouth. + +I told him our usual story, and he seemed much interested in it. + +"And you're going to the fleet! Well, well! A dreadful thing is war, but if +it has to be it's better on sea than on the land here, and the fleet must +have sailors, I suppose. But every night I pray for wars to cease and the +good times of universal peace to come." + +"Yes," I said, "peace is very much the best for everyone. It is those who +have seen war who know it best." + +"Surely! Yet one hears enough to know how terrible it is. You have seen +service then?" + +"In the West Indies, both battle and shipwreck," I said, having no wish to +come nearer home. + +"A wonderful land, I'm told, and very different from this country." + +"Very different." + +"Where do you rest to-night?" he asked, in the kindest way possible. + +"We are pushing on to lose no time. The fleet wants men." + +"Brave men are always wanted, and should be well treated. A few hours will +not hurt the fleet. You shall sup and sleep with me, and to-morrow I will +put you on your way in my gig. It is but a step to the mill." + +He seemed so gentle and straightforward, and the prospects of a bed and an +ample meal were so attractive, that we went with him without a thought of +ill. + +The mill stood on rising ground just off the village street. I have never +passed under the gaunt arms of a mill since without a feeling of +discomfort. + +The miller's house, however, was not in the mill itself, but just +alongside, under its great bony wings. There was a light in the window, and +a sweet wholesome smell all about. + +He introduced us to his wife, a very quiet woman, and much less cheerful +and hospitable than himself, and bade her hasten the supper and prepare a +bed, and we sat and talked while they were getting ready. He showed great +concern, too, on Le Marchant's account, and insisted on his wife applying a +boiling lotion of herbs, which very soon made his face look as bad as +anyone could have wished; and, in consequence of some hasty words the +sufferer dropped during this infliction, I found it necessary to explain +that we were from the Channel Islands, but good Englishmen, although our +native speech was more akin to French. The old miller was very much +interested, and asked many questions about the Islands and the land and +crops there. + +We had an excellent hot supper, with home-brewed ale to drink, and then the +old man read a chapter out of the Bible, and prayed at length--for us, and +for peace and prosperity, and much more besides. + +Then we had a smoke, and he showed us to the most comfortable bed I had +seen since I left home. + +Le Marchant was not in the best of humours. He chose to regard the old +man's hospitality with suspicion, and even went the length of casting +doubts upon his piety. But I put it down to the heat of the herb lotion, +which had made his face like a full-blown red rose, and had doubtless got +into his blood. + +I was very sound asleep when a violent shaking of the arm woke me, and Le +Marchant's whisper in my ear--"Carre, there's something wrong. Don't speak! +Listen!"--brought me all to myself in a moment, and I heard what he +heard,--the hushed movement of people in the outer room off which our +bedroom opened, the soft creak of a loose board in the flooring. + +"Outside the window a minute ago," he murmured in my ear. + +Then a sound reached us that there was no mistaking, the tiny click of the +strap-ring of a musket against the barrel, and a peaceful miller has no +need of muskets. + +We had but a moment for thought. I feared greatly that we were trapped, and +felt the blame to myself. There would be men outside the window, but more +in the room, for they looked to catch us sleeping. I had no doubt, in my +own mind, that it was a pressgang, in which case their object was to take +us, not to kill us. And, thinking it over since, I have thought it possible +that the treacherous old miller may have signalled them by a light in the +top of the mill, which would be seen a very long way. + +I peeped out of the window. Three men with muskets and cutlasses stood +there watching it. We were trapped of a surety. Carette and Sercq seemed +to swing away out of sight, and visions of the routine and brutality of the +King's service loomed up very close in front. + +We had no weapons except my sailor's knife, which would be little use +against muskets and cutlasses. But there was a stout oak chair by the +bedside, and at a pinch its legs might serve. + +We could do nothing but wait to see what their move would be, and that +waiting, with the gloomiest of prospects in front, was as long and dismal a +time as any I have known. + +It was just beginning to get light when a tap came on the door, and the +voice of the villainous old miller-- + +"Your breakfast is ready. We should start in half an hour." + +"Hel-lo?" I asked, in as sleepy a fashion as I could make it. + +He repeated his message, and Le Marchant, with his ear against the door, +nodded confirmation of our fears. The breakfast we were invited to +consisted of muskets and cutlasses and hard blows. + +It was Le Marchant's very reasonable anger at this treacherous usage that +saved us in a way we had not looked for. But possibly there was in him some +dim idea of chances of escape in what might follow. Chance there was none +if we walked into the next room or tried the window. + +Our comfortable bed consisted of sweet soft hay inside the usual covering. +He suddenly ripped this open, tore out the hay in handfuls and flung it +under the bedstead, then pulled out his flint and steel and set it ablaze. +The room was full of smoke in a moment, and we heard startled cries from +the outer room. Taking the stout oak chair by opposite legs we pulled till +they parted, and we were armed. + +The door burst open and the miller went down headlong under Le Marchant's +savage blow. + +"Next!" he cried, swinging his club athwart the doorway. But, though there +were many voices, no head was offered for his blow. + +The flames burned fiercely behind us. With a crack of my chair leg I broke +both windows, and the smoke poured out and relieved us somewhat, and the +fire blazed up more fiercely still. The flooring was all on fire and the +dry old walls behind the bed, and we stood waiting for the next man to +appear. + +"Better give in, boys," cried someone in the outer room. "You'll only make +things worse for yourselves." But we answered never a word, and stood the +more cautiously on our guard. + +Then they began throwing buckets of water in at the door, and we heard it +splashing also on the outer walls, but none came near the fire, since the +bed was not opposite the door. + +We were scorched and half smothered, but the draught through the door and +out at the window still gave us chance to breathe. + +The bedstead fell in a blazing heap, the flames crept round the walls. We +could not stand it much longer. We would have to lay down our chair legs +and surrender. + +Then a very strange thing happened. + +Le Marchant saw it first and grabbed my arm. + +The portion of the blazing bedstead nearest the wall sank down through the +floor and disappeared, and at a glance we saw our way, though how far it +might lead us we could not tell. + +"Allons!" said Le Marchant, and without a moment's hesitation leaped down +into the smoke that came rolling up out of the hole, and I followed. + +We landed on barrels and kegs covered with blazing embers. Le Marchant gave +a laugh at sight of their familiar faces, and, by way of further payment to +the miller, dashed his heel through the head of a keg and sped on, while +the flames roared out afresh behind us. + +For a short way we had the light of the blaze, but soon we were past it and +groping in darkness down a narrow tunnel way. It seemed endless, but fresh +blowing air came puffing up to us at last, and of a sudden we crept out +into the night through a clump of gorse on the side of a cliff. Below us +was the sea, and on the shingle lay a six-oared galley such as the +preventive men use. + +"Devil's luck!" laughed Le Marchant, and we slipped and rolled down the +cliff to the shore, with never a doubt as to our next move. We set our +shoulders to the black galley, ran it gaily down the shingle, and took to +the oars. As we got out from under the land we saw the house blazing +fiercely on the cliff. There was a keg in the boat and a mast with a +leg-of-mutton sail. We stepped the mast and set the sail and drew swiftly +out to sea. + +I do not think either of us ever found a voyage so much to our liking as +this. Our craft was but a Customs' galley, twenty feet long and four feet +in beam, it is true, and we were heading straight out into the North Sea. +We had not a scrap of food, but we had fared well the night before, and the +keg in the bows suggested hopes. But we were homeward bound, and we had +just come through dire peril by the sheer mercy of Providence. + +"The old one is well punished for his roguery," said Le Marchant with a +relish. "And after his prayers too! Diable, but he stinks!" + +"He gave us a good supper, however." + +"So that we might breakfast en route for a King's ship! Non, merci! No more +mealy mouths for me." And to me also it was a lesson I have never +forgotten. + +Our first idea had been to run due east till we struck the coast of +Holland, which we knew must be something less than one hundred and fifty +miles away. But Le Marchant, who knew the smuggling ports better than I, +presently suggested that we should run boldly south by east for Dunkerque +or Boulogne, and he affirmed that it was little if any farther away than +the Dutch coast, and even if it was, we should land among friends and save +time and trouble in the end. So, as the weather and wind seemed like to +hold, we turned to the south, and kept as straight a course as we could, +and met with no interference. The setting sun trued our reckoning and we +ran on by the stars. + +The keg in the bows contained good Dutch rum, and we drank sparingly at +times for lack of other food. Once during the night we heard guns, and our +course carried us close enough to see the flashes, but we were content +therewith, and went on about our business, glad to be of small account and +unseen. + +When the sun rose, there stole out of the shadows on our right white cliffs +and a smiling green land, which Le Marchant said was the coast of Kent, so +we ran east by south and presently raised a great stretch of sandy dunes, +along which we coasted till the ramparts and spires of Dunkerque rose +slowly before us. + +Le Marchant knew his way here, and took us gaily over the bar into the +harbour, where many vessels of all shapes and sizes were lying, and he told +me what I had heard spoken of on the _Josephine_, that Bonaparte was said +to be gathering a great fleet for the invasion of England. + +We landed in a quiet corner without attracting observation, and Le Marchant +led the way to a quarter of the town which he said was given up entirely to +the smuggling community, and where we should meet with a warm welcome. But +we found, on arriving there, that the free-traders had been moved in a body +down the coast to Gravelines, half-way to Calais, all but a stray family or +two of the better behaved class. These, however, treated us well on hearing +our story, and we rested there that day, and left again as soon as it was +dark with all the provisions we could carry. We crept quietly out of the +harbour and coasted along past the lights of Gravelines, and Calais, and +weathered with some difficulty the great gray head of Gris Nez, and were +off the sands of Boulogne soon after sunrise. + +We kept well out, having no desire for forced service, but only to get home +and attend to our own affairs. But even at that distance, and to our +inexperienced eyes, the sight we saw was an extraordinary one. The heights +behind the town were white with tents as though a snowstorm had come down +in the night, and for miles each way the level sand-flats flashed and +twinkled with the arms of vast bodies of men, marching to and fro at their +drill, we supposed. + +We dropped our sail to avoid notice and rowed slowly past, but time and +again found ourselves floating idly, as we gazed at that great spectacle +and wondered what the upshot would be. + +Then we were evidently sighted by some sharp look-out on one of the round +towers, for presently a white sail came heading for us, and we hastily ran +up our own and turned and sped out to sea, believing that they would not +dare to follow us far. They chased us till the coast sank out of our sight, +and could have caught us if they had kept on, but they doubtless feared a +trap and so were satisfied to have got rid of us. When they gave it up we +turned and ran south for Dieppe, and sighted the coast a little to the +north of that small fishing port just before sunset. + +Here Le Marchant was among friends, having visited the place many times in +the way of business, and we were welcomed and made much of. We were anxious +to get on, but the wind blew up so strongly from the south-west that we +could have made no headway without ratching all the time to windward, and +the sea was over high for our small boat. So we lay there three days, much +against our will, though doubtless to the benefit of our bodies. And I have +wondered at times, in thinking back over all these things, whether matters +might not have worked out otherwise if the wind had been in a different +quarter. Work out to their fully appointed end I knew they had to do, of +course. But that three days' delay at Dieppe brought us straight into the +direst peril conceivable, and an hour either way--ay, or ten minutes for +that matter--might have avoided it. But, as my grandfather used to say, and +as I know he fervently believed, a man's times and courses are ordered by a +wisdom higher than his own, and the proper thing for him to do is to take +things as they come, and make the best of them. + +After three days the wind shifted to the north-west, and we said good-bye +to our hosts and loosed for Cherbourg, well-provisioned and in the best of +spirits, for Cherbourg was but round the corner from home. + +We made a comfortable, though not very quick, passage, the wind falling +slack and fitful at times, so that it was the evening of the next day +before we slipped in under the eastern end of the great digue they were +building for the protection of the shipping in the harbour. It was at that +time but a few feet above water level, and its immense length gave it a +very curious appearance, like a huge water-snake lying flat on the surface +of the sea. + +We pulled in under an island which held a fort, and keeping along that side +of the roadstead, ran quietly ashore, drew our boat up, and went up into +the town. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +HOW WE WALKED INTO THE TIGER'S MOUTH + + +Cherbourg was at that time a town of mean-looking houses and narrow +streets, ill-paved, ill-lighted, a rookery for blackbirds of every breed. +It was a great centre for smuggling and privateering, the fleet brought +many hangers-on, and the building of the great digue drew thither rough +toilers who could find, or were fitted for, no other employment. + +Low-class wine-shops, and their spawn of quarrellings and sudden deaths, +abounded. Crime, in fact, attracted little attention so long as it held no +menace to the public peace. Life had been so very cheap, and blood had +flowed so freely, that the public ear had dulled to its cry. + +Le Marchant led the way through the dark, ill-smelling streets to a cafe in +the outskirts. + +The Cafe au Diable Boiteux looked all its name and more. It was as +ill-looking a place as ever I had seen. But here it was that the +free-traders made their headquarters, and here, said Le Marchant, we might +find men from the Islands, and possibly even from Sercq itself, and so get +news from home. + +The cafe itself opened not directly off the road, but off a large courtyard +surrounded by a wall, which tended to privacy and freedom from +observation. + +It was quite dark when we turned in through a narrow slit of a door, in a +larger door which was chained and bolted with a great cross-beam. There +were doubtless other outlets known to the frequenters. + +Le Marchant led the way across the dark courtyard, which was lighted only +by the red-draped windows of the cafe, and opened a door out of which +poured a volume of smoke and the hot reek of spirits, and a great clash of +talk and laughter. + +The room was so thick with smoke that, coming in out of the darkness, I +could only blink, though there was no lack of lamps, and the walls were +lined with mirrors in gilt frames which made the room look almost as large +as the noise that filled it, and multiplied the lights and the smoke and +the people in a bewildering fashion. + +Three or four men had risen in a corner and were slowly working their way +out, with back-thrown jests to those they were leaving. Following close on +Le Marchant's heels, I stepped aside to let them pass, and in doing so +bumped against the back of a burly man who was leaning over the table in +close confidential talk with one opposite him. + +"Pardon!" I said, and, looking up, saw two grim eyes scowling at me, +through the smoke, out of the looking-glass in front. + +I gave but one glance, and felt as if I had run my head against a wall or +had received a blow over the heart. For those fierce black eyes were full +of menace. They had leaped to mine as blade leaps to blade, touches +lightly, slides along, and holds your own with the compelling pressure that +presages assault. They were like thunderclouds charged with blasting +lightnings. They were full of understanding and dreadful intention, and all +this I saw in one single glance. + +I gripped Le Marchant's jacket. + +"Out quick!" I whispered, and turned and went. + +"What--?" he began. + +"Torode of Herm is there." + +"The devil! Did he see you?" + +"I think so. Yes, he looked at me through the looking-glass." + +"No time to lose then!" and he sped down the yard, and through the slit of +a door, and down the dark road, and I was not a foot behind him. + +"You are quite sure, Carre?" he panted, as we ran. + +"Quite sure. His eyes drew mine, and I knew him as he knew me." + +"Never knew him to go there before. Devil's luck he should be there +to-night." + +I think it no shame to confess to a very great fear, for of a surety, now, +the earth was not large enough for this man and me. I held his life in my +hand as surely as though he were but a grasshopper, and he knew it. And he +was strong with the strength of many purposeful men behind him, every man +as heartless as himself, and Le Marchant and I were but two. My head swam +at thought of the odds between us, and hope grew sick in me. + +My sole idea of escape, under the spur of that great fear, had been to get +to the boat and make for home. But Le Marchant, having less at stake,--so +far as he knew at all events,--had his wits more in hand, and used them to +better purpose. For, supposing we got away all right in the dark, Torode's +schooner could sail four feet to our one, and if he sighted us we should be +completely at his mercy, a most evil and cruel thing to trust to. Then, +too, there was La Hague, with its fierce waves, and beyond it the wild Race +of Alderney with its contrarieties and treacheries,--ill things to tackle +even in a ship of size. Le Marchant thought on these things, and before we +were into the town he panted them out, and turned off suddenly to the left +and made for the open country. + +"We'll strike right through to Carteret," he jerked. "The boat must go.... +He'll look for us in the town and the wind's against him for La Hague.... +We must get across before he can get round." + +"How far across?" + +"Less than twenty miles.... There soon after midnight.... Steal a boat if +necessary." + +We settled down into a steady walk and got our wind back, and my spirits +rose, and hope showed head once more. If we could get across to Sercq +before Torode could lay us by the heels, we would be safe among our own +folks, and, unless I was very much mistaken, he would no more than visit +Herm and away before I could raise Peter Port against him. + +Neither of us had travelled that land before, but we knew the direction we +had to take, and the stars kept us to our course. + +We pressed on without a halt, for every moment was of importance, and for +the most part we went in silence. For myself, I was already, in my +thoughts, clasping my mother and Carette in my arms once more, and then +speeding across to Peter Port to rouse them there with the news of Torode's +murderous treachery. + +Le Marchant was the more practical man of the two. As we passed some +windmills, and came swinging down towards the western coast, soon after +midnight, he gave a cheerful "Hourra!" and in reply to my stare, cried, +"The wind, man! It's as dead as St. Magloire. Monsieur Torode will never +get round La Hague like this." + +"It will come again with the sun, maybe," I said. + +"Then the quicker we get home the better," and we hurried on. + +When we came out at last on the cliffs the sea lay below us as smooth as a +clouded mirror. It would mean a toilsome passage, but toil was nothing +compared with Torode. We walked rapidly along till we came to a village, +which we learned, afterwards, was not Carteret but Surtainville. There were +boats lying on the shore, and we slipped down the cliff before we reached +the first house, and made our way towards them. One of those boats we had +to use if we had to fight for it, but we had no desire to fight, only to +get away at once without dispute and without delay. + +We fixed on the one that seemed the least heavy and clumsy, though none +were much to our liking, and while Le Marchant hunted up a pair of spare +oars in case of accident, I found a piece of soft white stone and scrawled +on a board, "Boat will be returned in two days, keep this money for +hire"--and emptied all I possessed onto it. Then we ran the clumsy craft +into the water and settled down to a long seven hours' pull. + +But labour was nothing when so much--everything--waited at the other end of +the course. We went to it with a will, and I do not suppose that old boat +had ever moved so rapidly since she was built. + +We had been rowing hard for, we reckoned, close on three hours when the sun +rose. The gray shadows drew slowly off the face of the sea, and we stood up +and scanned the northern horizon anxiously. But there was no flaw upon the +brimming white rim. Torode had evidently not been able to get round La +Hague, and a man must have been blind indeed not to see therein the hand of +Providence; for a cap full of wind and he would have been down on us like a +wolf on two strayed lambs. But now Sercq lay straight in front of our +boat's nose, like a great gray whale nuzzling its young, and every long +pull of the oars brought it nearer. + +There was time indeed for catastrophe yet, and our anxieties would not be +ended till Creux harbour was in sight. For, from Cherbourg to Sercq was but +forty miles,--but, fortunately for us, forty miles which included La Hague +and the Race,--and if Torode could pick up a fair wind he could do it in +four hours--or, with all obstacles, in five, or at most six--whereas, +strain as we might, and we were not fresh to begin with, we could not +possibly cover the distance in less than seven hours. So, given a wind, the +race might prove a tight one, and, as we rowed, our eyes were glued to the +northern sky-line, where La Hague was growing dimmer with every lurch of +the boat, and our hearts were strong with hope if not entirely free from +fear. + +We toiled like galley-slaves, for though the danger was not visible as yet, +for aught we knew it might appear above the horizon at any