n my boyhood, when all my holidays were
spent in Sark, though he was some years older than I; and our friendship
was still firm and true, though it had slackened a little from absence.
I shook his hand heartily, giving it a good hard grip in token of my
unaltered friendship--a grip which he returned with his fingers of iron
till my own tingled again.

"I knew you'd come," he gasped.

"Ah, I'll go, Tardif," I said; "only I must get a snatch of something to
eat while Dr. Dobree puts up what I shall have need of. I'll be ready in
half an hour. Go into the kitchen, and get some dinner yourself."

"Thank you, Dr. Martin," he answered, his voice still unsteady, and his
mustache quivering; "but I can eat nothing. I'll go down and have the
boat ready. You'll waste no time?"

"Not a moment," I promised.

I left my father to put up the things I should require, supposing he had
heard all the particulars of the accident from Tardif. He was inclined
to grumble a little at me for going; but I asked him what else I could
have done. As he had no answer ready to that question, I walked away to
the dining-room, where my mother and Julia were waiting; for dinner was
ready, as we dined early on Sundays on account of the servants. Julia
was suffering from the beginning of a bilious attack, to which she was
subject, and her eyes were heavy and dull. I told them hastily where I
was going, and what a hurry I was in.

"You are never going across to Sark to-day!" Julia exclaimed.

"Why not?" I asked, taking my seat and helping myself quickly.

"Because I am sure bad weather is coming," she answered, looking
anxiously through a window facing the west. "I could see the coast of
France this morning as plainly as Sark, and the gulls are keeping close
to the shore, and the sunset last night was threatening. I will go and
look at the storm-glass."

She went away, but came back again very soon, with an increase of
anxiety in her face. "Don't go, dear Martin," she said, with her hand
upon my shoulder; "the storm-glass is as troubled as it can be, and the
wind is veering round to the west. You know what that foretells at this
time of the year. There is a storm at hand; take my word for it, and do
not venture across to Sark to-day."

"And what is to become of the poor woman?" I remonstrated. "Tardif says
she has been suffering the pain of a broken limb these twenty-four
hours. It would be my duty to go even if the storm were here, unless the
r