n one of the
great storms off the coast of Iceland, and had to go out to service in
order to support herself and her only son. The boy had grown up to
follow his father's trade, and she lived in constant dread of hearing
bad news of him. She was always one among the first to hasten to the
cliff where all the women assembled to catch the first glimpse of the
returning boats. Then there would be the rush to the tiny harbour, each
woman's heart aching with anxiety to see if her dear ones had returned
to her safe and sound. So Mere Bricolin's mind was never at peace,
though she was not dependent now on another's earnings, and had no
intention of being a drag on her son.

Her sunken black eyes had much humour and kindliness, despite the
anxiety and shrewdness which was so apparent in them. She loved a
gossip, too, with such a neighbour as Mrs. Wright; and as they both had
similar anxieties when the boats were delayed by stress of weather, or
when a flag was noticed at half-mast, it was no wonder that Mere
Bricolin did not appear to mind the steep ascent to Mrs. Wright's
dwelling. There was another reason for her activity. Was it not she who
suggested that Mrs. Wright should live in that very place? She had not
intended that the cave should be their permanent abode, and it was not
her fault that Jack and his mother continued to live there; but she had
suggested it on their arrival, and was flattered that they preferred it
to any other place in the village.

Mere Bricolin gazed in amazement at Estelle. She had been disappointed,
not to say a little hurt, in her secret heart when Mrs. Wright refused
to allow her to help in the nursing of the little waif, nor even to see
her, on the ground that the doctor had forbidden any visitors to the
sick-room. By no word had Mrs. Wright let out her suspicions as to the
rank of the little girl. Mere Bricolin expected, therefore, to see a
child much like the other children in the village. Every one in
Tout-Petit knew the story of the rescue. Every woman admired the tall,
handsome English sailor, whose determination and good nursing had saved
the little stranger's life at sea; but they would never have said so.
Was he not a foreigner? Was there not some cause, hidden, but certain as
the nose on the face, that a clever seaman like him must have something
in the background which kept him from a far better position than that of
a common sailor?

But Jack and his mother lived such simple lives