moment, and then +our chances would be small indeed. Had any eye watched our progress it +must have deemed us demented, for we rowed across a lonely sea as though +death and destruction followed close in our wake. + +For myself, I know my heart was just one dumb prayer for help in this hour +of need. We had come through so much. We had escaped so many perils; so +very much depended on our winning through to Sercq; and failure at this +last moment would be so heart-breaking. Yes, my heart boiled with unspoken +prayers and strange vows, which I fear were somewhat in the nature of +bargainings,--future conduct for present aid,--but which did not seem to me +out of place at the moment, and which, in any case, did me no harm, for a +man works better on prayers than on curses, I'll be bound. + +Sercq at last grew large in front of us, and our hearts were high. When we +jerked our heads over our shoulders we could see the long green slopes of +the Eperquerie beckoning us on, and the rugged brown crests of the Grande +and Petite Moies bobbing cheerfully above the tumbling waves, and Le Tas on +the other side standing like a monument of Sercq's unconquerable +stubbornness. + +And these things spoke to us, and called to us, and braced us with hope, +though our flanks clapped together with the strain of that long pull, and +our legs trembled, and our hands were cramped and blistered. + +Then, of a sudden, Le Marchant jerked a cry, and I saw what he saw--the +topsail of a schooner rising white in the sun above the sky-line, and to +our hearts there was menace in the very look of it. + +We looked round at Sercq, at the cracks in the headlands, and the green +slopes smiling in the sunshine, and the white tongues of the waves as they +leaped up the cliffs. + +"Five miles!" gasped Le Marchant. + +"She must be twelve or more. We'll do it." + +"Close work!" + +And we bent and rowed as we had never rowed in our lives before. + +The schooner had evidently all the wind she wanted. She rose very rapidly. +To our anxious eyes she seemed to sweep along like a sun-gleam on a cloudy +day.... Both her topsails were clear to us.... We could see her jibs +swollen with venom, and past them the great sweep of her mainsails with the +booms well out over the side to take the full of the wind.... The sweat +poured down us, the veins stood out of us like cords.... Once, in the +frenzy of my thoughts, the gleaming white sails on our quarter, and the +crisp green waves alongside, and the dingy brown boat, and Le Marchant's +fiery crimson neck, all shot with red for a moment, and I loosed one hand +and drew it over my brow to see if it was blood or only sweat that trickled +there. + +On and on she came, a marvel of beauty, though she meant death for us, and +showed it in every graceful venomous line, from the sharp white curl at her +forefoot to the swelling menace of her sails. + +Her long black hull was clear to us now, and still we had a mile to go. The +breath whistled through our nostrils. Le Marchant's face when he glanced +across his shoulder was twisted like a crumpled mask. We swung up from our +seats and slewed half round to get every pound we could out of the +thrashing oars. + +We rushed in between the Moie des Burons and the Burons themselves, and +drove straight for the harbour. For a moment the schooner was hid from us. +Then she came racing out again. The tide was running like a fury. We drove +swirling through it. + +"Ach!" burst out from both of us, as a puff of white smoke whirled from the +schooner's bows and a crash behind told us that a point of rock had saved +us.... The coils of the current, which runs there like a mill-race, gripped +our rounded bottom and dragged at us like very devils.... It was life and +death and a question of seconds.... We were level with the remnant of the +old breakwater.... As we tore frantically at the oars to round it, the puff +of smoke whirled out again, ... a crash behind us and chips of granite came +showering into the smooth water inside, and a boat that lay just off the +shore in a line with the opening scattered into fragments before our +straining eyes.... We lay doubled over our oars, panting and sobbing and +laughing. We had escaped--but as by fire. + +A moment for breath, and we slipped over the side, grateful for the cold +bracing of the water on our sweltering skins, struggled through the few +yards to the mouth of the tunnel, and crept through to the road. We lay +there prone till our strength came back, and one full heart, at all +events,--nay, I will believe two,--thanked God fervently for escape from +mighty peril. For no man may look death so closely in the face as that +without being stirred to the depths. + +"A close thing!" breathed Le Marchant, as we got onto our feet and found +the solid earth still rolling beneath us. + +"God's mercy!" I said, and we sped up the steep Creux Road, among the ferns +and flowers and overhanging trees. + +My heart was leaping exultantly. For Carette and my mother and home and +everything lay up the climbing way, and I believed, poor fool, that I had +got the better of a man like Torode of Herm. + +At sight of us, one came running down from Les Laches where he had gone at +sound of the firing, and greeted us with amazement. + +"Bon Gyu, Phil Carre! And we thought you dead! And Helier Le Marchant! +Where do you come from? Where have you been all the time?" + +"Prisoners of war. We came across from France there. There's a boat in the +harbour, Elie, that we borrowed and promised to return. Will you see to it +for us?" and we sped on, to meet many such welcomes, and staring eyes and +gaping mouths, till we came to Beaumanoir, and walked into the kitchen. + +"Oh, bon Dieu!" gasped Aunt Jeanne, and sat down suddenly on the green-bed +at sight of us, believing we were spirits bearing her warning. + +But I flung my arms round her neck and kissed her heartily, and asked only, +"Carette?--and my mother?" + +And she said, "But they are well, mon gars," and regarded me with somewhat +less of doubt, but no less amazement. And I kissed her again, and said, +"Helier will tell you all about it, Aunt Jeanne," and ran off across the +knoll, past Vieux Port, to Belfontaine. + +I looked across at Brecqhou as I came in sight of the western waters, and +said to myself, "In an hour I will be over there to see Carette," and my +heart leaped with joy. Away up towards Rondellerie I thought I saw my +grandfather in the fields. I jumped over the green bank and came down to +the house through the orchard. The door stood wide and I went in. My +mother looked up in quick surprise at a visitor at so unusual an hour, and +in a moment she was on my neck. + +"My boy! my boy!" she cried. "Now God be praised!" and sobbed and strained +me to her, and I felt all her prayers thrill through her arms into my own +heart. + +It was quite a while before we could settle to reasonable talk, for, in +spite of her repeated assertions that she had never really given me up, she +could still hardly realise that I was truly alive and come back to her, and +every other minute she must fling her arms round my neck to make sure. + +Then up she jumped and set food before me, in quantity equal almost to the +time I had been away, as though she feared I had eaten nothing since I left +home. And I had an appetite that almost justified her, for the night had +been a wasteful one. + +And while I ate, I told her briefly where I had been, and what had kept me +so long, and touched but lightly on the matter of Torode, for I saw that +was not what she would care to hear. + +"And Carette?" I asked. "I know she is well, for Aunt Jeanne told me so;" +and she looked up quickly, and I hastened to add,--"We had to pass +Beaumanoir, and I left Helier Le Marchant there. I only stopped long enough +to ask if you were all right--and Carette." If I had told her I had kissed +Aunt Jeanne before herself, I really believe she would have felt hurt, +though I had never thought of it so when I did it. + +But her nature was too sweet, and her heart too full of gratitude, to allow +long harbourage to any such thoughts. + +"Carette," she said with a smile, "has been much with me. But"--and her +face saddened--"you do not know what has befallen them." + +"Helier feared they were wiped out." + +"Almost. Monsieur Le Marchant and Martin, the eldest boy, got home sorely +wounded. They are still there on Brecqhou, and Carette is nursing them back +to life. But I think"--and there was a touch of pride in her pleasure at +it--"she has been here every time she has come across to see Jeanne Falla. +She is a good girl ...and I think she is prettier than ever." But for +myself I thought that was perhaps because she saw her with new eyes. + +"And my grandfather?--and Krok?" + +"Both well, only much troubled about you. I do not think they ever expected +to see you again, my boy. Your grandfather has blamed himself, I think, for +ever letting you go, and it has aged him. Krok gave you up too, I think, +but he has never ceased to keep an eye on Carette for you. I doubt if he +has missed going over to Brecqhou any single day, except when the weather +made it quite impossible." + +"God bless him for that!" + +And even as I spoke, the door opened and Krok came in, but a Krok that we +hardly knew. + +He was in a state of most intense agitation. I thought at first that it was +on my account,--that he had heard of my arrival. But in a moment I saw that +it was some greater thing still that moved him. + +At sight of me he stopped, as if doubting his senses,--or tried to stop, +for that which was in him would not let him stand still. He was bursting +with some news, and my heart told me it was ill news. His eyes rolled and +strained, his dumb mouth worked, he fairly gripped and shook himself in +his frantic striving after communication with us. + +My mother was alarmed, but yet kept her wits. Truly it seemed to me that +unless he could tell us quickly what was in him something inside must give +way under the strain. She ran quickly to a drawer in her dresser, and +pulled out a sheet of paper and a piece of charcoal, and laid them before +him on the table. He jumped at them, but his hand shook so that it only +made senseless scratches on the paper. I heard his teeth grinding with +rage. He seized his right hand with his left, and held it and quieted +himself by a great effort. And slowly and jerkily he wrote, in letters that +fell about the page,--"Carette--Torode--" and then the charcoal fell out of +his hand and he rolled in a heap on the floor. + +My heart gave a broken kick and fell sickly. It dropped in a moment to what +had happened. Failing to end us, Torode had swung round Le Tas and run for +Brecqhou, where Carette, alone with her two sick men, would be completely +at his mercy. He would carry her off, gather his gear on Herm, and be away +before Peter Port could lift a hand to stop him. If I held his life in my +hand, he held in his what was dearer far than life to me. And I had been +pluming myself on getting the better of him! + +"See to him, mother. I must go. Carette is in danger," and I kissed her and +ran out. + +I went down the zigzag at Port a la Jument in sliding leaps, tumbled into +the boat from which Krok had just landed, and once more I was pulling for +life and that which was dearer still. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +HOW THE HAWK SWOOPED DOWN ON BRECQHOU + + +The Race was running furiously through the Gouliot, but I would have got +through it if it had been twice as strong. There was a wild fury in my +heart at thought of Carette in Torode's hands, which ravened for +opposition--for something, anything, to rend and tear and overcome. + +If I had come across Torode himself I would have hurled myself at his +throat, though all his ruffians stood between; and had I clutched it they +had hacked my hands off before I had let go. + +I whirled up to the Gale de Jacob before prudence told me that two men +armed are of more account than one man with nothing but a heart on fire, +and that it would have been good to run round for Le Marchant. But my one +thought had been to get to the place where Carette was in extremity, and +the fire within me felt equal to all it might encounter. + +I climbed the rocky way hot-foot, and sped down through the furze and +golden-rod to the house. The door was open and I ran in. A drawn white +face, with grizzled hair and drooping white moustache, and two dark eyes +like smouldering fires, jerked feebly up out of a bunk at the far end, and +then sank down again. It was Jean Le Marchant. + +There was no sign of disorder in the room. In the next bunk another man +lay apparently asleep. + +"Where is Carette?" I asked hastily, but not without hope, from the lack of +signs of disturbance. + +"Where is she?" he asked feebly, with a touch of impatience. + +"Is she not here?" + +"She went out. I thought I heard a shot. Where is she?" + +"I will go and see," and I ran out again, still not unhopeful. It might be +that Krok had seen Torode's ship and his fears for Carette had magnified +matters. + +I searched quickly all round the house. I cried "Carette! Carette!" But +only a wheeling gull squawked mockingly in reply. Then I ran along the +trodden way to their landing-place. There was a boat lying there with its +nose on the shore,--no sign of outrage anywhere. Could Krok be mistaken? +Could Carette just have rowed over to Havre Gosselin for something she was +in need of? + +I went down to the boat, doubtful of my next move. + +In the boat that nosed the shore lay Helier Le Marchant, my comrade in +prison, in escape, in many perils, with a bullet-hole in his +forehead--dead. And I knew that Krok was right and my worst fears were +justified. + +Torode had landed, had caught Carette abroad, in carrying her off they had +met Le Marchant hastening to her assistance, and had slain him,--the foul +cowards that they were. + +There was nothing I could do for him. I lifted him gently out onto the +shingle, and turned to and pulled out of the harbour. Others, I knew, would +soon be across to Brecqhou, and would see to him and the rest. My work lay +on Herm, and as like as not might end there, for death as sudden and +certain as Helier Le Marchant's awaited me if Torode set eyes on me, and +that I knew full well. + +Had my brain been working quietly I should probably have doubted the wisdom +of crossing to Herm in daylight. But all my thoughts were in a vast +confusion, with this one thought only overtopping all the rest,--Carette +was in the hands of Torode, and I must get there as quickly as possible. + +There are times when foolish recklessness drives headlong through the +obstacles which reason would bid one avoid, and so come desperate deeds +accomplished while reason sits pondering the way. + +I have since thought that the only possible reason why I succeeded in +crossing unseen was that the boiling anxiety within drove me to the venture +at once. I followed so closely on their track that they had not yet had +time to take precautions, which presently they did. But at the time my one +and only thought--the spring and spur of all my endeavour--was +this,--Carette was on Herm and I must get there too. + +The toil of rowing, however, relieved my brain by degrees to the point of +reasonable thinking. One unarmed man against a multitude must use such +strategy as he can devise, and so such little common-sense as was left me +took me in under the Fauconniere by Jethou, and then cautiously across the +narrow channel to the tumbled masses of dark rock on the eastern side of +Herm. Here were hiding-places in plenty, and I had no difficulty in poling +my boat up a ragged cleft where none could see it save from the entrance. +And here I was safe enough, for all the living was on the other side of +the island, the side which lay towards Guernsey. + +Instinct, I suppose, and the knowledge of what I myself would have done in +Torode's place, told me what he would do. And, crawling cautiously about my +hiding-place, and peering over the rocks, I presently saw a well-manned +boat row out from the channel between Herm and Jethou, and lie there in +wait for anything that might attempt the passage from Sercq to Peter Port. + +Nothing would pass that day, that was certain, for Torode would imagine +Sercq buzzing with the news of his treacheries and bursting to set Peter +Port on him. I had got across only just in time. + +On the other side of the island I could imagine all that was toward,--the +schooner loading rapidly with all they wished to take away, the bustle and +traffic between shore and ship, and Carette prisoner, either on board, or +in one of the houses,--or, as likely as not, to have her out of the way, in +my old cleft in the rock. + +I wondered how long their preparations would take, for all my hopes +depended on that. If they cleared out before dark I was undone. If they +stayed the night I might have a chance. + +It was about midday now. Could they load in time to thread their way +through the maze of hidden rocks that strew the passages to the sea, and +try the skilful pilot even in the daytime? I thought not. I hoped not. He +would be a reckless, or a sorely pressed, man who attempted it. And with +his boat on the watch there, and no word able to get to Peter Port unless +after dark, and the time then necessary for an organised descent on Herm, I +thought Torode would risk it and lie there quietly till perhaps the early +morning. + +It was a time of weary waiting, with nothing to do but think of Carette's +distress, and watch the white clouds sailing slowly along the blue sky, +while my boat rose high and fell low in the black cleft, now ten feet up +with a rush and a swirl, then as many feet down, with deep gurglings and +rushing waterfalls from every ledge. She was getting sorely bruised against +the rough rock walls in spite of all my fendings, but there was no help for +it. + +I could make no plans till I knew where Carette was lodged, and that I +could not learn until it was dark, and I remembered gratefully that the new +moon was not due for several days yet. + +In thinking over things while I lay waiting, I took blame to myself, and +felt very great regret, that I had not taken the time to see my grandfather +and tell him about Torode. For if the night saw the end of me, as it very +well might, no other was cognisant of the matter, and Torode would go +unpunished. But go he would I felt sure, for he would never believe that it +was all still locked up in me. Of course Helier Le Marchant might have told +Jeanne Falla. But even then Jeanne Falla would only have on hearsay from +Helier what he had heard from me, whereas I was an eye-witness, and could +swear to the facts. And yet I could not but feel that if I had not got +across to Herm when I did, I should not have got across at all, and +Carette's welfare was more to me than the punishment of Torode. + +That day seemed as if it never would end. Sercq and Brecqhou lay basking in +the sun, as though no tragedies lurked behind their rounded bastions. The +sun seemed fixed in the sky. The shadows wheeled so slowly that only by +noting them against the seams in the rocks could I be sure that they moved +at all. Then even that was denied me, as the headland, in a cleft of whose +feet I lay, cut off the light, and flung its shadow out over the sea. + +But--"pas de rue sans but." At last the red beams struck level across the +water, and all the heads of Sercq and the black rocks of Brecqhou were +touched with golden fire. I could see the Autelets flaming under the red +Saignie cliffs; and the green bastion of Tintageu; and the belt of gleaming +sand in Grande Greve; and the razor back of the Coupee; and the green +heights above Les Fontaines; and all the sentinel rocks round Little Sercq. + +And then the colours faded and died, and Brecqhou became a part of Sercq +once more, and both were folded softly in a purple haze, and soon they were +shadows, and then they were gone. And I could not but think that I might +never see them again; and if I did not, that was just how I would have +wished to see them for the last time. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +HOW I FOUND MY LOVE IN THE CLEFT + + +Waited till the night seemed growing old to me, for the waiting in that +dark cleft was weary work, with the water, which I could no longer see, +swelling and sinking beneath me, carrying me up and up and up, pumping and +grinding against the unseen rocks, then down and down and down into the +depths, wet and wallowing, and fearful every moment of a wound beyond +repair to my frail craft. + +But at last I could wait no longer. With my hands in the rough wet walls I +hauled out of the cleft and started on my search for Carette. + +The shore thereabouts was a honeycomb of sharp-toothed rocks. I took an oar +over the stern and sculled slowly and silently out from the land. I turned +to the north and felt my way among the rocks, grazing here, bumping there, +but moving so gently that no great harm was done. + +I knew at last, by the changed voice of the sea on the shore, that I had +come to the first beach of shells, and there I turned the boat's nose in +and ran her softly aground. + +Here, where the heights of Herm run down in green slopes to the long flat +beaches, I drew the boat well up and crept to the other side of the Island, +keeping as close to the high ground as I dared. + +As soon as I came out on the western side I saw that work was still going +on busily in the little roadstead, and so far I was in time. The rocky +heights sloped gradually on that side also. The schooner had to lie in the +roads, and everything had to be conveyed to her by boat. There was much +traffic between her and the shore, and the work was carried on by the light +of many lamps. + +Now where would they have stowed Carette? On the ship? In one of the +cottages? In the natural prison where they had kept me? The only three +possibilities I had been able to think of. To reduce them to two I would +try the least hazardous first, and that was the prison in the rock. + +I had been carried to and from it blindfolded, but from what I had seen +from its windows I had formed a general idea as to where it lay. So I crept +back half-way towards the shell beach and then struck cautiously up towards +the tumbled masses of rock on the eastern side of the Island. + +It was chancy work at best, with a possible stumble up against death at +every step. But life without Carette--worse still, life with Carette in +thrall to young Torode--would be worse to me than death, and so I take no +credit to myself for risking it for her. It was hers already, it did but +seek its own. + +In daylight I could have gone almost straight to that cleft, steering my +course by the sea rocks I had noted from the window. But in the dark it was +different. I could only grope along in hope, with many a stop to wonder +where I had got to, and many a stumble and many a bruise. Stark darkness is +akin to blindness, and blindness in a strange land, and that a land of +rocks and chasms, is a vast perplexity. I wandered blindly and bruised +myself sorely, but suffered most from thought of the passing minutes, for +the minutes in which I might accomplish anything were numbered, and they +passed with no result. + +I was half minded to give up search for the cleft, and steal down to the +houses and see what I could learn there. And yet I was drawn most strongly +to that cleft in the rock. + +If only I could find it and satisfy myself! + +My wandering thoughts and wandering body came to sudden and violent pause +at bottom of a chasm. I had stepped incautiously, and found myself a mass +of bruises on the rocks below. I felt sore all over, but I could stand and +I could stretch my arms, so no bones were broken. + +I rubbed the sorest bruises into some approach to comfort, and wondered +where I had got to. I could feel rock walls on either side, and the rocks +below seemed roughly levelled. With a catch of the breath, which spelled a +mighty hope, I began to grope my way along, and found that the way sloped +up and down. I turned and groped up it. On, and on, and on, and at last I +brought up suddenly against iron bars, and knew where I was. And never, +sure, to any man was the feel of iron bars so grateful as was the touch of +these to me. + +I shook them gently, but the gate was locked. I strained my ears for any +sound inside, strained them so that I heard the breaking of the waves on +the rock below the window at the other end of the rock chamber. + +Then I cried softly, "Carette!"