nds us fair
weather I will come back to St. Peter-Port for you in three days. My
name is Tardif. You can ask the people in Peter-Port what sort of a man
Tardif of the Havre Gosselin is."

"I do not want any one to tell me what sort of a man you are," I said,
holding out my hand, red and cold with the keen air. He took it into his
large, rough palm, looking down upon me with an air of friendly
protection.

"What is your name, mam'zelle?" he inquired.

"Oh! my name is Olivia," I said; then I stopped abruptly, for there
flashed across me the necessity for concealing it. Tardif did not seem
to notice my embarrassment.

"There are some Olliviers in St. Peter-Port," he said. "Is mam'zelle of
the same family? But no, that is not probable."

"I have no relations," I answered, "not even in England. I have very few
friends, and they are all far away in Australia. I was born there, and
lived there till I was seventeen."'

The tears sprang to my eyes again, and my new friend saw them, but said
nothing. He moved off at once to the far end of the dock, to help one of
the crew in some heavy piece of work. He did not come hack until the
rain began to return--a fine, drizzling rain, which came in scuds across
the sea.

"Mam'zelle," he said, "you ought to go below; and I will tell you when
we are in sight of Guernsey."

I went below, inexpressibly more satisfied and comforted. What it was in
this man that won my complete, unquestioning confidence, I did not know;
but his very presence, and the sight of his good, trustworthy face, gave
me a sense of security such as I have never felt before or since. Surely
God had sent him to me in my great extremity.

CHAPTER THE FOURTH.

A SAFE HAVEN.

We were two hours after time at St. Peter-Port; and then all was hurry
and confusion, for goods and passengers had to be landed and embarked
for Jersey. Tardif, who was afraid of losing the cutter which would
convey him to Sark, had only time to give me the address of a person
with whom I could lodge until he came to fetch me to his island, and
then he hastened away to a distant part of the quay. I was not sorry
that he should miss finding out that I had no luggage of any kind with
me.

I was busy enough during the next three days, for I had every thing to
buy. The widow with whom I was lodging came to the conclusion that I had
lost all my luggage, and I did not try to remove the false impression.
Through her assistance I was abl