he Bas Rhone in sight beyond, he found himself eagerly
searching the beach, the single street for sign of her. But there was
no sign. Everything about the village was as it always was every early
evening in Bernay-sur-Mer, when it was summer and the light held late.
Strewn out along the beach, the men were at work upon their boats and
nets; the children played about the doorways; through the open doors
one could see the women busy over the evening meal--nothing else! And
surely there would have been some stir of excitement if the strangers
were still there, at least amongst the children--it was an event, that,
to Bernay-sur-Mer. They had gone then, evidently!

Jean's eyes lifted from a fruitless sweep of the beach to fix on the
figure of Papa Fregeau emerging on the run from the Bas Rhone.

"The fish, Jean! The fish!" the fat little man called out breathlessly.

"The fish?" repeated Jean--and then, a little sheepishly, stared into
the empty basket.

Papa Fregeau, who had reached Jean's side, was staring into it too.

"Yes--the fish! The fish!" he shouted. "Where are the fish you
promised to bring back?"

And then Jean laughed.

"Why," said Jean, "I--I think I must have forgotten them."

Papa Fregeau was excited. He began to dance up and down, his fat
paunch shaking like jelly.

"Idiot! Imbecile!" he stormed. "Have I not had trouble enough without
this! _Sacre bleu de misericorde_! What an afternoon! And you
laugh--_bete_, that you are! And now what shall I do?"

"Do?" said Jean---and stopped laughing. "What is the matter?"

"Matter!" spluttered the patron of the Bas Rhone. "Matter! Have I not
told you what is the matter? The fish!"

"Yes, but a few fish," said Jean, eyeing the other in a half puzzled
way. "What are a few fish that you--"

"You do not understand!"--Papa Fregeau was still dancing up and down as
he kept step with Jean, who had now started on again toward the Bas
Rhone. "Listen! They are Americans of Paris, they say! They arrive
in an automobile this afternoon--mademoiselle and her father, the maid
and the chauffeur. It is fine, they stop at the Bas Rhone and engage
rooms. Excellent! Nothing could be better. There is profit in that.
I carry the trunks, the valises, a multitude of effects that are
strapped all over the automobile to the rooms, and am on the point of
sending for Mother Fregeau at Marie-Louise's. _Sapristi_--I do not
pretend to be a cook! They start o