--and listened--and thought I heard a +movement. + +"Carette!" I cried again. + +And out of that blessed darkness, and the doubt and the bewilderment, came +the sweetest voice in all the world, in a scared whisper, as one doubtful +of her own senses-- + +"Who is it? Who calls?" + +"It is I, Carette--Phil Carre;" and in a moment she was against the bars, +and my hands touched her and hers touched me. + +"Phil!" she cried, in vast amazement, and clung tight to my hands to make +sure. "Is it possible? Oh, my dear, is it truly, truly you? I knew your +voice, but--I thought I dreamed, and then I thought it the voice of the +dead. You are not dead, Phil?" with a doubtful catch in her breath, as +though a doubt had caught her suddenly by the throat. + +"But no! I am not dead, my dear one;" and I drew the dear little hands +through the bars and covered them with hot kisses. + +"But how come you here, Phil? What brings you here?" + +"You yourself, Carette. What else?" + +"Bon Dieu, but it is good to hear you again, Phil! Can you get me out? They +carried me off this morning--" + +"I know. I reached Sercq this morning, and Krok brought us the word an hour +later. I have been trying ever since to find where you were. I knew this +place, for I was prisoner here myself for many weeks." + +"You, Phil?" + +"Truly yes. This Torode is a murderer and worse. He fights under both +flags. He is Main Rouge in France and Torode of Herm. He slaughtered John +Ozanne and all our crew before my eyes, and why my life was spared I know +not." + +"If he sees you he will kill you." + +"Or I kill him." + +"Phil, he will kill you. Oh, go!--go quick and rouse the Sercq men and +Peter Port. You need not fear for me. I will never wed with young +Torode--not if they kill me for it--" + +And my heart was glad in spite of its heaviness and perplexity. + +"When will they come to you again, Carette? And who is it comes?" + +"A woman--madame, I suppose. She brought me my supper. I think they are +going away." + +"Yes, they are going. They are going because I have come back alive, and +Torode knows the game is up if I get to Peter Port." + +And that started her off again on that string, but I understood the tune of +it quite well. + +"That is it," she urged. "Get across to Peter Port, Phil, and rouse them +there, and stop their going." But she only said it to get me away out of +danger, and I knew it. + +"Peter Port can wait the news, and Torode can wait his dues. I am not going +till I take you with me, Carette." + +"They will kill you!" she cried, and let go my hands to wring her own. + +"Not if I can help it," I said stubbornly. "I want to live and I want you, +and God fights on the right side. If they do get you away, Carette, +remember that if I am alive I will follow you to the end of the world." + +"They will kill you," she repeated. + +"They are very busy loading the schooner. If the woman comes to you in the +morning I shall be able to get you out. My boat waits on the shell beach." + +"You would do better to get round to Peter Port," she persisted. + +"Torode would be off before they would be ready. If it was one man to +convince he would act, but where there are many time is wasted. I will see +you safe first and then see to Torode;" and seeing that I was fixed on +this, she urged my going no more. + +She gave me her hands again through the bars and I kissed them, and kissed +them again and again, and would not let them go. That which lay just close +ahead of us was heavy with possibilities of separation and death, but I had +never tasted happiness so complete as I did through those iron bars. The +rusty bars could keep us apart, but they could not keep the pure hot love +that filled us from head to foot from thrilling through by way of our +clasped hands. + +"Kiss me, Phil!" she said, of a sudden. + +And I pressed my face into the rough bars, and could just touch her sweet +lips with mine. + +"We may never come closer, dear," she said. "But if they kill you I will +follow soon, and--oh, it is good to feel you here!" + +When the first wild joy of our uncovered hearts permitted us to speak of +other things, she had much to ask and I much to tell. I told her most of my +story, but said no word as yet of her brother Helier, for she had quite +enough to bear. + +And, through all her askings, I could catch unconscious glimpses of the +faith and hope and love she had borne for me all through those weary +months. She had never believed me dead, she said, though John Ozanne and +all his men had long since been given up in Peter Port. + +"Your mother and I hoped on, Phil, in spite of them all; for the world was +not all dark to us, and if you had been dead I think it would have been." + +"And it was thought of you, Carette,--of you and my mother,--that kept my +heart up in the prison. It was weary work, but when I thought of you I felt +strong and hopeful." + +"I am glad," she said simply. "We have helped one another." + +"And we will do yet. I am going to get you out of this." + +"The good God help you!" + +When the night began to thin I told her I must go, though it would not be +out of hearing. + +"Be ready the moment I open the gate," I said, "for every second will be of +consequence. Now, good-bye, dearest!" and we kissed once more through the +rusty bars, and I stole away. + +The passage in the rock which led up to the gate was a continuation of the +natural cleft which formed the chamber. The slope of the rocks left the +gateway no more than eight or nine feet high, though, at the highest point +inside, the roof of the chamber was perhaps twenty feet above the floor. +The same slope continued outside, so that the side walls of the passage +were some eight or nine feet high, and fell almost straight to the rock +flooring. Both cleft and passage were made, I think, like the clefts and +caves on Sercq, by the decay of a softer vein of rock in the harder +granite, so leaving, in course of time, a straight cleavage, which among +the higher rocks formed the chamber, and on the lower slope formed the +passage up to it. + +My very simple plan was to lie in wait, crouched flat upon the top wall of +the passage close to the gateway, and from there to spring down upon the +unsuspecting warder, whoever it might be--Torode, or his wife, or any +other. And by such unlooked-for attack I hoped to win the day, even though +it should be Torode himself who came. But I did not believe it would be +Torode, for he had his hands full down below, and Carette was to him only a +very secondary matter. + +I half hoped it might be young Torode, for the hurling of my hatred on him +would have been grateful to me. But I thought it would be the mother, and +in that case, though I would use no more violence than might be necessary, +nothing should keep me from Carette. + +I lay flat on the rough rock wall and waited. "Carette!" I whispered. + +"Phil!" + +"I am here just above you, dearest. When you hear them coming, be ready." + +The thin darkness was becoming gray. In the sky up above, little clouds +were forming out of the shadows, and presently they were flecked with pink, +and all reached out towards the rising sun. The rocks below me began to +show their heads. It was desperately hard work waiting. I hungered +anxiously for someone to come and let me be doing. + +What if they left her till the very last, and only came up, several of +them, to hurry her on board the schooner? The possibility of that chilled +me more than the morning dews. My face pinched with anxiety in accord with +my heart. I felt grim and hard and fit for desperate deeds. + +And now it was quite light, and I could see across the lower slope of rocks +to St. Sampson's harbour and the flat lands beyond it. + +Would they never come? Hell is surely an everlasting waiting for something +that never comes. + +I was growing sick with anxiety when at last the blessed sound of footsteps +on the rocky path came to me, and in a moment I was Phil Carre again, and +Carette Le Marchant, the dearest and sweetest girl in all the world, was +locked behind iron bars just below me, and I was going to release her or +die for it. + +But my heart gave a triumphant jump, and there was no need to think of +death, for the coming one was a woman, and she came up the ascent with bent +head and carried food in her hands. + +I let her get right to the gate, then, from my knees, launched myself onto +her, and she went down against the bars in a heap, bruising her face badly. +But Carette was all my thought. Before the woman knew what had struck her, +I had her hands tied behind her with twisted strips of her own apron, and +had gagged her with a bunch of the same, and had the key in the lock, and +Carette was free. + +The woman was dazed still with her fall. We bound her feet with a strip of +blanket and laid her on the bed, locked the gate again behind us, and sped +down the rocky way till a gap let us out into the open. Then swiftly among +the humps of rock, hand in hand, down the slope, towards the shell beach +where the boat lay. I had left it close under the last of the high ground, +and had drawn it well up out of reach of the tide, as I believed. But there +was no boat there. The beach lay shining in the sun, bare and white, and my +heart gave a jerk of dismay. + +"There it is!" panted Carette, pointing the opposite way along the shore. +And there, among a tumbled heap of rocks, whose heads just showed above the +water, I saw my boat mopping and mowing at me in the grip of the tide. + +I ran along to the nearest point on the beach, calling over my shoulder to +Carette, "If they come after you, take to the water; I will pick you +up,"--and dashed in, as we used to do in the olden days, till the water +tripped me up, and then swam my fastest for the boat, and thanked God that +swimming came so natural to me. + +I had the boat back to the beach and Carette aboard within a few minutes, +and we each took an oar and pulled for Brecqhou with exultant hearts. We +thought our perils were past--and they were but just beginning. + +For as we cleared the eastern point which juts out into the sea, and opened +Jethou and the dark channel between the two islands, our eyes lighted +together on a boat which was just about to turn the corner into the Herm +roadstead. Another minute and it would have been gone, and we should have +been free. + +I stopped rowing and made to back in again out of sight, but it was not to +be. They sighted us at the same moment, and in an instant were tugging at +their oars to get their boat round, while we bent and pulled for our lives. + +Fortunately for us, the tide was running swiftly between the islands, and +the time it took them to get round gave us a start. Moreover, their course, +till they got clear of the land, was set thick with perils, and they had to +go cautiously, while nothing but clear sea lay between us and Brecqhou. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +HOW I HELD THE NARROW WAY + + +And so, once again I was pulling for dear life, and now indeed for more +than life, with death, and more than death, coming on astern in venomous +jerks and vicious leaps. + +Carette's soft hands were not equal to work of this kind, and she saw it. +There were but the two oars in the boat. I bade her hand me hers, and she +did it instantly, sliding it along to my rowlock and losing but a single +stroke. + +The odds were somewhat against us, but not so much as I feared. For, if I +was single-handed against their six oars, their boat was heavier, and +carried four armed men in addition to the oarsmen. + +But I saw that Brecqhou would be impossible to us, and moreover must prove +but a cul-de-sac if we got there, for at best there were but two sick men +there, and they could give us no help. The house indeed might offer us +shelter for a time, but the end would only be delayed. So I edged off from +Brecqhou, thinking to run for Havre Gosselin, and then, with senses +quickened to the occasion, I saw that Havre Gosselin would serve us no +better. + +Port es Saies, Grande Greve, Vermandes, Les Fontaines, Port Gorey,--I ran +them rapidly through my mind and saw the same objection to all. For in +all, the ascent to the high lands was toilsome and difficult, and one, so +climbing, could be picked off with a musket from below as easily as a +rabbit or a sitting gull. And that any mercy would be shown, to one of us +at all events, I did not for one moment delude myself. I saw again the +round hole bore itself in John Ozanne's forehead, and Helier Le Marchant's +dead body lying in the boat. + +But past Gorey, where the south-west gales have bitten deep into the +headlands, there were places where a quick leap might carry one ashore at +cost of one's boat, and then among the ragged black rocks a creeping course +might be found where bullets could not follow. + +So I turned for Little Sercq, and rowed for dear life and that which was +dearer still, and the venomous prow behind followed like a hound on the +scent. + +The black fangs of Les Dents swept past us. La Baveuse lay ahead. If I +could get past Moie de Bretagne before they could cripple me I would have +good hope, for thereabouts the sea was strewn with rocks and I knew my way +as they did not. + +They were gaining on me, but not enough for their liking. I saw the glint +of a musket barrel in the sun. + +"Lie down, dearest," I said sharply. + +But she had seen it too, and understood. + +"I will not," she said. "The wind is with us, and I help." + +But in her mind she believed they would not shoot her, and she sat between +me and them. + +It was no time for argument. Safety for both of us lay in my arms and legs, +and their power to gain a landing and get up the slope before the others +could damage them. I accepted her sacrifice, and set my teeth, and strove +to pull harder still. + +Young Torode himself was distinguishable in the boat behind, and I knew his +passion for her and did not believe he would deliberately attempt her life. +Nor do I now. Possibly his intent was only to frighten us, but when bullets +fly, lives are cheap. + +Torode himself stood up in the stern of his boat, and levelled at us, and +fired. But the shot went wide, and I only pulled the harder, and was not +greatly in fear, for shooting from a jumping boat is easy, but hitting a +jumping mark is quite another matter. + +We drove past Moie de Bretagne, with the green seas leaping up its fretted +sides and lacing them with rushing white threads as they fell. How often +had Carette and I sat watching that white lacery of the rocks and swum out +through the tumbling green to see it closer still. Good times they were, +and my thought shot through them like an arrow as we swung past Rouge Cane +Bay and opened Gorey. + +But these times were better, even though death came weltering close behind +us. For, come what might, we were man and woman, and all the man within me, +and what there might be of God, clave to this sweet woman who sat before +me--who sat of her own choice between me and death--and I knew that she +loved me as I loved her, and my heart was full and glad in spite of the +hunting Death behind. + +We were in among the tumbled rocks. I knew them like a book. We swept +across the dark mouth of Gorey. In among the ragged heads and weltering +white surf of the Pierres-a-Beurre; past the sounding cave where the +souffleur blows his spray a hundred feet into the south-west gale. We swung +on a rushing green-white swirl towards a black shelf, behind which lies a +deep dark pool in a mighty hollow worn smooth and round with the ceaseless +grinding of the stones that no tide can ever lift. + +"Ready!" I cried. + +And at the next wave we leaped together, and the hand that I held in mine +was steadier than my own, for mine was all of a shake with the strain. + +Without a look behind we dived in among the black rocks, and a bullet +spatted white alongside. + +Now we were hidden from them for the moment, until they should land and +follow. We scrambled up the yellow grit above, joined hands, and raced +along the rabbit tracks, through waist-high bracken and clumps of gorse, +for the Coupee. + +"If they follow,..." I panted as I ran, "... I will hold them at the +Coupee.... No danger.... Behind pillar.... You run on and rouse +neighbours.... Our only chance.... They can shoot us as we run." + +She had been going to object, but saw that I was right, and on we +went--past the old mill, past the old fort, and a bullet buzzed by my head +like a droning beetle. Down the narrow way to the razor of a path that led +to Sercq, and half the way along it, I ran with her. Then-- + +"Go!" I panted, and flung myself behind the great rock pillar that +buttressed the path on the Grande Greve side and towered high above me. + +She ran on obediently, and one shot followed her, for which I cursed the +shooter and heard young Torode do the same. I was their quarry; but one, +in the lust of the chase, had lost his head. + +I leaned panting against the rock, and saw Carette's skirts disappear over +the brow of the Common at the Sercq end, with thankfulness past words. For +myself, I was safe enough. No shot could reach me so long as I kept cover. +From no point on Little Sercq could they snap at me by any amount of +climbing. I was as safe as if in a fortress, and Carette was speeding to +rouse the neighbours, and all was well. + +I had no weapon, it is true, and if they had the sense and the courage to +come in a body along the narrow way, things might go ill with me. The first +comer, and the second, I could dispose of, but if the others came close +behind they could end me, as I fought. But I did not believe they would +have the courage, even though they saw it was the only possible chance. For +that knife-edge of a path--two hundred yards in length and but two feet +wide in places, with the sea breaking on the rocks three hundred feet below +on each side--set unaccustomed heads swimming, and put tremors into legs +that were steady even at sea. + +My sudden disappearance had puzzled them. They were discussing the matter +with heat, and I could hear young Torode's voice above the rest urging them +forward and girding at their lack of courage. Their broken growls came back +to me also. + +"Girl's yours, 'tis for you to follow her." + +"Fools!" said Torode. "If he escapes, your necks are in the noose." + +"He's down cliff, and she ran on." + +"We'd have seen him fall. He's behind one of them stacks, an'--" + +"Not me--on an edge like that--and ne'er a rope to lay hold of." + +"Ropewalking's no part of a seaman's duty,"--and the like, while Torode +stormed between whiles and cursed them for cowards. + +"Bien!" I heard at last. "If you are all such curs, I'll go myself. If he +shows, shoot him. You're brave enough for that. He can't hurt you." + +I heard his steps along the narrow path, and wrenched out a chunk of rock +from the crumbling pillar to heave at him. + +He came on cautiously, and I stood with the missile poised to hurl the +moment he appeared. He was evidently in doubt as to my hiding-place. I +pressed away round the pillar as far as I dared--till another step must +have landed me on the rocks below. I wanted him in sight before I showed +myself, for one chance was all I could expect. + +The men behind watched him in silence now. I held my breath. A second or +two would decide the matter between us. + +A musket barrel came poking round my bastion, but I was balanced like a fly +on the seaward side. Then Torode's dark eyes met mine as he peered +cautiously round the corner. He fired instantly, and my footing was too +precarious to let me even duck. My left arm tingled and went numb, but +before he could draw a pistol I stepped to safer ground and launched my +rock at him. It caught him lower than I intended, but that was the result +of my insecure foothold. I meant it for his head. It took him between neck +and shoulder. He dropped like an ox, and his musket went clattering down +the steep. He lay still across the path, very near to the place where, as +I looked, I could see again Black Boy's straining eyes and pitiful +scrabbling feet as he hung for a moment before falling into the gulf. + +A howl and a burst of curses from the cautious ones behind greeted his +fall, but I heard no sound of footsteps coming to their leader's +assistance. + +With another rock I could have smashed him where he lay, and at small risk +to myself; but hurling rocks in hot blood is one thing and smashing fallen +men is another; and Torode, lying on his face, was safer from harm than +Torode on his feet with his gun in his hand. + +There was excited discussion among his followers, the necessity of securing +the wounded man evidently prompting them to an attempt, but no man showing +himself desirous of first honours. + +But presently I heard a shuffling approach along the path, hands and knees +evidently, and Torode's body was pulled slowly out of my sight. And then, +along the narrow way that leads up into Sercq, there came the sound of many +feet, and I knew that all was well. + +They came foaming up over the brow, an urgent crowd--Abraham Guille from +Clos Bourel, and Abraham Guille from Dos d'Ane, William Le Masurier from La +Jaspellerie, Henri Le Masurier from Grand Dixcart, Thomas Godfray from +Dixcart, and Thomas De Carteret from La Vauroque--just as Carette had come +across them and told them of my need. They had snatched their guns from the +hanging racks and come at once. + +They gave a shout at sight of me behind the stack and Torode's body being +dragged slowly up the path. The Herm men gave them a hasty volley and went +off over Little Sercq towards Gorey, two of them carrying young Torode +between them, and the Sercq men came running across the Coupee to greet me. + +"Sercq wins!" cried one. + +"Wounded, Phil?" asked another, at sight of my arm, which hung limp and +bleeding. + +"A scratch on the shoulder. Torode fired and I downed him with a rock." + +"Shall we follow them and give them a lesson?" + +"Let them go," I said. "I have got all I wanted, since Carette is safe." + +"Come, then. She is just round the corner there, getting her breath. We +wouldn't let her come any nearer. And here comes your grandfather." + +My grandfather took me to his arms with much emotion. + +"Now, God be thanked!" he said, in his great deep voice, which shook as he +said it. "You are come back as from the dead, my boy. I had given you up +before, and when I knew you had gone across to Herm I gave you up again. +Jeanne Falla told me what poor Helier Le Marchant had told her." + +"Jean Le Marchant and Martin were lying sick on Brecqhou--" + +"They are safe at Beaumanoir." + +"Carette does not know about Helier yet." + +"Better so for the present. We buried him yesterday on Brecqhou. She +believed him dead long since, as did the others." + +Carette jumped up out of the heather, at sound of our voices, and came +running towards us. + +"Oh, Phil!" she cried, and flung her arms about my neck before them all, +and made me a very happy and satisfied man. + +"You are wounded?" she cried, at sight of blood on my sleeve. "Oh, what is +it?" + +"It is only a trifle, and you have spoiled your sleeve." + +"I will keep