with the
briefest delay, I might have gone with Rene that same day, wrapped up
in a certain cloak which had done good warming service already; and
that, as Rene had constructed with his cunning hands a sufficient if
not very pretty sandal for my damaged foot out of some old piece of
felt, I might have walked from the beach to the fishing village; and
that there, no doubt, a cart or a donkey might have conveyed me home
in triumph.

Perhaps it did _not_ occur to him; and certainly I had no desire to
suggest it on my side.

Thus, soon after mid-day, Master Rene departed alone. And Sir Adrian
and I, both very glad of our reprieve, watched, leaning side by side
upon the window-sill, the brave little craft glide away on the still
ruffled waters, until, when it had grown very small in the distance,
we saw the sail lowered and knew Rene had reached mainland.

And that was perhaps the best day of the three. Rene having been
unexpectedly despatched, we had to help to do everything ourselves
with old Margery, who is rather feeble. The sky was clear and
beautiful; and, followed gravely by Jem the dog, we went round the
little outer domain. I fed the hens, and Sir Adrian carried the pail
when Margery had milked the cow; we paid a visit in his wide paddock
to the pony, who trotted up to his master whinnying with pleasure. We
looked at the waters rushing past like a mill race on the further side
of the island, as the tide was rising, and he explained to me that it
was this rush which makes the neighbourhood of Scarthey so dangerous
to unwary crafts; we went down into the sea-caves which penetrate deep
under the ruins.--They say that in olden days there was a passage
under the rocky causeway that led as far as the old Priory, but all
traces of it have been effaced.

Then, later on, Sir Adrian showed me in detail his library.

"I was made to be a man of books," he said, when I wondered at the
number he had accumulated around him--there must be thousands, "a man
of study, not of action. And you know how fate has treated me. These
have been my one consolation of late years."

And it marvelled me to think that one who had achieved so many manly
deeds, should love musty old tiresome things so much. He really turned
them over quite reverentially. I myself do not think much of books as
companions.

When I made that little confession he smiled rather sadly, and said
that one like me never would lack the suitable companions of youth a