santerie_.

She replied in the same key, and, seeing that the youth comprehended,
the artist prompted a duologue.

"He says," Leonie began by explaining, "the coastguard is ill, he cannot
leave him to go ashore, and does not know what to do. He refuses to take
us back in his boat."

"He is under the delusion we want to go back? Good! Give him money and
say we will stop here and attend his sick man."

This explanation ensured their entry. The boy was evidently relieved of
a burden. The hut was composed merely of two rooms, in one of which a
weather-beaten old man was evidently bedridden from pain. He looked
askance at the two bathers, but at the same time his son put a coin into
the sufferer's hand. The youth, with the acumen of his kind, understood
the relative value of eloquence and action.

"Clothes--food," Leonie translated at her lover's request.

The boy shook his head. Then his eyes fell on the rough suit belonging
to his father which was slung across the end of the bed.

"That might do for me," the artist cogitated, with wrinkled brow, "but
for you?" He looked seriously at his sweetheart. The boy's eyes followed
his glance and read it. The sick man turned in his bed, groaned, and
wondered when these troublesome people were going away.

Leonie rubbed a gentle hand on the invalid's shoulder; it was presumably
the seat of the worst pain. He suffered rheumatism in its most acute
form, so the coastguard explained between his throes. He was afraid to
seek help from the land, lest his condition should be known and he be
removed from his post. Their silence was implored with tears and
prayers--he would give them food and shelter if they would keep his
secret. They promised assuringly.

Meanwhile the lad had disappeared into the inner room--it suggested a
combined kitchen and workshop--and came back dangling from his arm some
fragmentary portions of his wardrobe, which he displayed with pride.

"If madame would condescend?" he hinted.

At the word "madame" Leonie blushed delightedly.

He led the way into the kitchen, and deposited the dry clothes on a
chair.

Ralph remained by the sick man, rubbing the afflicted limb, and
expressing himself in the vilest French he knew in hope to imitate the
local jargon.

He spoke sufficiently to crave bread and drink, and to learn that these
were only obtained when fetched from the land in the island boat. His
son, the coastguard said, was seldom allowed to go ashore, l