it so always. Dear stain!" and she bent and kissed the mark my +blood had left. + +I thanked the neighbours for coming so promptly to my help, and as we stood +for a moment at the road leading to Dos d'Ane, where Abraham Guille would +break off to get back to his work, my grandfather stopped them. + +"Phil brings us strange and monstrous news," he said weightily. "It is well +you should know, for we may need your neighbourly help again. John Ozanne's +ship was sunk by the French, privateer, _Main Rouge_, and John Ozanne +himself and such of his men as tried to save themselves were shot in the +water as they swam for their lives, and that was cold-blooded murder. Phil +here saw what was toward and saved his life by floating under a spar and +sail. And this Main Rouge who did this thing is Torode of Herm--" + +At which they broke into exclamations of astonishment. "He fought under +both flags. No wonder he waxed so fat! He knows that Phil has his secret. I +fear he will give us no rest, and it is well the matter should be known to +others in case--you understand." + +"He is preparing to leave Herm," I said. "They were loading the schooner +all night long. I ought to have gone across to Peter Port to lay my +information before them there, but, you understand, Carette was more +important to me. But surely Sercq need fear nothing from Herm," I said, +looking round on them. + +"Ah, you don't know," said my grandfather. "We are but few here just now. +So many are away--to the wars and the free-trading. How many men does +Torode carry?" + +"With those on Herm, sixty to eighty, I should say." + +"He could harry us to his heart's content if he knew it;" and Abraham +Guille went off soberly to Dos d'Ane, and the rest of us went on to our +homes. + +My grandfather was full of thought, and I saw that he was anxious on our +account. And now that the excitement was over, my shoulder began to throb +and shoot. Every movement was painful to it, and I felt suddenly worn out +and very weary. Carette must have seen it in my face, for she said-- + +"Lean on me, Phil dear. Aunt Jeanne will doctor you as soon as we get +there;" and I leaned on her, for the touch of her was very comforting to +me, and my right arm was happy if my left was not, and I was content. + +"Go on to Jeanne Falla, you two," said my grandfather, when we came to La +Vauroque, "and ask her to see to your arm, Phil. She is a famous doctor. I +must see George Hamon." + +Aunt Jeanne cut away the sleeves of my coat and shirt, and saw to my wound +with the tenderest care, and many a bitter word for the cause of it. The +bullet had gone clean through the muscles and had probably grazed the bone, +she thought, but had not broken it. She washed it, and bound it up with +soft rags and simples of her own compounding, while Carette fetched and +carried for her. Then she set my arm in a sling, and but for the fact that +I had only one arm to use, and so felt very lopsided, and deadly tired, I +was still in much greater content than two whole arms and the highest of +spirits had ever found me. + +I was also feeling very empty, though with no great appetite for food. But +she insisted on my eating and drinking, and saw to it herself in her sharp, +masterful way. + +She was tying the sling behind my neck when my grandfather and George Hamon +came in together. + +Uncle George gave me very hearty greeting, and they complimented Aunt +Jeanne on her handiwork, and then asked her advice, and all the while I was +in fear lest some incautious word from one or the other should weight +Carette's heart with over-sudden news of her brother's death. + +"Jeanne Falla, we want your views," said my grandfather. "It is in my mind +that Torode will come back for these two. Phil holds his life in his hand. +What others know is hearsay, but Phil can swear to it. I cannot believe he +will rest while Phil lives. He can bring sixty or eighty ruffians down on +us, and I doubt if we can put thirty against them. What does your wit +suggest?" + +"Ma fe!" said Aunt Jeanne, "you are right. Torode will be after them, and +they are not safe here. Can you not get them over to Peter Port, or to +Jersey?" + +"They are watching the ways," I said, for I was loth to start on any fresh +voyaging now that Carette and home were to my hand. "Their boats were out +all night on the look-out." + +"We might get through one way or another, if we started at once," said my +grandfather, looking doubtfully at me. + +"I can't do another thing till I've had some rest," I said. "It is so long +since I slept that I cannot remember when it was;" and indeed, what with +want of food, and want of sleep, and loss of blood, now that the +excitement was over I was feeling weary unto death. + +"Then hide them," said Aunt Jeanne. "George Hamon knows hiding-places, I +trow,"--at which Uncle George grinned knowingly. "And if Torode comes, +swear they are safe in Peter Port. One does not cut gorse without gloves, +and lies to such as Torode don't count. Bon Gyu, non!" + +"That is right," said Uncle George, "and what I advised myself. Philip +thinks we might hold them at arm's length, but--" + +"It would mean many lives and to no purpose, may be, in the end," said Aunt +Jeanne, shaking her head. + +"I can hide them where none will ever find them," said Uncle George. + +"Ma fe! it does not sound too tempting," said Carette. + +"Since we are together, I am content," I said; for rest and the assurance +of Carette's safety were the only things I cared about just then. + +"Bien! So am I," said Carette. "When will you put us in the hole?" + +"At once. Torode is not the man to waste time when so much is at stake." + +"And how long will you keep us there?" she asked. + +"That may depend on Torode," said Uncle George. "But no longer than is +necessary." + +"Ma fe, it may be days! We must take food--" + +"There is a pie and a ham, and I made bread and gache to-day," said Aunt +Jeanne, picking up a big basket and beginning to pack it with all she could +think of and lay hands on. + +"Water?" asked Carette. + +"Plenty of water, both salt and fresh," said Uncle George. + +"All the same, a can of milk won't hurt," said Aunt Jeanne. "Carette, ma +fille, fill the biggest you can find." + +"And Mistress Falla will give us two sacks of hay to soften the rocks," +said Uncle George, "and a lantern and some candles, lest they get +frightened of one another in the dark,"--which I knew could never happen. +All the same, Carette asked, "Is it dark there _all_ the time?" + +"Not quite dark all the time, but a light is cheerful." + +"Lend me a pipe, Uncle George," I said, and the good fellow emptied his +pockets for me. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +HOW WE WENT TO EARTH + + +So presently we set out, all laden to the extent of our powers, and went +first to Belfontaine, since our way lay past it. And there my mother fell +gratefully on Carette and me, as though she had feared she might never see +either of us again, and I was well pleased to see the tender feeling that +lay between these two who were dearest to me in all the world. + +"Wherever George Hamon puts you you will be safe," said my mother, at which +Uncle George's face shone happily, "and I hope it will not be for long." + +"Not for long," nodded my grandfather, with assurance. "We must give +Monsieur Torode business of his own to attend to nearer home. Once Peter +Port knows all we know, his fat will be in the fire." + +"And the sooner the better," said Carette. + +"And Krok?" I asked, tardily enough, though not through lack of thought of +him. + +"Your grandfather thinks he must have broken a blood-vessel yesterday. He +is in there." + +And I went in, and found him sitting up in great excitement at all the +talking. I shook him very heartily by the hand and clapped him on the back +and told him how much we were indebted to him, and how it was his prompt +warning that enabled me to get across to Herm before they set their patrol +boats--and very briefly of what had passed and was toward, and so left him, +content and cheerful. + +My mother would have added to our supplies, but we had as much as we could +carry, and enough, we thought, for the term of our probable imprisonment. +So we bade her farewell, and went on across the fields, past La Moinerie +towards the Eperquerie. + +"We are going to the Boutiques," I said. + +"My Boutiques," said Uncle George, with a laugh. And, instead of going on +to that dark chasm whose steep black walls and upstanding boulders lead one +precariously into the caves with which we were familiar, he turned aside to +another narrower gash in the tumbled rocks, and we stood on the brink +wondering where he would take us. For, well as we knew the nooks and +crannies thereabouts, we had never found entrance here. + +We stood looking down into the narrow chasm. The tide was still churning +among its slabs and boulders, and the inner end showed no opening into the +cliff, nothing but piles of rounded pebbles and stranded tangles of vraic. +We thought he had made a mistake. + +But he looked quietly down into the boiling pot below, and said, "We have +still an hour to wait. The tide is higher than I thought." So we sat on the +short salt turf and waited. + +"Tiens!" said Carette, pointing suddenly. And looking, we saw three boats +pull out from the channel between Herm and Jethou. One came past us towards +the north-east, and Uncle George made us lie flat behind gorse cushions +till it was out of sight round Bec du Nez, though by crawling a little way +up the head we could see it lying watchfully about a mile away. Another +went off round Little Sercq to stop any communication with Jersey. The +third lay in the way between Sercq and Peter Port. + +"M. Torode shuts the doors," said my grandfather tersely. "B'en! we will +try in the dark." + +Between the softness of the turf and the heat of the sun and my great +weariness, I was just on the point of falling asleep, when Uncle George +came back from a look at his cleft, and picked up his loads, and said, +"Come!" and five minutes later we were standing behind him in the salt +coolness of the little black chasm, among the slabs and boulders and the +fresh sea pools. And still we saw no entrance. + +But he went to the inner side of a great slab that lay wedged against the +wall of the chasm, and, stooping there, dragged out rock after rock, +cunningly piled so that the waves could not displace them, until a small +opening was disclosed behind the leaning slab. It was no more than three +feet high, and we had to creep in on our hands and knees, which my +grandfather, from his size and stiffness, found no easy matter. + +The tunnel led straight in for a space of twenty feet or so, and then +struck upwards, with a very rough floor which made no easy crawling ground, +and a roof set with ragged rocks for unwary heads. The little light that +came in round the corner of the slab in the dark chasm very soon left us, +and we crawled on in the dark, hoping, one of us at all events, that the +road was not a long one. And suddenly we breathed more freely and found a +welcome space above our heads. + +Uncle George struck flint and steel and lit a candle, and we found +ourselves in a long narrow chamber, which looked just a fault in the +rocks, or the space out of which the softer stuff had sunk away. The roof +we could not see, but from the slope of the walls on either side I thought +they probably met at a point a great way up, and the narrow crack of a cave +ran far beyond our sight. + +"My Boutiques," said Uncle George, "and no man--no living man but myself +has ever been here till now, so far as I know." And round the walls we saw +a very large number of neatly piled kegs and packages, at which my +grandfather said, "Ah ha, mon beau!" and Uncle George smiled cheerfully in +the candle-light. + +"The Great Boutiques lie over there," he said, pointing. "There are +communications, high up along the cross shelves. But they need not trouble +you. I am quite certain no man but myself knows them. So if you hear the +waves tumbling about in the big cave you don't need to be frightened." + +"And how far does this go?" asked my grandfather, trying to see the end. + +"Right through the Eperquerie. It runs into a water cave there. Its mouth +is below tide level, but sometimes the light comes through. If you want +brandy, Phil, broach a keg. If you want more tobacco, open a package." + +"And water?" asked Carette. + +"About fifty yards along there on the right in a hollow place. You can't +miss it." + +"Keep your hearts up, my children," said my grandfather. "You will be quite +safe here. Our work lies outside, and we must get back. George will come to +you as soon as the way is clear. God be with you!" + +"You are quite sure there are no ghosts about, Uncle George?" asked +Carette in a half-scared whisper, for she was still a devout believer in +all such things. + +"I've never seen the ghost of one," said Uncle George, with a laugh. "Here, +Phil! Take this!" and he handed me from his pocket an old flint-lock +pistol, of which I knew he had a pair. "You won't need it, but it makes one +feel bolder to carry it. If you see any ghosts, blaze away at them, and if +you hit them we'll nail their bodies up outside to scare away the rest." + +Then, still laughing, to cheer us, I think, they bade us good-bye and went +off down the tunnel. + +Carette was already spreading out the hay, which Uncle George and my +grandfather had got through the narrow ways with difficulty. Their voices +died away and we were alone, and I was so heavy that, from sitting on the +hay, I rolled over on it, and was asleep before I lay flat. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +HOW LOVE COULD SEE IN THE DARK + + +Carette says I slept through three days and nights, but that is only one of +her little humours. When I woke, however, I was in infinitely better case +than before, and as she herself was fast asleep she may have been so all +the time. + +It was quite dark. The candle had either burned out or she had extinguished +it. But in the extraordinary silence of that still place I could hear her +soft breathing not far away, and I lay a long time listening to it. It was +so calm and regular and trustful, as though no harmful and threatening +things were in the world, that it woke a new spirit of confident hope in +me, and I lay and listened, and thought sweet warm thoughts of her. + +It seemed a long time, and yet not one whit too long, before the soft +breathing lost its evenness, and at last I could not hear it at all, and +knew she was waking. And presently she stirred, and after a time she said +softly-- + +"Phil ... are you awake?" + +"Yes, my dear," I said, sitting up, and feeling first for her, for love of +the feel of her, and then in my pockets for my flint and steel. + +"How still it is, and how very dark!" she whispered. + +"I'll soon see how you're looking;" and my sparks caught in the tinder and +I lit a candle. + +"You slept very sound," said she, blinking at the light. + +"I had not slept for nearly ninety hours, and they had held more for me +than any ninety weeks before. But it was rude of me to go off like that and +leave you all alone." + +"You could no more help it than I can help being very hungry. You have +slept three days and three nights, I believe. I wonder George Hamon is not +back for us." + +"Let's look at the milk," I said, and tasted it and found it sweet. + +"That's because the air here is so cool and even," said Carette. + +"Well, I feel all the better, anyway, and so do you, I'll be bound. I'm +beginning to think, you know, that we were over fearful perhaps, and that +we need not have come hiding here at all." + +"We'll know better when we hear what's going on outside. Your grandfather +and George Hamon are not men to be over fearful, and they thought it well." + +"That is so," I said, feeling better at that. + +"I wonder if it is day or night, and how long we've really been in here?" + +"Long enough to be hungry, anyway," I said, heartily ready to eat. And we +fell to on Aunt Jeanne's ham and rabbit pie, Carette cutting up all I ate +into small pieces with my knife, since we had forgotten to bring any other. +We drank up the milk out of the big-bellied tin can, and never was there +sweeter milk or sweeter can, for Carette had first drink. And then, lest +it should get foul, we started off to find the fresh water to wash it out +and bring back a supply. + +There was no mistaking the hollow place where the fresh water was. The +light of the lantern fell on many a narrow rift in the walls of rock on +either side, all sharp cracks and fissures, with rough-toothed edges, as +though the solid granite had been split with mighty hammer-strokes. The +seams were all awry, and the lines and cracks were all sharp and straight, +though running into one another and across in great confusion. And, of a +sudden, in the midst of this tangle of straight clefts and sharp-pointed +angles, we came on a little rounded niche where the wall was scooped out in +a graceful curve from about our own height to the ground. It was all as +smooth and softly rounded as if wrought by a mason's chisel, and as we +stood looking at it with surprise, because it was so different from all the +rest, a movement of the lantern showed us a greater wonder still. At our +feet, in a smooth round basin, bubbled the spring, and looked so like a +great dark eye looking up at us in a dumb fury that we both stood stark +still staring back at it. + +The dark water rushed up from below in coils and writhings like the up-leap +of the tide in the Gouliot Pass, and our lantern set golden rings in it +which floated brokenly from the centre to the sides, and gave to it a +strange look of life and understanding. So strong was the pressure from +below that the centre of the little pool seemed higher than the sides. It +looked as though the pent-up force within was striving all the time to +shoot up to the roof and any moment might succeed. + +But the strangest thing of all was that with all this look of hidden power +there was no sound, and no drop of water overflowed the hollow basin. The +ground we stood on was a slab of solid rock and dry as bone,--no splash, no +sound, no drop outside,--only the silent and powerful up-thrust of the +water from below, the silent golden rings that tumbled to the sides of the +basin, and the constant expectation of something more which never came. + +It was Carette's quick understanding that named it. + +"It is like Krok," she whispered, and the word was said. It was all as like +Krok--not the outside man, but the inner Krok, dumb and powerful, silently +doing his appointed work--as anything that could be imagined. + +"Yes," I said. "It is like Krok. It is very wonderful--running like that +all through, the ages--since the cave was made anyway--very wonderful." + +She stooped to dip her hand and taste it, and then drew back. + +"It looks as if it would bite," she said, and I took off the lid of the can +and scooped up a draught and drank it. + +"The sweetest water I ever tasted, and cold as ice. It is as good as the +water at La Tour." + +Then she drank also, and then she washed out the milk-can, but would not +pour the dirty water back into the basin. "It would be an offence," she +said simply, and I felt the same. + +Then we left our can there and went on along the cleft, which grew narrower +and narrower till we could only go singly. And so we came at last into a +sound of waters in front, and going cautiously, found ourselves in a +somewhat wider place, with dull waves tumbling hollowly at our feet. + +Carette crept to my side, and I held the lantern up and out, but we could +see only a rough, black-arched roof and ragged rock walls, and a welter of +black waves which broke sullenly against the shelving path on which we +stood, as though driven in there against their will. + +"This is the water-cave Uncle George spoke of, but I don't see any light." + +"Perhaps it's night outside," said Carette in a whisper. "Let us get back, +Phil. I don't like this place. The waves look as if they were dead." + +So we went back the way we had come, and she pressed still closer to me as +we passed the little hollow in which the spring churned on, noiseless, and +ceaseless, and untiring, and seemed to look up at us with a knowing eye as +our lantern set the yellow gleams writhing and twisting in it. We watched +it for a time, it looked so like breaking into sound every next moment. But +no sound came, and we picked up our can and went on. + +"I do wish I knew if it is to-day or to-morrow," said Carette. + +"Without doubt it is to-day." + +"I don't believe it, Phil. It's either to-morrow or the day after, or the +day after that." + +"But that milk would never have kept sweet." + +"It would keep sweet a very long time here. The air is so fresh and cool." + +"Well, even if it's to-morrow it's still to-day," I argued. + +"I know. But what I want to know is--how long we've been in here, and it +feels to me like days and days." + +But it was impossible to say how long we had slept, and until we got some +outside light on the matter we could not decide it. + +So we gathered our beds into cushions and sat there side by side, and since +our supply of candles was not a very large one, and I could feel her in the +dark quite as well as in the light, I lit my pipe and put the lantern out. +And bit by bit she began to tell me of the dreary days when they waited for +news of me, and hope grew sick in them, but they would not let it die. + +"Your mother was an angel and a saint, and a strong tower, Phil,--so sweet +and good. How she made me long for a mother of my own!" + +"You shall have a share of mine!" + +"I've made sure of my share already. It made the ache easier just to be +with her, and so I went often to Belfontaine, and she never failed me. She +was always full of hope and confidence. 'He will come back to us, my dear,' +she would say. 'And when we get him back we must try to keep him, though +that is not easy in Sercq.'" + +"But you know why I went, Carette." + +"Don't go again, Phil. It is very hard on the women to have their men-folk +go. All the fear and the heartache are ours." + +"But it is for you we go--to win what we can for you." + +"Ah, what is it all worth?