re still there on Brecqhou, and Carette is nursing them back
to life. But I think"--and there was a touch of pride in her pleasure at
it--"she has been here every time she has come across to see Jeanne Falla.
She is a good girl ...and I think she is prettier than ever." But for
myself I thought that was perhaps because she saw her with new eyes.

"And my grandfather?--and Krok?"

"Both well, only much troubled about you. I do not think they ever expected
to see you again, my boy. Your grandfather has blamed himself, I think, for
ever letting you go, and it has aged him. Krok gave you up too, I think,
but he has never ceased to keep an eye on Carette for you. I doubt if he
has missed going over to Brecqhou any single day, except when the weather
made it quite impossible."

"God bless him for that!"

And even as I spoke, the door opened and Krok came in, but a Krok that we
hardly knew.

He was in a state of most intense agitation. I thought at first that it was
on my account,--that he had heard of my arrival. But in a moment I saw that
it was some greater thing still that moved him.

At sight of me he stopped, as if doubting his senses,--or tried to stop,
for that which was in him would not let him stand still. He was bursting
with some news, and my heart told me it was ill news. His eyes rolled and
strained, his dumb mouth worked, he fairly gripped and shook himself in
his frantic striving after communication with us.

My mother was alarmed, but yet kept her wits. Truly it seemed to me that
unless he could tell us quickly what was in him something inside must give
way under the strain. She ran quickly to a drawer in her dresser, and
pulled out a sheet of paper and a piece of charcoal, and laid them before
him on the table. He jumped at them, but his hand shook so that it only
made senseless scratches on the paper. I heard his teeth grinding with
rage. He seized his right hand with his left, and held it and quieted
himself by a great effort. And slowly and jerkily he wrote, in letters that
fell about the page,--"Carette--Torode--" and then the charcoal fell out of
his hand and he rolled in a heap on the floor.

My heart gave a broken kick and fell sickly. It dropped in a moment to what
had happened. Failing to end us, Torode had swung round Le Tas and run for
Brecqhou, where Carette, alone with her two sick men, would be completely
at his mercy. He would carry her off, gather his gear on Herm, and be away
before P