er dress.

"Martin," she said again, "see, I have brought you Tardifs coat in place
of your own. You must not lie here in this way. Captain Carey's yacht is
waiting for you below."

I staggered giddily when I stood on my feet, and only Olivia's look of
pain steadied me. She had been weeping bitterly. I could not trust
myself to look in her face again. At any rate my next duty was to go
away without adding to her distress, if that were possible. Tardif was
standing behind her, regarding us both with great concern.

"Doctor," he said, "when I came in from my lobster-pots, the captain
sent a message by me to say the sun would be gone down before you reach
Guernsey. He has come round to the Havre Gosselin. I'll walk down the
cliff with you."

I should have said no, but Olivia caught at his words eagerly.

"Yes, go, my good Tardif," she cried, "and bring me word that Dr. Martin
is safe on board.--Good-by!"

Her hand in mine again for a moment, with its slight pressure. Then she
was gone, Tardif was tramping down the stony path before me, speaking to
me over his shoulder.

"It has not gone well, then, doctor?" he said.

"She will tell you," I answered, briefly, not knowing how much Olivia
might wish him to know.

"Take care of mam'zelle," I said, when we had reached the top of the
ladder, and the little boat from the yacht was dancing at the foot of
it. "There is some danger ahead, and you can protect her better than I."

"Yes, yes," he replied; "you may trust her with me. But God knows I
should have been glad if it had gone well with you."

CHAPTER THE THIRTY-FIRST.

A STORY IN DETAIL.

"Well?" said Captain Carey, as I set my foot on the deck. His face was
all excitement; and he put his arm affectionately through mine.

"It is all wrong," I answered, gloomily.

"You don't mean that she will not have you?" he exclaimed.

I nodded, for I had no spirit to explain the matter just then.

"By George!" he cried; "and you've thrown over Julia, and offended all
our Guernsey folks, and half broken your poor mother's heart, all for
nothing!"

The last consideration was the one that stung me to the quick. It _had_
half broken my mother's heart. No one knew better than I that it had
without doubt tended to shorten her fleeting term of life. At this
moment she was waiting for me to bring her good news--perhaps the
promise that Olivia had consented to become my wife before her own last
hour arrived; for my mo