--Just nothing at all. It's not what you bring in +your hands, but what is in your hearts for us, Phil. Better a cottage on +Sercq with our hearts together like this,"--and I could feel her sweet +heart beating through as she nestled up against me with my right arm round +her neck,--than all the plunder of Herm." + +"Then I will never leave you again, my sweet," and I sealed that pledge in +kisses. "But how we are to live--" + +"Aunt Jeanne will tell you, and I will tell you now. We are to live at +Beaumanoir. She says she is getting too old for the fanning, and must have +help, and so--" + +"So you have arranged it all among you, though for all you knew it was a +dead man you were planning for." + +"It kept our hearts alive to plan it, and, besides, we knew you were not +dead. I think we would have felt it if you had been." + +"A woman's heart is the most wonderful thing in the world and the most +precious. But it may deceive itself. It believes a thing is because it +wishes it to be sometimes, I think, and it won't believe a thing because it +wishes it not to be." + +"Well, that is as it should be, and you are talking like one of your +grandfather's books, Phil," she said lightly, not guessing what was in my +mind. For it had seemed to me that I ought to tell her of her brother's +death, lest it should come upon her in a heap outside. + +"Your father and brothers now," I asked. "Did you look to see them back?" + +"Surely! Until my father and Martin came alone telling us the rest were +gone. It was sore news indeed." + +"Unless they saw them lying dead they may still live. You have thought them +dead. But, dear, Helier was with me in the prison in England. He came there +sorely wounded, and I helped to nurse him back to life. We escaped together +and got home together--" Her hands had clasped in her excitement, and the +white glimmer of her face was lifted hopefully to mine, and I hurried on to +crush her hope before it grew of size to die hard. + +"We got home together that morning they carried you off. He went to Aunt +Jeanne's and I went home. When Krok burst in with the news about you, I +hurried across to Brecqhou. On the shore of the bay was a boat, and in it +Helier lay dead with a bullet through his head." + +"Oh, Phil!" in a voice of anguish, for Helier had been her favourite.... +"And who--?" + +"Those who took you without doubt." + +"Ah, the wretches! I wish--" And I was of the same mind. + +"I could do nothing, for he was dead. So I took his boat and followed you +to Herm. Those who followed me to Brecqhou buried him there. But if he had +not come I could not have got to Herm before they set their watch boats. So +he helped, you see, though he did not know it." + +"My poor Helier!... They had muffled my head in a cloak so that I could +neither hear nor see. I had just gone outside--" + +"Your father and Martin were in a great state about you, but I could not +wait to explain. Anything I could have said would only have added to their +anxiety, and that was not as great as my own, for I had my own fears of +what had happened and they knew nothing." + +"Yes, yes. You could have done no other," and she fell silent for a time, +refitting her thoughts of Helier, no doubt. + +So far, the most striking things in our rock parlour had been the silence +and the darkness, but before long we had noise and to spare. + +First, a low harsh growling from the tunnel by which we had entered, and +that was the returning tide churning among the shingle and boulders in the +rock channels outside. Then it grew into a roar which rose and fell as the +long western waves plunged into the Boutiques, and swelled and foamed along +its echoing sides, and then sank back with a long weltering sob, and rose +again higher than before, and knew no rest. We could hear it all so clearly +that none could doubt the existence of passages between the two caves. + +We sat and listened to it, and ate at times, but could not talk much for +the uproar. But for me it was enough to sit with Carette inside my arm and +close against my heart, and there was something in that long swelling roar +and sighing sob which, after a while, set weights on the eyelids and the +senses and disposed one to sleep. For a time we counted the coming of the +larger wave, and then the countings grew confused and we fell asleep. + +As a matter of fact we lost all count of time in that dark place. When we +woke we ate again by lantern light, and though either one of us alone must +have fallen into melancholy as black as the place, being together, and +having that within us which made for glad hearts, we were very well +content, though still hoping soon to be out again in the free air and +sunshine. + +My arm gave me little pain. Aunt Jeanne's simples had taken the fire out of +the wound, and kept the muscles of an even temper. And whenever the +bandages got dry and stiff Carette soaked them in fresh water and tied me +up again, and seemed to like the doing of it. + +Mindful of Uncle George's saying that the water-cave held light at times, +we visited it again, and yet again, until coming down the sloping path one +time, we saw the narrow roof above us and the rough walls on either side +tinged with a faint soft light, and hastening down like children into a +forbidden room, we found ourselves in a curious place. + +The tide was very far out, and the black cave, in which we had hitherto +seen only sulky waves tumbling unhappily, had become a wonder equal to +those Krok used to open to us in the Gouliots. + +We could now go quite a long way down the shelving side of the rock, and +the water that lay below was no longer black but a beautiful living green, +from the light which stole up through it by means of an archway at the +farther end. The arch was under water, but the light streamed through it, +soft and mellow and glowing, so that the whole place seemed to throb with +gentle life. Outside I judged it was early morning, with the sun shining +full on the sea above the archway. + +And here we found what Krok had shown us in the Gouliots as their chiefest +beauties,--the roof and walls were studded with anemones of every size and +colour, green and crimson, and brown and pink, and lavender and white and +orange; so completely was the rock clothed with them that it was not rock +we saw, but masses and sheets and banks of the lovely clinging things, all +closed up within themselves till the water should return, and shining like +polished gems in the ghostly green light. + +The boulders that strewed the sloping sides of the cave-floor were covered +with them also, and in the glowing green water they were all in full bloom +and waving their arms merrily to and fro in search of food. + +There, too, a leprous thing with treacherous, gliding arms crawled after +prey, and at sight of it Carette gripped my arm and murmured "Pieuvre," as +though she feared it might hear her. She had always a very great horror of +those creatures, though in speaking of them when they were not present she +had at times assumed a boldness which she did not really feel. This, +however, was a very small monster, and indeed they do not grow to any very +great size with us. + +This softly glowing place was very pleasant to us after the darkness and +lantern light of the other cave. We sat for a long time, till the glow +faded somewhat and the water began whuffling against the rock walls, and +climbed them slowly till at last all the cave was dark again, and we groped +back along the cleft to our sleeping-place with the sounds of great waters +in our ears from the Boutiques. + +After that we sought the sea-cave each time we woke, and whenever the light +was in it we sat there, and ate, and talked of all we had done, and +thought, and feared, and hoped, during those long months when we were +apart. And once and again Carette fell on earlier times still, and we were +boy and girl together under the Autelets and Tintageu, or swimming in Havre +Gosselin, and trembling through the Gouliot caves behind Krok's tapping +stick. And we talked of Aunt Jeanne's party, and our Riding Day, and Black +Boy, and Gray Robin. And she told me much of the Miss Maugers, and their +school, and her school-fellows. And at times she fell silent, and I knew +she had sudden thought of her brother Helier. But, you see, she had so +long thought of him as dead, that the fact that he had died later than she +had supposed had not the power to cloud her greatly. And perhaps the fact +that we were together, and going to part no more, was not without its +effect on her spirits. + +And I told her more fully than I had done of all that had happened to me on +Herm, and on the French ship in the West Indies, and at Amperdoo, and of +our escape into France in the preventive officers' boat, and of that last +desperate pull across from Surtainville. + +"But, mon Gyu, Phil, what a strange man!" she said of Torode. "Why should +he let you live one time, and try his hardest to kill you another?" + +"I do not know. I have puzzled over it to no purpose. Now I have given it +up." + +"He is perhaps mad," she suggested. + +"He did not seem so, except in not making an end of me when he had the +chance, and that truly was madness on his part." + +The time was never long with us, for we were strangely set apart from time +and its passage. We ate and slept, and talked and walked, just whenever the +inclination came, and measurements of time we had none. But Aunt Jeanne's +pie was finished and we were down to the ham bone, and what little bread +and gache we had left was growing hard, and by that Carette said we had +been there at least three days, and we looked for George Hamon's coming at +any moment, except when the tunnel was growling and the Boutiques roaring +and sobbing. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +HOW LOVE FOUGHT DEATH IN THE DARK + + +I woke from a very sound sleep with a start, and lay with a creeping of the +back and half asleep still, wondering what I had heard. + +It was dark, with a blackness of darkness to be felt, and all was very +still, which meant that the tide was out, so it was probably early morning. +But it seemed to me that a sound unusual to the place lingered in my ear, +and I lay with straining senses. + +It was not such a sound, it seemed to me, as Carette might have made in her +sleep or in wakening, but something altogether foreign and discordant. + +Whether, in my sudden wakening, I had made some sound, I do not know, but +there had been heavy silence since. And in that thick silence and darkness +I became aware of another presence in the place besides our own,--by what +faculty I know not, but something told me that we were not alone. My very +hair bristled, but I had the sense to lie still, and there was in me a +great agony of fear lest Carette should move and draw upon herself I knew +not what. + +Safety seemed to lie in silence, for I knew that other, whatever it was, +was listening as I was. + +I held my breath, but my heart was thumping so that it seemed impossible +that it should not be heard. From the place where Carette lay I could not +hear a sound, not even the sound of her breathing. + +I think I must have burst soon if that state of matters had continued. +Every drop of blood in my body seemed throbbing in my head just back of my +ears, and all the rest of me was cold and tense with the strain. It was +like waiting on a fearsome black day of thunder for the storm to break. + +Then I heard a movement close to me where I lay on the ground, and, like +the lightning out of the thundercloud, there came the click of steel on +flint and I breathed soundlessly. It was, at all events, human. + +And then my breath caught again. For the tiny lightning flash that came out +of the flint lit, with one brief gleam, the face of the man to whom my +death was as necessary as the breath of life,--whose presence there held +most dreadful menace for us both,--Torode of Herm. + +For one moment life stood still with me. For here, in this close darkness, +were we three within arm's length of one another;--the man I had reason to +fear and hate above any other on earth, and the price of whose life was my +own, a price I would not pay; the woman whose life was dearer to me than my +own, for whom I would gladly pay any price, even the utmost; and myself, by +force of circumstances, the unwilling link that had brought them both +there, and the menace to both their lives, for Torode came for me and +Carette came with me. + +The wheels of life began to turn for me again, and my hand felt stealthily +along the ledge at my side, where George Hamon's pistol had lain ever since +he gave it to me. + +Thoughts surged in my brain like the long western waves in the Boutiques, +all in a wild confusion. This man had spared my life. He had come to take +it. Carette was at stake. + +I knew what I had to do--if I could do it. + +He struck again with the steel, and as he bent to blow the tinder into +flame his eye caught the gleam of it on Aunt Jeanne's polished milk-can. I +know not what he thought it. Possibly his nerves were overstrung with what +he had been going through. With an oath he dropped the tinder, and snatched +out a pistol, and fired in the direction of the can. And as the blaze lit +up the great black bulk of him I stood up quickly and fired also,--and, +before God, I think I was justified, for it was his life or ours. + +The place bellowed with the shots, and the air was thick with smoke and the +sharp smell of powder. No sound came from the floor, and I stood holding +the pistol by the muzzle to strike him down again if he should rise. But he +did not move, and my fears were not for him. + +"Carette!" I cried. "Carette!" + +And my love rose suddenly with a cry and fell sobbing into my arms. + +"Oh, Phil! Phil! What is it? I thought you were dead." + +"Dieu merci, it is he who is dead, I think. We will see," and I managed a +light with my flint and steel and knelt down by the fallen man. + +"Who is it?" asked Carette, breathless still. + +"It is Monsieur Torode." + +"Torode!" she gasped, and bent with me to make sure. "Bon Dieu, how came +he here?" + +"That I don't know. This seems not the hiding-place Uncle George supposed. +I was wakened by his trying to strike a light, and I thought he was a +ghost." + +I hoped he was dead, and so an end to all our fears from him. But I found +him still breathing, though but faintly, and he had not his senses. I +dragged him across to my bed and sought for his wound, and found it at last +in the head. Either the old pistol had cast high, or my sudden up-jump, or +his down-bending, had upset my aim. For the shot had entered the side of +his head at the back, just above the ear, and as I could find no hole +whence it had issued it was probably in his head still. The wound had bled +very little, but beyond his slow, heavy breathing he gave no sign of life. + +On the floor, where he had fallen, I found a seaman's torch, which had been +lighted but was now sodden with water. He had probably dropped it or +dragged it in some pool as he made his way into the cave. + +And, now that the hot anger and the fear of the man were out of me, and he +lay under my hand helpless to do us further harm, I found myself ready to +do what I could for him, since, unfortunately, he was not dead. + +I took Uncle George at his word and broached one of his little kegs, and +found it most excellent French cognac, and mixing some with water in the +lid of the can, I prevailed on Carette to drink some too. We had both been +not a little shaken by these happenings, and the fiery life in the spirit +pulled us together and braced the slackened ropes. I dropped a little into +Torode also, and it ran down his throat, but he showed no sign of +appreciation, and I doubted the fine liquor was wasted. + +Then, as there was no chance of sleep, I lit my pipe and found comfort in +it, and regretted that Carette had no similar consolation of her own, +though I do not take to women smoking as I have seen many of them do +abroad. But there was not even a crust to eat, so we sat and talked in +whispers of the very strange fate, or chance, or the leading of God, that +had brought Torode to us in this remote place into which we had fled to +escape him. + +"But, Phil, however did he get here?" asked Carette. "For Uncle George said +that no living man--?" + +"It was that made me think him a ghost," I said, "until I heard his flint +and steel, which no ghost needs." + +"Did he come in the way we did?" + +"He was standing just there when I woke. I'll go and look," and I crept +away down the narrow way till I found myself against the piled stones which +blocked it, and felt certain that no one had passed that way since George +Hamon went out and closed the door behind him. I heard the in-coming tide +gurgling in the channel outside, and returned to Carette much puzzled. + +"He must have come by way of the Boutiques," I said, "for those stones have +not been moved." + +"And yet Uncle George seemed certain that no one besides himself knew of +this place. 'No living man'--that is what he said." + +"He'll be the more surprised when he comes," I said, and we left it there. + +The sight of Monsieur Torode lying there like a dead man was not a +cheerful one, so we left him and went to our usual place by the water-cave. +And, when we came to the well, Carette said, "Ugh! it looks as if it knew +all about it," and the bulging eye of the spring goggled furiously at us as +we passed. + +We had nothing to eat all that day, but drinks of water, mixed now and then +with a little cognac. For myself it did not matter much, for I had my pipe, +but I felt keenly for Carette. She would not admit that she was hungry, but +during the afternoon she fell asleep leaning against me, and I sat very +still lest I should waken her to her hunger. And her face as it lay against +my arm was like the face of a saint, so sweet and pure and heedless of the +world. + +It was I awoke her after all. + +I was pondering whether we should not make our way out by the tunnel, for +if we stopped there much longer we should starve. And the idea had struck +me all of a heap, that if any ill had befallen George Hamon or my +grandfather we might wait in vain for their coming, when a shout came +pealing down the long and narrow cleft of the cave-- + +"Carre! Phil Carre!" + +I thought it was George Hamon's voice, and the start I gave woke Carette, +and we set off for the rock parlour. + +Before we got there the shouts had ceased, and in their place we heard a +torrent of amazed oaths and knew that Uncle George had lighted on Torode. + +"Dieu-de-dieu--de-dieu-de-dieu-de-dieu!" met us as we drew near. "What in +the name of the holy St. Magloire is this?" cried he, as soon as he saw us. +He had lit his lantern, his head was bound round with a bloody cloth and +he was bending over the bed. + +"We had a visitor," I said jauntily, for the sight of him was very +cheering, even though he seemed all on his beam-ends, and maybe the sight +of a basket he had dropped on the ground went no small way towards +uplifting my spirits. + +"Thousand devils!" he said furiously,--and I had never in my life seen him +so before.--"A visitor!--Here! But it is not possible--" + +I pointed to the wounded man. "It is Monsieur Torode from Herm. We had a +discussion, and he got hurt." + +"Torode!" he said, and knelt hastily, and held his lantern so that the +light fell full on the dark face, and peered into it intently, while we +stood wondering. + +His eyes gleamed like venomous pointed tools. He stared long and hard. Then +he did a strange thing. He put his hand under Torode's black moustache and +folded it back off his mouth, and drew back himself to arm's length, and +stared and stared, and we knew that some strange matter was toward. + +And then of a sudden he sprang back with a cry,--great strange cry. + +"My God! My God! it is he himself!--Rachel!" and he reeled sideways against +the wall. + +"Who?" I asked. And he looked very strangely at me, and said-- + +"Your father,--Paul Martel," and I deemed him crazy. + +"My poor Rachel!" he groaned. "We must hide it. She must not know. She must +never know. My God! Why did I blab it out?" + +"Uncle George!" I said soothingly, and laid my hand on his shoulder, for I +made sure his wound had upset his brain. + +"Give me time, Phil. I am not crazy. Give me time. Mon Dieu! mon Dieu!" and +he sat down heavily with his head in his hands. + +And we, not understanding anything of the matter, but still much startled +at the strangeness of his words and bearing, nevertheless found the size of +our hunger at sight of the basket he had brought, and fell to on its +contents, and ate ravenously. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +HOW WE HEARD STRANGE NEWS + + +"Whatever is it all, Phil?" whispered Carette as we ate. + +"There has evidently been fighting outside, and he has got a knock on the +head, and his wits are astray." But that strange thing he had said ran in +my head, and made such play there that I began to be troubled about it. + +You must remember I had never heard the name of Paul Martel, and of my +father I knew nothing save that he was dead. So that this strange word of +George Hamon's was to me but empty vapouring brought on by that blow on the +head. But against that there was the tremendous fact which had so exercised +my mind, that this man Torode had spared my life at risk of his own, when +every other soul that could have perilled him had been slaughtered in cold +blood. + +If--the awful import of that little word!--if there was--if there could be, +any sense in George Hamon's words, the puzzle of Torode's strange treatment +of me was explained. I saw that clearly enough, but yet the whole matter +held no sense of reality to me. It was all as obscure and shadowy as the +dim cross-lights in which we sat, and ate because we were starving. + +Torode lay like a log, breathing slowly, but with no other sign of life. +George Hamon presently knelt beside him again and gazed long into his face, +and then examined his wound carefully. Then he stood up and signed to us to +follow him, and we went along the cleft to the water-cave, and sat down +there in the dim green light that filtered through the water. + +"Mon gars," he said very gravely, "I have done you a wrong. I ought to have +kept it to myself. It was the suddenness of it that upset me. I told you no +living man besides myself knew of this place, and that was because I +believed this man dead--dead this twenty years. He was partner with me in +the free-trading for a time, until we fell out--" + +"You said just now that he was my father," I broke in, and eyed him closely +to see if his wits were still astray. "What did you mean?" + +"It is true," he said gloomily. "I am sorry. It slipped out." + +"But he is Torode, and you called him Martel, and I am Phil Carre." + +"All that; but, all the same, it is true, mon gars. He is your father, Paul +Martel." + +"I have always been told my father was dead." + +"We believed so. He went away twenty years ago, and never came back. We +believed him dead--we wished him dead. He was better dead than alive." + +"I don't understand," I said doggedly, still all in a maze. "You call him +Martel, and say he is my father, but I am Phil Carre." + +"Yes. We were sick of Martel, and sick of his name. We did not wish you to +be weighted with it.... Now see, mon gars, I was in the wrong to slip it +out, but--well, there it is--I was wrong. But, since it is done, and we +must keep it to ourselves, I will tell you the rest. You are old enough to +know. And Carette--eh bien! it is you yourself, and not your father--" + +"Ma fe, one does not choose one's father," said Carette, and slipped her +hand through my arm, and clung tightly to it through all the telling. + +And George Hamon told us briefly that which I have set forth in the +beginning of my story. We two talked of it many times afterwards, and it +was at such odd times that he told me all the rest. And I think it like +enough that you, who have read it all in the order in which I have written +it, may long since have guessed that thing which had puzzled me so +much--Torode's strange sparing of my life when he murdered all my comrades. +But to me, who had never known anything of my father, and had grown to know +myself only as Phil Carre, the whole matter was amazing, and upsetting +beyond my power to tell. + +"And what are we to do now, Uncle George?" I asked dispiritedly, for the +sudden tumbling into one's life of a father whom all honest men must hate +and loathe darkened all my sky like a thunder-cloud on a summer day. + +"If he dies we will bury him here and in our three hearts, and no other +must know. It would only break your mother's life again as it was broken +once before." + +"And if he lives?" I asked gloomily, and, unseemly though it might be, it +was perhaps hardly strange that I could not bring myself to wish anything +but that he might die. + +"If he lives," said Uncle George, no whit less gloomily--and stopped in +the slough.... "I do not know.... His life is forfeit ... and yet--you +cannot give him up ... nor can I.... But perhaps he will die ..." he said +hopefully. + +"And I shall have killed him." + +"Mon Dieu, yes!