deep stillness enfolded the cottage.

Suddenly, a sharp tap rang through the kitchen. Perrin started, his
dreams scattered. He listened, breathless, his island blood frozen,
his Celtic temperament at once calling up visions of the
supernatural.

Again the tap sounded on the window; and this time, a familiar voice
re-assured Perrin.

"Let me in, Corbet, quick, I bring bad news."

In a moment Cartier stood in the kitchen and cried breathlessly,

"Have you seen Ellenor? She hasn't been home since early this
afternoon!"

The ruddy colour left Perrin's tanned face.

"My God, no, I haven't seen her! What, then, can have happened?"

Then, with graphic, trembling words, Jean told how Ellenor had gone
to Saint Pierre to buy some finery for her wedding bonnet; how, hour
after hour, when the snow was thick and the wind howled over the
moorland, she had been anxiously looked for; how, at last, in
despair, he had said to his wife that he would go to Perrin, for
they must be off to look for Ellenor all the way to Saint Pierre
Port.

At once, Corbet went upstairs, and, waking his mother, told her the
story of his girl's mysterious disappearance.

"We'll go round to Les Casquets and bring Mrs. Cartier over here,
mother. She's a poor creature, and she can't be left alone. Who can
tell when Cartier and I will be back!"

It was two o'clock before the men started to walk to Saint Pierre
Port. It was brilliant moonlight at four o'clock, and the gusts of
snow had died away with the wind; but the men searched, in vain, for
any trace of Ellenor. As soon as it was dawn, the two parishes were
roused, and those who were kind helped to look for the missing girl.
The rest shrugged their shoulders and said that Christmas Day was
not meant to be wasted in such a search, for such a queer wild girl
as Ellenor Cartier. At last a child found in a hedge a paper bag: it
contained a spray of artificial flowers, a few drenched roses. The
child's mother guessed this must be the finery Ellenor had gone to
buy, for everyone knew the pitiful story by now. But the hedge was
ominously near Rocquaine Bay. What did this mean?

After three days of minute search, the band of men gave up in
despair; and Jean and Perrin went back to the routine of daily work
in dogged and patient despair. The fisherman wondered if Le Mierre
had heard the news, shut up in Lihou Island, where his wife lay very
ill of small-pox, which was raging in different parts of Guerns