--I forgot.... But you did not know, and if you had not he +would certainly have killed you ... and Carette also, without doubt." + +"All the same--" + +"Yes, I know," he nodded. "Well, we must wait and see. I wonder now what +Philip would do,"--meaning my grandfather, in whose wisdom he had implicit +faith, as all had who knew him. "I'm inclined to think he would give him +up, you know. He would never loose him on the world again.... However, he +may die." + +"Where is he--my grandfather? And what has been doing outside, and when can +we get out?" + +"He is away to Peter Port, but he had to go by way of Jersey, and by night, +to avoid their look-out boats. He has got there all right, for there is +fighting on Herm. We heard the sound of the guns, and the Herm men are +getting back there as fast as they can go." + +"What day is this?" + +"To-day is Thursday." + +"Thursday!" echoed Carette. "And we came in here on Tuesday! Is it Thursday +of this week or Thursday of next week, Uncle George?" + +"This week," he said with surprise, for he could not possibly understand +how completely we had lost count of time. "Torode came across himself with +four big boat-loads of rascals, with carronades in their boats, too, and +they have turned the Island upside down in search of you. He thought, you +see, without doubt, that if he could lay hands on you there was no one else +could swear to anything but hearsay. But the Peter Port men will take your +grandfather's word for it, as they would take no one else's. And that word +concerning John Ozanne and his men would set them in a flame if anything +could. He was very loth to go, but he saw it was the surest way of ending +the matter. So he slipped away with Krok in the dark, and they were to swim +out to a boat off Les Laches and make their way by Jersey. Now, if you have +eaten, we will get out to the light." + +"Dieu merci!" said Carette heartfully. + +"And what about him?" I asked, nodding towards the wounded man. + +"He must wait. Can he eat?" + +"I have dropped brandy down his throat two or three times, and he seems to +swallow it." + +"We will give him some more, and decide afterwards. Mon Dieu! But I wish +Philip was here." + +"Would you tell him?" + +"Surely! But not your mother, Phil," he said anxiously, and I knew again +how truly he loved her. "She must not know. She must never know." + +"What about Aunt Jeanne?" I asked. + +He shook his head. "The fewer that know the better." So we dropped some +more brandy and water into the wounded man's mouth, and gathered our few +belongings, and crept down the tunnel after Uncle George. + +Oh, the blessedness of the sweet salt sunlit air, as we stood in the +water-worn chasm and blinked at the light, while Uncle George carefully +closed his door. We took long deep draughts of it, and felt uplifted and +almost light-headed. + +"It is resurrection," said Carette; and as we climbed out of the cleft and +took our way quickly among the great gorse cushions along Eperquerie, the +dull sound of firing on Herm came to us on the west wind. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +HOW A STORM CAME OUT OF THE WEST + + +"Thank God, you have escaped them!" was my mother's grateful greeting as we +came into Belfontaine. "But you have suffered! You are starving?" + +"Not a bit, little mother," chirped Carette, as they kissed very warmly. +"We have been quite happy, though, ma fe, it was as dark and still as the +tomb, and there is a spring in there that is enough to frighten one into a +fit. And George Hamon here is trying to make us believe this is only +Thursday, and it is certain we have been in there at least a week." + +"It is only Thursday," smiled my mother. "But the time must have seemed +long in the dark and all by yourselves." + +"Oh, we didn't mind being by ourselves, not a bit, and we never quarrelled +once. But, ma fe, yes, it was dark, and so still. I could hear Phil's heart +beat when I couldn't see him." + +"You both look as if you had been seeing ghosts. Is it that your arm is +paining you, Phil, mon gars?" + +"Hardly at all. Carette saw to it." + +"Bien! You are bleached for lack of sunshine, then." + +"Mon Dieu, yes," said Carette. "I felt myself getting whiter every minute, +and we were almost starving when Uncle George came. We had been days +without food, you know, although you all say it is only Thursday;" and my +mother smiled and began to spread the table, but we showed her it was only +Carette's nonsense. + +But if she was relieved on our account, she was still very anxious about +her father. + +"They are fighting over there, George," she said, looking anxiously out +over the water to where Herm lay peacefully in the afternoon sunshine, and +as we stood listening, the dull sound of guns came to us again. "That means +that he got there all right?" + +"Trust Philip to get there all right. And to come back all right too. I +hope they'll make an end of them," said Uncle George stoutly. + +"You can never tell what will happen when fighting's afoot," she sighed. + +"He'll take care of himself. Don't you worry, Rachel." + +"Shall I put a fresh bandage on your head? It is hurting you, I can see." + +"No, no," he said hastily, and then, "Well, yes truly, it is hard and +dry--if you will;" and she steeped his bandage in cold water and carefully +bound up his head again. And all the time we were in mortal fear lest some +chance word from one or the other should disclose that which was hidden in +the cave, that which would blight her life again if it got out. + +"Did they trouble you, mother?" I asked. + +"The young Torode came with a party of his men and searched every corner of +the place. And in reply to his questionings all I said was that you were +gone. Then George and your grandfather came up and would have turned them +out, and the young man and George fell out--" + +"He drew a pistol on me and gave me this, and I knocked him down," said +Uncle George. "And then the men dragged him away." + +"It's well it was no worse," said my mother. "I do not like that young +man;" and little she knew how small cause indeed she had to like him. + +We went on along the cliffs to Beaumanoir to show ourselves to Aunt Jeanne, +and ever and again the sound of the guns came to us on the wind, and more +than once Uncle George stopped with his face turned that way, as though his +thoughts were more there than here. + +"Ah v'la! So here you are, my little ones. I hope you had a pleasant time +in Jersey," cried Aunt Jeanne, as soon as she caught sight of us. "I have +been risking my salvation by swearing through thick and thin that you went +to Jersey on Tuesday. But that young Torode only scoffed at me. Bad manners +to say the least of it, after eating one's gache and drinking one's cider, +and nearly dancing holes in one's floor. I believe you're hungry, you two;" +and she made for her cupboards. + +"No truly, auntie," said Carette, "we have done nothing but eat and sleep +since ever Uncle George shut us up in his hole. But, mon Dieu, you cannot +imagine how dark and still it is in there. Each time we slept was a night, +and each time we woke was a day, and we were there about three weeks." + +"Ma fe, you look it," nodded Aunt Jeanne. + +"And the father and Martin?" asked Carette. + +"So so. Give them time. They have kept asking for you." + +Uncle George was standing looking over at Herm again, and something of +what was in his face was in Aunt Jeanne's, as she said to him-- + +"Ma fe, yes! But they are getting it hot over there. If you take my advice, +George Hamon, you will muster all the men you can and have them ready." + +"How then?" he said quickly. "You think--?" + +"I think what you are thinking, my friend. If they are beaten over +there--and they will be, unless the Guernsey men are bigger fools than they +used to be--we may see some of them across here again and in a still worse +temper. If they make a bolt at the last, they'll make for France, and ten +to one they'll take a bite at us in passing. They came to stop trouble +before, now they'll come to make it." + +"It's what was in my mind. I'll see Amice Le Couteur at once." + +"B'en! and give the word to all you see, George," she called after him. +"And bid the women and children to the Gouliots if they hear they are +coming--the upper chamber above the black rock. It won't be just +hide-and-seek this time." + +"Good idea!" Uncle George called back over his shoulder. + +"Common sense," said Aunt Jeanne. "I'd undertake to hold the Gouliots +against the lot of them if the tide was at flood." + +"And you really think they may come across here again, Aunt Jeanne?" I +asked. + +"Ma fe, yes, I do. They were angry men before, but if the Guernsey men have +smoked them out they'll be simply devils, and it's just as well to look +ahead. How is that arm of yours?" + +"The other one's all right. I can do my share." + +"You'll be wanted if they come. I doubt if we can muster more than thirty +men at most, and there may be more than that left of them, and madmen at +that." + +"We won't let them land." + +"You can't close every door with thirty men, mon gars." + +"One at the Coupee, if they make for Gorey. Three at Dos d'Ane. Three at +Havre Gosselin. Half a dozen at the Creux--" + +"Ta-ta! What about Eperquerie and Dixcart, my boy? Those are the open +doors, and they know it just as well as you do. They're not going to climb +one by one when they can come all in a heap. Mon Dieu, non!" she said, +shaking her head ominously. "If they come there'll be rough work, and the +readier we are for it the better." + +Carette's face had shadowed at this gloomy talk, when she had been hoping +that our troubles were over. And I could find little to reassure her, for +it seemed to me more than likely that Aunt Jeanne's predictions would be +fulfilled. + +"I'll go along to Moie de Mouton and keep a look-out," I said. + +"I also," said Carette, and we went off over the knoll together. + +We sat in the short sweet grass of the headland, just as we had sat many a +time when we were boy and girl, when life was all as bright as the inside +of an ormer shell and we were friends with all the world. + +The sun was dropping behind Herm into a dark bank of clouds which lay all +along the western sky. Behind the clouds the heavens seemed ablaze with a +mighty conflagration. Long level shafts of glowing gold streamed through +the rifts, like a hot fire through the bars of a grate, and our faces and +all the bold Sercq cliffs were dyed red. The sun himself looked like a +fiery clot of blood. Everything was very still, as with a sense of +expectation. + +Tintageu, and the Platte, and Guillaumesse, and the gleaming Autelets, and +La Grune, and on the other side the great black Gouliot rocks, and Moie +Batarde, and the long dark side of Brecqhou all seemed straining with wide +anxious eyes to learn what was coming. There was a dull growl of surf from +below, and low harsh croakings and mewings from the gulls down in Port a la +Jument. And we seemed to be all waiting for what should come out of Herm +along the red path of the sun. + +Carette shivered inside my arm. + +"Cold, dearest?" I asked. + +"My heart is heavy. Oh, but I wish it was the day after to-morrow, Phil." + +"It will come. But we look like having a storm first. Those black clouds--" + +"God's storms I do not mind. It is that black Herm--Hark!" and we heard the +sound of guns again along the wind. "Do you think they will come here, +Phil?" + +"I think it quite likely, dear. But we are forearmed and we fight for our +homes. If they come, they are a beaten crew bent only on mischief. We shall +beat them again." + +"You won't go and get yourself killed, Phil dear, just when you've come +back to me?" + +"That I won't. And when they've come and gone--" and I comforted her with +warmer things than words. And Tintageu, and the black Gouliot rocks, and +all the straining headlands seemed to look at us for a moment, and then +turned and stared out anxiously at Herm. + +And then I jumped up quickly, and stood for a moment staring as they +stared. + +"Tiens!--Yes--they are coming! Allons, ma cherie!" and we set off at a run +for Beaumanoir to give the alarm. For, out of the shadow of Herm, half a +dozen black objects had crept and were making straight for Sercq, and I +understood that the look-out boats, and the boats of those who had hurried +across from Sercq, had been left on the shell beach because the channel was +probably blocked, and that the broken remnants of Herm had fled across the +Island and were coming down to take a bite at us, as Aunt Jeanne had +predicted. + +A dozen of the neighbours, who had gathered about the gate of Beaumanoir, +came running to meet us--the two Guilles from Dos d'Ane and Clos Bourel, +Thomas De Carteret from La Vauroque, Thomas Godfray of Dixcart, and Henri +Le Masurier from Grand Dixcart, Elie Guille from Le Carrefour, Jean Vaudin, +and Pierre Le Feuvre, and Philippe Guille from La Genetiere. George Hamon +and Amice Le Couteur, the Senechal, from La Tour, were just coming down the +lane, and every man carried such arms as he could muster. + +"They're coming!" I shouted, and Amice Le Couteur, panting with his haste +from the north, took command in virtue of his office, since Peter Le +Pelley, the Seigneur, was away in London. + +"How many, Phil Carre?" he asked. + +"I counted six boats, but they were too far off to see how many in them." + +"So! Run on, you, Jean Vaudin and Abraham Guille, and tell us how they are +heading. They won't try to land hereabouts. They may try Gorey, but not +likely. They have tasted the Coupee already. All the same, you, Pierre, run +and warn the folks on Little Sercq. They had better come over here. Then +stop on the Coupee and let no man across. I have bidden the women and +children to the Gouliots here. Thomas Hamon of Le Fort is collecting them. +The rascals are most likely to try the Eperquerie or Dixcart. You, Elie +Guille, see them all safely into the upper cave above the black rock, and +sit in the mouth and let no one in. But I don't think you will be troubled. +We shall beat them off. Now, my friends, to the Head and watch them, and +let every man do his duty by Sercq this night!" And they moved off in a +body to Moie de Mouton, while Carette and I went on into Beaumanoir, she to +join Aunt Jeanne, I to find a weapon, which I was doubtful of finding at +home. + +"Must I go underground again, Phil?" asked Carette. "I would far sooner +stop here and take the risk, if there is any." + +"You must go with the rest, my dear. We may have our hands full. It will be +a vast relief to know you are all safe out of sight. If any of these +rascals should get past us they will spare no one. Their only idea in +coming is to pay off scores because they are beaten. They will be very +angry men." + +Aunt Jeanne, as might have been expected, was packing baskets of food with +immense energy. + +"Ah, b'en!" she cried at sight of us. "Carry those baskets down to Saut de +Juan, you two. I'll be with you in a minute." + +"Give me something to fight with, Aunt Jeanne." + +"There's my old man's cutlass, and there are his pistols, but, mon Dieu, +they haven't been loaded this twenty years, and moreover there's no +powder." + +I strapped the cutlass round me and stuck the pistols in the belt. + +"What about M. Le Marchant and Martin?" I asked. + +"They are in the cellar. No one will find them. The Gouliots was too far +for them." + +Women and children were running past towards Saut de Juan, the women +anxious for their men, the children racing and skipping as if it were a +picnic. I handed over my basket to willing hands, at the head of the path +that leads down by the side of the gulf to the Gouliots, and gave Carette a +hearty kiss before them all, which set some of the women smiling in spite +of their forebodings. + +"Ah-ha!" chuckled one old crone. "Bind the faggot if it's only for the +fire." + +"Faggot without band is not complete," I laughed. "See you take care of my +faggot, Mere Tanquerel, or I'll want to know why;" and I ran on along the +heights to fetch my mother from Belfontaine. + +As I came down the slope towards Port a la Jument I met her and George +Hamon hurrying along, and her face was full of anxious surprise still, +while Uncle George's had in it a rare tenderness for her which I well +understood. + +"I was just coming for you, mother," I said. + +"It is good to be so well looked after," she smiled through her fears. "If +only we knew that your grandfather was all right--" + +"Philip will be here before long," said Uncle George confidently. "When he +sees which way they've taken he will guess what they're up to and will +bring on some of the Guernsey men. If we can't keep them at arm's length +till then we're a set of lubbers." + +"You'll be careful of yourselves," she said wistfully, as we stood at the +top of the slope. "I--we can't spare either of you yet." + +We promised every possible caution, and she went on to join the other +women, while Uncle George and I ran across to the men standing in a dark +clump on the Moie de Mouton. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +HOW WE HELD OUR HOMES + + +There was no need to ask how the boats were heading. All eyes were fixed +anxiously on them as they came straight for the north of the Island, and +just as we came up Amice Le Couteur gave the word to move on to Eperquerie. + +Stragglers from the more distant houses were coming up every few minutes. +He left one to send them all on after us, and we straggled off past +Belfontaine and Tintageu and the Autelets and Saignie Bay, and so into the +road to the Common, and took our stand on the high ground above the +Boutiques, and as we went Thomas Godfray loaded my pistols for me from his +own flask. + +The colours had long since faded out of the sky, and the bank of clouds in +which the sun had set was creeping heavily up the west. Both sky and sea +were gray and shadowy. The sea was flawed with dark blurrs of sudden +squalls, and the waves broke harsh and white on La Grune and Bec du Nez. + +The six boats came on with steady venom. They kept well out round Bec du +Nez, and we ran across the broken ground to meet them on the other side of +the Island, and lay down there by the Senechal's orders. + +There was always the chance that they were making straight for the French +coast. It would have been well for some of them if they had. That hope died +as they turned inside the Pecheresse rock and came sweeping down towards +Eperquerie landing. + +We could see them better now, and estimate our chances. Three of the boats +were of large size, holding ten to twelve men each, and carrying a small +carronade in the bows. The others held six to eight, and they were all as +evil and scowling a set as ever I set eyes on. + +"They will try here," said Amice Le Couteur. "I will warn them once not to +land, then do you be ready to fire. Take advantage of the rocks, and let no +man expose himself unnecessarily." + +They came thrashing along, with no show of order but much of the spirit +that was in them. There is no dog so ready to snap at anything that offers +as the one that is running from a fight. Their lust for mischief came up to +us in hoarse growls and curses, and tightened our grip on our weapons. + +The first boat ground on the shingle, and the next ran in alongside before +the oars were unshipped, and the wind was thick with curses on their +clumsiness. The landing between the rock is a narrow one, and no more than +two could come in at once. The others had to wait outside. + +The rascals were beginning to tumble ashore, when Amice Le Couteur stood up +and cried, "Stop there! If you land it is at your peril. We will not have +it." + +Those who were landing turned their black faces upwards in surprise, for +they had not seen us. But from one of the waiting boats behind, half a +dozen shots rang out in a sudden blaze of light, and the Senechal fell +back among us, and our men began a hot fire at the boats from behind their +rocks. + +I ran to M. Le Couteur, as I had no weapons but a cutlass and pistols, and +these were only for close work. He was bleeding in the head and chest, but +said he thought the wounds were not serious. + +"See that some of them don't slip away to the Creux or Dixcart, while we're +busy with the others here, Carre," he said, as I tied up his head with his +own kerchief, and then dragged him down into a little hollow where no shots +could reach him. + +There was much cursing and shouting down below, and a satisfactory amount +of groaning also, and our men fired and loaded without stopping and said no +word. The landing-place and the rocks above were thick with smoke, which +came swirling up in great coils, so that I could see nothing, though I +could hear enough and to spare. + +I scrambled down the side of Pignon, bending among the rocks lest they +should see me, and so came out on to the larger rocks, inside which lies +the landing-place. I was thus in the rear of the Herm men, with the open +sea behind me, and a glance told me that the Senechal's fears were +justified. The two boats that had pushed in were alone there, and I heard +the sound of oars working lustily down the coast. + +I turned and tumbled back the way I had come, scrambling and falling, +cutting and bruising myself on the ragged rocks, and so up to our men. + +"There are only two boats there," I shouted. "The rest are off for the +Creux." + +"Good lad!" cried George Hamon. "Off after them, Phil, and keep them in +sight. Fire your pistol if they stop. We'll divide and follow, and we'll +not be far behind;" and I ran on past Les Fontaines and Creux Belet. + +I heard them pass Banquette as I stood in the gorse of the hillside, and +followed them round to Greve de la Ville, where there was little chance of +their landing, as the shore is not easy, and the climb not tempting. + +From there I could have cut across into the Creux Road, and been at the +harbour long before them, but I thought best to follow the cliffs and keep +them in touch, lest they should try any tricks. + +They had to keep well out round Moie a Navet, but they came in again under +Grande Moie, and so we came down the coast, they below and I above, till I +ran across country, back of the Cagnons, and dropped into Creux Road just +above the tunnel, and there found George Hamon with a good company come +straight by the road from La Tour, and still panting hard from their rush. + +"Ah, here you are, mon gars!" said Uncle George. "And where are they?" + +"Coming along. I saw them past Les Cagnons. How are they at Eperquerie?" + +"We left them at it, but they're scotched there. Will they try here, or go +on?" + +"Dixcart, if they know their business. It'll be all hands to the pumps +there, Uncle George. Four of us could hold the tunnel here against fifty." + +"Yes, we'll get on by Les Laches and wait there and make sure. Do you stop +here, Phil, with Godfray and De Carteret and Jean Drillot, until you are +sure they have gone on, then come on and join us. Best barricade the tunnel +with some of that timber." + +He and the rest went on up the hillside to Les Laches, and we four set to +work hauling and piling, till the seaward mouth of the tunnel leading from +the road to the shore was barred against any possible entrance. And +listening anxiously through our barrier, with the stillness of the tunnel +behind us, we presently heard the sound of the toiling oars pass slowly on +towards Dixcart. We waited till they died away, and then climbed the hill +to Les Laches and sped across by the old ruins, with a wide berth to the +great Creux at the head of Derrible Bay, and down over the Hog's Back into +Dixcart Valley, where we knew, and they knew, their best chances lay. For +in Dixcart the shore shelves gently, and the valley runs wide to the beach; +fifty boats could land there in a line, and their crews could come up the +sloping way by the streamlet ten abreast. It would be no easy place to +defend if the enemy pushed his attack with persistence, and every man we +had would be needed. + +We tumbled into our men as they settled their plan of defence. We were +twenty-one all told. Ten were to go along the Hog's Back cliff towards +Pointe Chateau, where they would overlook the point of landing, if the +enemy made straight for the valley. They were to begin firing the moment +the boats touched shore, and then to draw back into the valley. The other +ten were to lie in the bracken on the slope of the opposite hill, just +where it gives on to the bay, and to pour in their fire before the enemy +had recovered from his first dose. Then, if he came on, the two bands would +meet him with volleys from both hillsides as he came into the valley, and +again retiring along the hillsides, would continue to harass him till, at +the head of the valley, if he got that far, the united bands would meet him +hand to hand. We judged he might be about thirty strong, but hoped our +first volleys might bring us about even. + +Uncle George asked me to go with himself and the nine along Hog's Back. As +I had no gun, and only one arm in full working order, I might be useful in +carrying any change of orders to the other party. + +There was no sound of their coming yet, but the pull round Derrible Pointe +would account for that. So we stole silently along to our appointed places. + +The night was very dark and squally, but on this side of the Island we were +sheltered. On the other side the white waves would be roaring and gnashing +up the black cliffs, but here in Dixcart they fell sadly on the shingle and +drew back into the depths with long-drawn growls and hisses. + +"V'la!" said Uncle George, as we lay on the cliff; and we heard the oars +below in the bay, and all stood up ready. + +They came in as close under the cliff as they dared, so close that we heard +their voices clearly between the falling of the waves. And then, dimly, we +saw the black bulks of their boats in the streaming surf as it ran back to +the sea, and I started, for I could only see three, but could not be +certain. + +"Now!" said Uncle George, and our volley caught them full. + +They roared curses, and began snapping back at us as each man found his +musket. But a step back took us under cover, for a black cliff two hundred +and fifty feet high, and hidden in the night, offered no mark for them, and +from the face of the opposite hill our other volley crashed into the marks +their own fire offered. + +"Again!" said Uncle George, as soon as our men were ready, and our ten guns +spoke once more. + +They were sadly discomfited, and furiously angry down below there. But +those who were not wounded had tumbled ashore, and they replied to our +second volley with a more concerted fire. And in the flash Of their guns I, +craning over the scarp of the hill, saw clearly but three boats. + +"Only three boats," I whispered in George Hamon's ear. "I'm off to look for +the other," and before he could stop me I was gone. For he needed all his +men, and I believed I could manage alone. + +Back across Hog's Back, past the old mill, through the fields by La Forge, +and along the hill-path by Les Laches, and down the hill, slipping and +stumbling, and into the Creux tunnel with only one fear--that I might +arrive too late. + +And I was only just in time. As I ran in I heard them on the seaward side +hauling at the timbers of our barricade; and with my chest going like a +pump, and my hands all shaking with excitement, I drew Peter Le Marchant's +cutlass and sent it lancing through the openings wherever a body seemed to +be. + +Sudden oaths broke out, and the work stopped. I pulled out one of my +pistols, shoved the muzzle through a hole and pulled the trigger, and still +had wit enough to wonder what would happen if it burst, as Aunt Jeanne had +hinted. + +It did not burst, however, and the discharge provoked a further outburst of +curses. I drew the other, and fired it likewise, and stood ready with my +cutlass for the next assault. But they had hoped to break through +unperceived, and possibly the violence of my attack misled them into a +belief in numbers. They drew off along the shingle, and I leaned back +against the side of the tunnel and panted for my life. + +I heard a discussion going on, and presently they were at work at +something, but I could not make out what. + +I took advantage of the lull to strengthen my defences with some boats' +masts and any odd timbers I could find and lift, till I thought it +impossible that any man should get through. + +But I was wrong. There came a sudden roar outside, and a shot of size came +crashing through my barricade, sending pieces of it flying wildly. They had +a carronade, and had had to shift the boat to the end of the shingle to get +the mouth of the tunnel into the line of fire. + +Then I began to fear. Men I could fight, but carronades were beyond me. + +Still, even when they had knocked my barrier to pieces, the men must come +at last. The great iron shot could not reach me round the corners, though +flying timbers and splinters might. They would fire again and again till +the way was clear, and then they would come in a heap, and I must do my +best with my cutlass. And it was not unlikely that the sound of the heavy +guns might catch the ears of others and bring me help. So I drew back out +of the tunnel on the land side and waited. + +A stumble over a piece of timber set me to the hurried building of a fresh +barricade at this end, outside the mouth of the tunnel. If it only stopped +them for minutes, the minutes might be enough. It would in any case hamper +them, and I did not believe they could train their guns upon it. So I +groped in the dark, and dragged, and piled, and found myself using the +wounded arm without feeling any pain, but also without much strength, till +I had a not-to-be-despised fence which would at least give me chance of a +few blows before it could be rushed. + +Five times they fired, and the inside of the tunnel crashed with the +fragments of the outer barricade, and then it was evidently all down. + +There was a brief lull while they gathered for the rush. Then they came all +together full into my later defence. + +I stabbed through it and hacked at one who tried to climb. But they were +many and I was one. The barrier began to sag and give under their pressure. +I stabbed wildly through and through, and got groans for payment. And then +of a sudden I was aware of another fighting by my side. He had come +unperceived by me, and he spoke no word, but thrust and smote wherever +opportunity offered, and his coming gave me new strength. + +And then, with a shout, others came pouring down the Creux Road, and I knew +that all was well, and I fell spent in the roadway. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +HOW WE RAN AGAINST THE LAW FOR THE SAKE OF A WOMAN + + +When I recovered sufficiently to take notice of things, I was sitting in +the tunnel with my back against the wall, a big fire of broken wood was +burning brightly, and men were carrying in others from the harbour. The +carried men were bound, and the others were strangers to me. + +A flask was put to my mouth, and I took a pull at it, and turned to find +Krok smiling his content at my recovery. + +"Was it you, Krok?" and I shook both his hands heartily, while he held the +flask between his knees. + +"And my grandfather?" I asked. "Is he hurt?" And Krok nodded and then shook +his head. + +"Hurt, but not badly?" and he nodded quickly. + +"And these are Guernsey men?" + +He nodded again, and one of them came up and asked, "Feeling better? You +had a tough job here all alone. We came ashore on the other side, and were +hurrying towards the firing lower down there when we heard the gun begin, +and your friend here brought us down this road on the jump. He doesn't +speak much, but he's got mighty good ears and sense." + +"You were just in time. I was about done." + +"Just in time is all right, but in fact it wouldn't have done to be much +later." + +"Can you tell me anything of my grandfather, Philip Carre?" + +"Oh, you're young Phil Carre, who started all this business, are you?" + +"I'm Phil Carre. What about my grandfather?" + +"We had some warm work over there, and he got a shot through the leg. Not +serious, I think. But we got the schooner and a lot of the rascals, and +when we found the rest had come this way we came after them. But Torode +himself got away. Maybe we'll find him here somewhere." + +I had not given the man in George Hamon's cave a thought for hours past, +but this sudden reminder brought my mind round to him, and me to my feet, +with a jerk. + +He was my father--I could not doubt it, though belief was horrible. He was +a scoundrel beyond most. He lay there stricken by my hand. His life was +sought by the law, and would certainly be forfeited if he was found. I must +find George Hamon at once. + +"Are they fighting still at Dixcart?" I asked the Guernsey man. + +"There was firing over yonder as we came along," he said, pointing to the +south-west. "But it is finished now." + +"That was their chief attack. The Senechal was shot at Eperquerie. George +Hamon is in charge at Dixcart. We had better see how they have fared." + +"Allons! I know Hamon." + +He left four of his comrades to guard the prisoners, and the rest of us set +off by the way I had already passed twice that night, and came down over +Hog's Back into Dixcart. + +They heard us coming, and George Hamon's quick order to his men to stand by +told me all was well, and a shout from myself set his mind at rest. + +"Mon Dieu! Phil, my boy, but I'm glad to see you safe and sound. You've +been on my mind since ever you left. Who are--Why--Krok--and Henri Tourtel? +Nom d'Gyu! Where do you come from?" + +"From Herm last. We came across after those black devils. Old Carre said +they would take a bite at you as they passed. We landed on the other side, +and scrambled up a deuce of a cliff, and got to the tunnel there just in +the nick of time. Young Carre here was fighting a dozen of them and a +carronade single-handed." + +"Bon Gyu, Phil! We're well through with it. I oughtn't to have let you go +alone, but you were gone before I knew, and we had all we could manage +here. There are ten of them dead, and the rest are in our hands--about +twenty, I think--and every man of them damaged. They fought like devils." + +"Many of ours hurt?" I asked. + +"We've not come out whole, but there's no one killed. Where's your +grandfather?" + +"Wounded on Herm, but not seriously, M. Tourtel says." + +"Seen anything of Torode himself, Hamon?" asked Tourtel. + +"Haven't you got him? Better look if he's among our lot. You would know him +better than we would. They're all down yonder. I must go and see after +Amice Le Couteur. We left him bleeding at Eperquerie. Get anything you want +from our people, Tourtel. Krok, you come along with us;" and we set off +over the hill past La Jaspellerie to get to La Vauroque. + +"Phil, my son," he said in my ear, "your work is cut out for you this +night. Are you good for it?" + +"Yes." + +"For her sake, and your grandfather's and your own, we must get him away at +once--now. Tomorrow will be too late. We don't want him swinging in chains +at Peter Port and all the old story raked up. I wish to God you had killed +him!--Mon Dieu! I forgot--you're you and he's your father. All the same, it +would have saved much trouble." + +"What's to be done with him?" + +"He may be dead--Mon Dieu! I keep forgetting. If he's alive you will take +him away in my boat--" + +"Where to?" + +"You want him to live?" + +"I don't want to have killed him." + +"Then you must get him to a doctor. You can't go to Guernsey, so that means +Jersey--And afterwards--I don't know--you'll have to see what is best. Wait +a moment,"--as we came to his house at La Vauroque. "You'll need money, and +take what you can find to eat. I've got a bottle or two of wine somewhere. +Before daylight you must be out of sight of Sercq." + +"Where will you say I've gone?" + +"Bidemme! I don't know ... You can trust old Krok?" + +"Absolutely." + +"Then, as soon as you have had the other patched up and settled somewhere +in safety, you'd better leave him in Krok's care and get back here. And the +sooner the better. The people in Guernsey will want your story from your +own lips in this matter." + +"How soon can we get into the cave?" + +"Nom-de-Dieu, yes!... Voyons donc!--About two o'clock with a wet shirt. +This wind will pile the water up, and the Race will be against us in the +Gouliot. The sooner we're off the better." + +He handed me a sum of money, packed into a basket all the eatables he could +find and two bottles of wine, and lit a lantern, and we set off through the +gusty night, past the deserted houses, past Beaumanoir all dark and dead, +and so down into Havre Gosselin, where the waves were roaring white. + +We drew in Uncle George's small boat by its ropes and got aboard his larger +one, and tied the smaller to drag astern. + +The west wind was still blowing strong, but it had slackened somewhat with +the turn of the tide. But when we tried to breast the Gouliot passage with +that heavy boat, we found it impossible. Three times we nosed inch by inch +into the swirling black waters, which leaped and spat and bit at us with +fierce white fangs, and three times we were swept away down past Pierre au +Norman, drooping over our oars like broken men. + +"Guyabble! This is no good!" gasped Uncle George, as we came whirling back +the third time. "We must go round." So we drew in the oars, and hoisted a +bit of our lug, and ran straight out past Les Dents, whose black heads were +sheets of flying foam, to make a long tack round Brecqhou. Then, with the +wind full on our port quarter, we made a quick, straight run for the +Boutiques, and found ourselves not very far astray. Dropping the sail, and +leaving Krok in charge, Uncle George and I pulled in the small boat to the +channel into which his cave opened. It was still awash, but we could not +wait. We dragged the boat up onto the shingle just showing at the head of +the chasm, then wading out up to our shoulders to the leaning slab, we +pulled down the rock screen and crawled into the tunnel. + +The wounded man lay just as we had left him, breathing slowly and +regularly, but showing no other sign of life. We dropped a little cognac +into him, and took him by the shoulders and feet and carried him into the +tunnel. How we got him through I cannot tell--inch by inch, shoving and +hauling, till the sweat poured down us in that narrow place. + +But we got him to the opening at last, and hauled the boat down and hoisted +him in, soaked to the skin each one of us. Uncle George carefully closed +his door, and we pulled out to Krok, waiting in the lugger. + +"Mon Dieu! I have had enough of him," said Uncle George, worn out, I +suppose, with all the night's doings. "If he dies, I shall not care much. +He is better dead." + +We laid him in the bottom of the boat and covered him with the mizzen sail. + +"Keep well out round Bec du Nez," said Uncle George, "and run so for half +an hour. Then run due east for two hours, and then make for Jersey. God +keep you, my boy! It's a bitter duty, but you're doing the right thing." + +He wrung my hand, and pushed off and disappeared in the darkness, and we +ran up the lug and went thrashing out into Great Russel. + +We turned and ran before the west wind straight for the French coast, till +the sun rose and the cliffs of Sercq, about twelve miles away, gleamed as +though they had but just been made--or had newly risen out of the sea. Then +we turned to the south-west and made for Jersey. + +As soon as it was light I saw Krok's eyes dwelling on our passenger with a +very natural curiosity. Torode was unknown to him as to most of us, but +there was a whole world of enquiry in his face as he sat looking down on +the unconscious face below--studying it, pondering it, catching, I thought, +at times half glimpses of the past in it. + +I saw that I must tell him a part of the truth, at all events, for I should +need much help from him. My mind had been running ahead of the boat, and +trying the ways in front, and it seemed to me that Jersey was no safe +refuge for a forfeited life. + +Torode of Herm was a name known in all those coasts. The news of his +treacheries and uprooting was bound to get there before long. Some +long-headed busybody might stumble on our secret and undo us. My mind had +been seeking a more solitary place, and, ranging to and fro, had lighted on +the Ecrehou rocks, which I had visited once with my grandfather and Krok +and had never forgotten. + +"Do you know who this is, Krok?" I asked, and he raised his puzzled face +and fixed his deep-set eyes on mine. + +He shook his head, and sat, with his chin in his hands and his elbows on +his knees, gazing down into the face below, and I sat watching him what +time I could spare from my steering. + +And at last he knelt down suddenly and did exactly as Uncle George had +done--lifted the black moustache from off the unconscious man's mouth, and +threw back his own head to study the result. Then I saw a wave of hot +blood rush into his face and neck, and when it went it left his face gray. +He looked at me with eyes full of wonder and pain, and then nodded his big +head heavily. + +"Who, then?" and he looked round in dumb impatience for something to write +with, and quivered with excitement. But the ballast was bars of iron +rescued from the sea, and there was nothing that would serve. + +Then of a sudden he whipped out his knife, and with the point of it jerkily +traced on the thwart where I sat, the word "FATHER," and pointed his knife +at me. + +"Yes," I nodded. "It is my father come back, when we all thought him dead. +He comes in disgrace, and his life would be forfeited if they found him, so +you and I are going to hide him for a time--till he is himself, and can go +away again." + +Krok nodded, and he was probably thinking of my mother, for his fist +clenched and he shook it bitterly at the unconscious man. + +Then he knelt again, and looked at his wound, and shook his head. + +"It was I shot him, not knowing who he was. And so I must save his life, or +have his blood on my hands." + +From Krok's grim face I judged that the latter would have been most to his +mind. + +"I thought of trying the Ecrehous. We could build a shelter with some of +the old stones, and he will be safer there than in Jersey. But I must get a +doctor to him, or he'll slip through our hands." + +Krok pondered all this, and then, pointing ahead to the bristle of rocks in +front and to himself, and then to me and the wounded man and to Jersey, I +understood that he would land on the Ecrehous and build the shelter, while +I took the wounded man on to Jersey to find a doctor. And that chimed well +with my ideas. + +The sun had been up about three hours when we ran past the Dirouilles, with +sharp eyes and a wide berth for outlying fragments, and edged cautiously in +towards the Ecrehous. The sea was set so thick with rocks, some above and +some below water, that we dropped our sail and felt our way in with the +oars, and so came slowly past the Nipple to the islet, where once a chapel +stood. + +It was as lonely and likely a shelter for a shipwrecked soul as could be +found, at once a hiding-place and a sanctuary. Sparse grass grew among the +rocks, but no tree or shrub of any kind at that time. The ruins of the holy +place alone spoke of man and his handiwork. + +All around was the free breath of life,--which, at times, indeed, might +sound more akin to rushing death,--and the sea and the voice of it; and the +stark rocks sticking up through it like the fragments of a broken world. +And above was the great dome of the sky--peaceful, pitiless, according to +that which was within a man. + +Krok scrambled ashore, and I handed him all that was left of our +provisioning, then with a wave of the hand I turned and pulled clear of the +traps and ran for Rozel Bay. + +There was a little inn at the head of the bay, which had seen many a +stranger sight than a wounded man. I had no difficulty in securing +accommodation there, and the display of my money ensured me fullest +service, such as it was. I told them plainly that the unconscious man was +related to me, and that he had received his wound at my hands. I let them +believe it was an accident, and that we came from the coast of France. They +were full of rough sympathy, and when I had seen him put into a comfortable +bed, and had dropped some more cognac into him, I started at once for St. +Heliers to find a doctor. + +There was no difficulty in that. I went to the first I was told of, and +fell fortunately. I described the nature of the wound, so far as I knew it, +and told him the bullet was still there. He got the necessary instruments +and we drove back to Rozel in his two-wheeled gig. Dr. Le Gros wore a great +blue cloak, and his manner was brusque, but cloak and manner covered a very +kind heart. Moreover, he had had a very large experience in gun-shot +wounds, and he was a man of much discretion. + +As soon as he set eyes on the wound he rated me soundly for not having it +seen to before, and I bore it meekly. His patient was his only concern. He +did not ask a single question as to how it was caused, or where we came +from. It seemed, however, to puzzle or annoy him. He pinched his lips and +shook his head over it, and said angrily, "'Cre nom-de-Dieu! It should have +been seen to before!" + +"But, monsieur," I said, "we have no doctor, else I would not have brought +him here." + +"But, nom-de-Dieu! that bullet should have been got out at once. It is +pressing on the brain. It may have set up inflammation, and what _that_ may +lead to the good God alone knows!" + +"Pray get it out at once, monsieur." + +"Ay, ay, that's all very well, but the damage may be done, and now, 'cre +nom-de-Dieu, you expect me to undo it." + +"I am sorry." + +"Sorry won't set this right,"--with a shake of the head like an angry +bull,--"No--'cre nom-de-Dieu!" + +He was a rather violent old man, but skillful with his terrible little +tools, and he worked away with them till I left him hurriedly. + +He came out after a time with the bullet in his hand, "Le v'la," he said +tersely. "And if that was all--bien! But--!" and he shook his head +ominously, and talked of matters connected with the brain which were quite +beyond me, but still caused me much discomfort. + +He told me what to do and promised to return next day. + +Torode--I never could bring myself to think of him as my father--came to +himself during the night, for in the morning his eyes were open and they +followed me with a puzzled lack of understanding. He evidently did not know +where he was or how he got there. But he lay quietly and asked no questions +except with his eyes. + +When the doctor came he asked, "Has he spoken yet?" + +"Not yet;" and he nodded. + +"How long must he stop here, Monsieur le Docteur?" + +"It depends," he said, looking at me thoughtfully. "Another week at all +events. You want to take him home?" + +"He is better at home." + +"I must keep him for a week at all events." + +So that day I took over some provisionings for Krok, and found him well +advanced with his building. He had got the walls of a small cabin about +half-way up, and had collected drift timber enough to roof it and to spare. +I told him how things stood, put in a few hours' work with him on the +house, and got back to Rozel. + +"Has he spoken?" was the doctor's first question next day. + +"Not a word." + +"Ah!" with a weighty nod, and he lifted Torode's left hand, and when he let +it go it fell limply. + +And again, each day, his first question was, "Has he spoken?" And my reply +was always the same. For, whether through lack of power or strength of will +I could not tell, but certain it was that no word of any kind had so far +passed between us. + +One time, coming upon him unawares, I saw his lips moving as though he were +attempting speech to himself, but as soon as he saw me he set himself once +more to his grim silence, and the look in his eyes reminded me somehow of +Krok. + +On the seventh day, when the doctor asked his usual question, and I as +usual replied, he said gravely, "'Cre nom-de-Dieu, I doubt if he will ever +speak again. You see--" and he went off into a very full and deep +explanation about certain parts of the brain, of which I understood nothing +except that they were on the left side and controlled the powers of speech, +and he feared the bullet and the inflammation it had caused had damaged +them beyond repair. And when I turned to look at Torode the dumb misery in +his eyes assured me in my own mind that it was so, for I had seen just that +look in Krok's eyes many a time. + +Another whole week I waited, visiting Krok three times in all, and the +last time finding him living quite contentedly in the finished house. And +then, Torode having spoken no word, and the doctor saying he could do no +more for him, I had him carried down to the boat and took him across to the +Ecrehous. + +He had been gaining strength daily, and, except for a certain +disinclination to exertion of any kind, and his lack of speech, looked +almost himself again. Later on, when he walked and worked, I noticed a +weakness in his left arm, and his left leg dragged a little. + +At Krok's suggestion I had bargained for a small boat, and I took him also +a further supply of provisions, and flour, and fishing-lines. And before I +left them I thought it right to explain to Torode just what had happened. + +He listened in a cold black fury, but fell soon into a slough of despond. +His life was over, but he was not dead. For him, as for the rest of us, +death would, I think, have been more merciful--and yet, I would not have +had him die at my hands. + +And so I left the two dumb men on the Ecrehous and returned to Sercq, and +of my welcome there I need not tell. + +My mother and Aunt Jeanne were full of questionings which taxed my wits to +breaking point to evade, especially Aunt Jeanne's. She tried to trap me in +a hundred ways, leading up from the most distant and innocent points to +that which had kept me away so long. And since truth consists as much in +not withholding as in telling, I was brought within measurable distance of +lying by Aunt Jeanne's pertinacity, for which I think the blame should +fairly rest with her. + +I told them simply that I had been on matters connected with Torode, and +would still be engaged on them for some time to come, and left it there. + +Carette, of course, understood, and approved all I had done. She saw with +me the necessity of keeping the matter from my mother, lest her peace of +mind should suffer shipwreck again, and to no purpose. Her loving +tenderness and thought for my mother at this time were a very great delight +to me, and commended her still more to my mother herself. + +My grandfather was still in Guernsey. His leg had taken longer to heal than +it might have done, and, failing my information against the Herm men, his +was of use to the authorities in preparing the charge against them. + +There were near forty prisoners brought over from Sercq, some of them so +sorely wounded that it was doubtful if they would live until their trial. +The rest had been killed, except some few who were said to have got across +to France. To my great relief neither young Torode nor his mother was among +the dead or the captives. + +Krok was supposed in Sercq to be with my grandfather in Guernsey, and his +absence excited no remark. For myself, in Sercq my absence was accounted +for by the necessity for my being in Guernsey,--while in Guernsey an +exaggerated account of the wound I had received on the Coupee offered +excuse for my retirement; and so the matter passed without undue comment. + +George Hamon had informed my grandfather of his recognition of Torode, and +he told me afterwards that for a very long time the old man flatly refused +to believe it. + +My news of Torode's recovery was not, I think, over-welcome to Uncle +George. He would have preferred him dead, and the old trouble buried for +ever, forgetting always that his death must have left something of a cloud +on my life, though he always argued strongly against that view of the case. + +"I find it hard to swallow, mon gars, in spite of George Hamon's +assurance," said my grandfather when we spoke of it. + +"I found it hard to believe. But Uncle George had no doubts about it. Krok, +too, recognised him." + +"Krok did? Ah--then--" and he nodded slow acceptance of the unwelcome fact. + +Before I was through with the telling of my story, and signing it, and +swearing to it before various authorities, I was heartily sick of the whole +matter, and wished, as indeed I had good reason, that I had never sailed +with John Ozanne in the _Swallow_. + +But--"pas de rue sans but"--and at last all that unpleasing business was +over--except a little after-clap of which you will hear presently. + +After many delays and formalities, all the prisoners were condemned to +death, and I was free to go home and be my own man again. + +Twice while in Guernsey I had taken advantage of the slow course of the law +to run across to Jersey and so to the Ecrehous, and found Torode settled +down in dumb bitterness to the narrow life that was left to him. + +He was quite recovered in every way save that of speech, but that great +loss broke his power and cut him off from his kind. + +I had never told him that his wound came from my hand, but he associated me +with it in some way, and showed so strong a distaste for my company that I +thought well to go no more. + +He had taken a dislike to old Krok too. Their common loss had in it the +elements of mockery, and on my second visit Krok expressed a desire to +return to Sercq. Torode could maintain himself by fishing, as they had done +together, and could barter his surplus at Rozel or Gorey for anything he +required. + +And so we left him to his solitude, and he seemed content to have us go. +George Hamon, however, ran across now and again in his lugger to see how he +was getting on, and to make sure that he was still there, and perhaps with +the hope that sooner or later that which was in himself still, as strong as +it had been any time this twenty years, might find its reward. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +HOW I CAME INTO RICH TREASURE + + +"Carette, ma mie," I asked, as we sat in the heather on Longue Pointe, the +evening after I got home, "when shall we marry?" + +"When you will, Phil. I am ready." + +"As soon as may be then," and I drew her close into my arms, the richest +treasure any man might have, and thanked God for his mercies. + +It was a glorious evening, with a moon like a silver sickle floating over +Guernsey. The sky was of a rare depth and purity, which changed from palest +blue to faintest green, and away to the north-west, above the outer isles, +the sun was sinking behind a bank of plum-coloured clouds which faded away +in long thin bands along the water line. The clouds were rimmed with golden +fire, and wherever an opening was, the golden glory streamed through and +lit the darkening waters between, and set our bold Sercq headlands all +aflame. And up above, the little wind-drawn clouds were rosy red, and right +back into the east the sky was flushed with colour. It was a very low tide, +too, and every rock was bared, so that from the white spit of Herm it +seemed as though a long dark line of ships sped northwards towards the +Casquets. Brecqhou lay dark before us, and the Gouliot Pass was black with +its coiling tide. A flake of light glimmered through the cave behind, and +now and again came the boom of a wave under some low ledge below. Up above +us the sky was full of larks, and their sweet sharp notes came down to us +like peals of little silver bells. And down in Havre Gosselin the gulls +were wheeling noisily as they settled themselves for the night. + +I have always thought that view one of the most beautiful in the world, but +all its glories were as nothing to the greater glory in our two hearts. We +had had our cloudy days and our times of storm and strife; and now they +were past, our clouds were turned into golden glories and our hearts were +glad. We had been parted. We had looked death in the face. And now we were +together and we would part no more. + +We sat there in the heather till all the glories faded save our own,--till +Guernsey and Herm and Jethou sank into the night--till Brecqhou was only a +shadow, and the Gouliot stream only a sound; and then we went down the +scented lanes close-linked, as were our hearts. + +Jean Le Marchant was sitting in the kitchen with Aunt Jeanne. He was +recovered of his wound, and Martin also, but for the elder, at all events, +active life was over, and he would have to be content with the land, and +his memories. + +We came in arm in arm. + +"Do you see any objection to our marrying at once, M. Le Marchant?" I +asked. "We are of one mind in the matter." + +"B'en!" said Aunt Jeanne, with a face like a globe of light. "We will have +it on Wednesday. You can go over to the Dean for a license, mon gars, and +I'll be all ready--Wednesday--you understand." + +And Jean Le Marchant smiled and said, "At Beaumanoir Mistress Falla rules +the roost. Everyone does as she says." + +"I should think so," said Aunt Jeanne, with an emphatic nod. "If they don't +I know the reason why. So we'll say Wednesday. Have you had the news, +Phil?" + +"What news then, Aunt Jeanne?" + +"Ah then, you've not heard. George Hamon was in from Guernsey. He says you +are to get the reward offered by the London Merchants for the upsetting of +Monsieur Torode." + +"I?" + +"And who better, mon gars? If it hadn't been for you, he'd be there yet +gobbling their ships at his will. Now don't you be a fool, my dear. Take +what the good God sends you with a good grace. You'll find a use for it +when the babies begin coming, I warrant you. Little pigs don't fatten on +water. Ma fe, non!"--at which bit of Aunt Jeanne, Carette only laughed, +with a fine colour in her face. + +And to make an end of that, in due time the five thousand pounds was indeed +sent to me, and I put it in the bank in Guernsey for the use of Carette +"and the children" as Aunt Jeanne said--and of the interest I reserved a +portion for the provision of such small comforts as were possible to the +lonely one on the Ecrehous. + +And so, by no merit of my own, I became a man of substance and not +dependent on Aunt Jeanne's bounty, which I think she would have preferred. + +We were married in the little church alongside the Seigneurie at the head +of the valley, by M. Pierre Paul Secretan, and Aunt Jeanne's enjoyment +therein and in the feast that followed was, I am certain, greater than any +she had felt when she was married herself. + +We continued to live with her at Beaumanoir, and she gave me of her wisdom +in all matters relating to the land and its treatment, as she did also to +Carette in household matters and the proper bringing up of a family, about +which latter subject she knew far more than any mother that ever was born. + +In me she found an apt pupil, and so came to leave matters more and more in +my hands, with sharp criticism of all mistakes and ample advice for setting +things right. + +Carette drank in all her wisdom--until the babies came, and then she took +her own way with them, and, judging by results, it was an excellent way. + +George Hamon still brought me word from time to time of the exile on the +Ecrehous. + +We were sitting over the fire, one cold night in the spring, Carette and I, +Aunt Jeanne having gone to bed to get warm, when a knock came on the door, +and when I opened it George Hamon came in and stood before the hearth. He +looked pinched and cold, and yet aglow with some inner warmth, and his +first word told why. + +"He is dead, Phil. I found him lying in his bed as if asleep, but he was +dead." + +I nodded soberly. He was better dead, but I was glad he had not died by my +hand. + +"I have got him here--" said Uncle George. + +"Here?" and I jumped up quickly. + +"In my boat down in Port du Moulin." + +"But why?" + +"Because--" and he stood looking at us, and Carette nodded understandingly. +And at that he went on quickly--"Because I have waited over twenty years, +Phil, and I am going to wait no longer," and I understood. + +"You are going to tell her?" I asked. + +"Yes--now. I must. But not all, I think. We will see. But not all if we can +help it. It will open the old wound, but, please God, I will heal it and +she shall be happy yet." + +"Yes," I said. "I think you can heal the wound, Uncle George. What do you +want me to do?" + +"Come with me, if you will;" and I kissed my wife and followed him out. + +"You understand," he said, as we went across the fields to Belfontaine. "He +was among Torode's men. I recognised him, and we smuggled him off so that +he should not be hanged;" and on that understanding we knocked on the door +and went in. + +My grandfather was reading in one of his big books, my mother was at her +knitting, and Krok was busy over a fishing-net. + +"Ah, you two!" said my mother. "What mischief are you plotting now? It is +like old times to see you with your heads together. But, ma fe, you seem to +have changed places. What trouble have you been getting into, George?" + +"Aw then, Rachel!--It is out of trouble I am getting. I bring you strange +news;" and she sat looking up at him with deep wonder in her eyes. + +Perhaps she saw behind his face into his thoughts--into his heart. For, as +she gazed, a startled look came over her, and her face flushed and made +her young again. + +"What is it?" + +"Paul Martel died yesterday." + +"Paul?" and her hand went quickly to her heart, as though to still a sudden +stab of pain, and for the moment her face whitened and then dyed red again. + +Krok had eyed Uncle George keenly from the moment he entered. Now he did a +strange thing. He got up quietly and took down a lantern and went to the +fire to light it. Perhaps it had been an understood thing between them. I +do not know. + +My mother looked at Krok and then at Uncle George, and my grandfather stood +up. + +"Yes," said Uncle George with a grave nod. "I have got him here--in my boat +in Port du Moulin, for I knew you could not credit it unless you saw him +yourself." + +"But how--?" she faltered. + +"He was among Torode's crew--he was wounded. I recognised him, and we got +him away lest--well, you understand? He has been living on the Ecrehous, +and he died there yesterday. Will you see him?" and he looked at her very +earnestly, and she knew all that his look meant. + +Her silence seemed long, while Uncle George looked at her entreatingly, and +she looked at the floor, and seemed lost in thought. + +"Yes," she said at last, and Went towards the door. + +"Put on a shawl. The night is cold," said Uncle George, and it seemed to me +that there was something of a new and gentle right in his tone, something +of proprietorship in his manner. + +And so we went along the footpaths past La Moinerie and down the zigzag +into Port du Moulin, the only bay along that coast into which my mother +could possibly have gone by night, and that was why Uncle George had +brought him there. + +I do not think a word was spoken all the way. Krok held the lantern for my +mother's feet. Uncle George walked close behind her, and at times before +her, in the descent, and helped her down, and so we came at last to the +shingle and crunched over it to the boat. + +Krok put down his lantern on a rock, and he and Uncle George got in and +pulled out to the lugger which was anchored about twenty yards out. + +They came back presently, and lifted out the body and laid it gently on the +stones, and Krok brought his lantern. My mother's face was very white and +pinched as she knelt down beside it, and at first sight she started and +looked quickly up at Uncle George as though in doubt or denial. And +presently Uncle George bent down and with his hand lifted the moustache +back from the dead man's mouth, and my mother gazed into the dark face and +said quietly, "It is he," then she seized my grandfather's arm suddenly and +turned away. They were stumbling over the rough stones when Krok ran after +them with the lantern and came back in the dark. + +We laid the body in the boat again, and Krok lifted in some great round +stones, and we rowed out to the black loom of the lugger. Uncle George lit +his own lantern, and by its dim light Krok set to work preparing my +father's body for its last journey. + +Whether he was simply anxious to get done with the business, or whether he +felt a gloomy satisfaction in performing these last rites for a man whom he +had always hated for his treatment of my mother, I do not know. But he +certainly went about it with a grim earnestness which was not very far +removed from enjoyment. + +He stripped the mizzen-mast of its sail, and Uncle George said no word +against it. If Krok had required the lugger itself as a coffin he would not +have said him nay. + +He wrapped the body carefully in the sail, with great smooth stones from +the beach, and with some rope and his knife he sewed it all tightly +together, and pulled each knot home with a jerk that was meant to be final, +and his hairy old face was crumpled into a frown as he worked. + +We ran swiftly up Great Russel under the strong west wind, until, by the +longer swing of the seas, we knew we were free of the rocks and islands +north of Herm. + +Then Uncle George turned her nose to the wind, and under the slatting sail, +with bared heads, we committed to the seas the body of him who had wrought +such mischief upon them and in some of our lives. + +"Dieu merci!" said Uncle George, as the long white figure slipped from our +hands and plunged down through the black waters. Then he clapped on his cap +and turned the helm, and the lugger went bounding back quicker than she had +come, for she and we were lightened of our loads. + +We ran back round Brecqhou into Havre Gosselin, and climbed the ladders and +went to our homes. + +Uncle George and my mother were married just a month after our little Phil +was born, and I learned again, from the look on my mother's face, that a +woman's age is counted not by years but by that which the years have +brought her. + +They have been very happy. There is only one happier household on the +Island, and that is ours at Beaumanoir, for it is full of the sound of +children's voices, and the patter of little feet. + + + + +THE FORTY MEN OF SERCQ IN THE YEAR 1800 + + +EAST SIDE + +No. Name of House. Tenant. + + 1. Le Fort Thomas Hamon. + 2. Le Grand Fort Jean Le Feuvre. + 3. La Tour Amice Le Couteur (Senechal). + 4. La Genetiere Philippe Guille. + 5. La Rade Thomas Mauger. + 6. La Ville Roussel Pierre Le Feuvre. + 7. La Ville Roussel Abraham De Carteret. + 8. La Ville Roussel Jean Vaudin. + 9. La Ville Roussel Philippe Guille. +10. La Ville Roussel Jean Drillot. +11. Le Carrefour Elie Guille. +12. La Valette de Bas Elie Guille. +13. La Valette Robert De Carteret. +14. Vaux de Creux Pierre Le Pelley (Seigneur). +15. La Friponnerie Martin Le Masurier. +16. La Colinette Jean Falle. +17. Le Manoir Pierre Le Pelley (Seigneur). +18. La Vauroque Thomas De Carteret. +19. La Forge Thomas De Carteret. +20. La Pomme du Chien Pierre Le Pelley (Seigneur). +21. Dixcart Thomas Godfray. +22. Grand Dixcart Henri Le Masurier. +23. Petit Dixcart Eliza Poidestre. +24. La Jaspellerie William Le Masurier. +25. Clos Bourel Abraham Guille. + +PETIT SERCQ + +26. La Sablonnerie Philippe Guille. +27. La Moussie Nicholas Mollet. +28. La Friponnerie Philippe Baker. + +WEST SIDE + +PETIT SERCQ + +29. Du Vallerie Jean Hamon. +30. La Pipetterie Helier Baker. + +SERCQ + +31. Dos d'Ane Abraham Guille. +32. Beauregard Philippe Slowley. +33. Beauregard Pierre Le Masurier. +34. Le Vieux Port Philippe Tanquerel. +35. Le Port Edouard Vaudin. +36. La Moignerie Jean Le Feuvre. +37. La Rondelrie Thomas Mauger. +38. La Moinerie Abraham Baker. +39. L'Ecluse William De Carteret. +40. La Seigneurie Pierre Le Pelley. + +And for the purposes of this story-- + + Belfontaine Philip Carre. + Beaumanoir Peter Le Marchant (Jeanne Falla). + +_Printed by_ MORRISON & GIBB LIMITED, _Edinburgh_ + + + + +Illustrations: + +Map of SERCQ. + +THE WEST COAST OF SARK AND BRECQHOU. The standing rocks are the +AUTELETS. The first bay on the left is SAIGNIE; the next, PORT DU +MOULIN; then behind the great rock TINTAGEU is PORT A LA JUMENT. The +GOULIOT PASS seperates SARK from BRECQHOU; the house on BRECQHOU was in +the dip just above where the white waves are breaking. The GALE de JACOB +is close to the first cave. + +THE CREUX ROAD, Which leads straight up to the life and centre of the +Island. + +HAVRE GOSSELIN, and "The Cottage above the Chasm," which Paul Martel +built for Rachel Carre. + +TINTAGEU. The great detached rock in foreground is TINTAGEU; to the +left, the altar rock on which Phil used to lie; the bay behind is PORT A +LA JUMENT with BELFONTAINE in the cliffs at the head of it; in the +foreground THE GOULIOT ROCKS and PASSAGE; on the right BRECQHOU. + +THE LADY GROTTO. "We knew every rock and stone, and every nook and +cranny of the beetling cliffs." This is the LADY GROTTO near THE +EPERQUERIE. + +A QUIET LANE. "The quiet gray lane, with its fern-covered banks and +hedges of roses and honeysuckle." + +THE EPERQUERIE. Above the shoulder of the hill to the left, JETHOU just +appears; the larger island with the long painted beak is HERM, with her +string of islets like a fleet of ships speeding to the north. The lower +of the two out-jutting headlands is where the Herm men landed. The +higher is BEC DU NEZ, the most northerly point of SARK. + +IN THE CLEFT OF A ROCK. + +BELOW BEAUMANOIR. "And in Sercq, the headlands were great soft cushions +of velvet turf, the heather purpled all the hillsides, and, on the gray +rocks below, the long waves shouted aloud because they were free." This +is the slope below "BEAUMANOIR," looking into PORT ES SAIES. + +BRECQHOU FROM THE SOUTH. "I looked across at BRECQHOU as I came in sight +of the Western Waters." This shows BRECQHOU from the south. The dark +gash near the head is THE PIRATES' CAVE. The island behind BRECQHOU is +HERM. The end of JETHOU just shows on the left. GUERNSEY lies beyond +them. + +THE COUPEE. Leading from SARK to LITTLE SARK. At the time of the +story, the path was much narrower than now, there were no supporting +walls, and it was continually breaking away. The pinnacles of the +buttresses were also much higher. The Island to the left is LE TAS or +L'ETAC. + +THE CHASM OF THE BOUTIQUES. "The tide was still churning among its slabs +and boulders." + +THE WATER CAVE. "The roof and walls were studded with anemones of every +size and colour." + +EPERQUERIE BAY. Showing the bluff from which the men of SARK fired down +on the men of HERM as they landed the boats. + +DIXCART BAY. Where the Herm men landed, is in the centre of the picture, +right below the ruined mill on HOG'S BACK. The straight-walled cliff on +the right of the bay is where the Sark men took their stand. The +out-stretching point on the right is DERRIBLE. + +CREUX TUNNEL. Cut by Helier de Carteret in 1588 as an entrance to the +Island. Here PHIL fought the Herm men single-handed. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Carette of Sark, by John Oxenham + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CARETTE OF SARK *** + +***** This file should be named 16666.txt or 16666.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/6/6/16666/ + +Produced by Steven Gibbs, Melissa Er-Raqabi and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. + + +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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