Where Deep Seas Moan

ten o'clock when he reached home. His mother had gone to bed, but not before she had prepared her son's supper and left the little kitchen the picture of comfort. After his meal, Perrin turned the

joy. He tried to picture to-morrow. Ellenor, in the white gown she had described to him, would stand before the altar,

his mother as the only guest of the Cartiers. He pictured the moment when he would s

eproach her if she seemed to fret after Dominic. She could not uproot, all at once, such a deep love. He would lead her gently back to the ways of religion which she had deserted. He would remind her, one quiet evening, that she was of those who were admitted to The Holy Supper of the Lord

he morrow, his wedding day. For a moment, the wind had cea

dreams scattered. He listened, breathless, his island blood frozen,

window; and this time, a fami

bet, quick, I b

tood in the kitchen a

She hasn't been home sin

ur left Perrin

t seen her! What, the

our after hour, when the snow was thick and the wind howled over the moorland, she had been anxiously looked for; how, at last, in de

aking his mother, told her the story

er here, mother. She's a poor creature, and she can't be

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

an 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 Guernsey. Finally Jea

as the last day of the Old Year. The cold and the snow disappeared, and the weather was mild and calm as Perrin rowed homewards about four o'clock in the afternoon. He had been to pull up his lobster pots which had been put down not far from Lihou island. Buri

into a tiny creek, moored it and scr

readfully, dreadfully ill. If she gets well, the doctor says it will be a miracle. But even he is af

now placed herself behind a boulder. Over it

t till I saw you just now in your boat, I didn't even feel so

e roses, all wet and spoilt, in a hedge close to Rocquaine Bay; and, ah, how we feared, your father and me ...

e doctor he must come again. I've given her all the medicine he left. It would be no use for me t

I'll go for all you want. But, quic

r weeping. And Perrin could not clasp her in his arms.

lieve he loves me true, whatever happens! But, just as I said I'd go back with him, I thought of Blaisette, her that I hated and yet her that I pitied. And I asked him who was with her on lonely Lihou Isle. Him, he only laughed, and said she was all right; he'd be back before midnight. But there wasn't a soul in Guernsey would

" Perrin cried, stretching out elo

poor Blaisette. I threw away the roses for my wedding bonnet. I got to the beach before the tide was quite down. The sea was black. The sky was black. Just here and there was a dreadful line

round hi

! He's not fit f

w a lon

u. I climbed the beach, ran across the grass, and, pushing open a door in the wall of the garden-we all know the farm well, eh, Perrin? I went up the steps to the house. I opened the door. The house was like ice. In the kitchen was a poor little bit of fire. I made it up; and then I tried to get c

and you love t

r face for

poor Blaisette. For a minute she knew me and she

me back at

t the stables, and come into the kitchen to get his meals once or twice; and he is drinking, drinking all the time. I can see he is afraid of the small-pox, and

possible a woman could love, actual

I'll go back to tell my mother I am coming here to look after you twice a day, perhaps more, and I'll give him a piece of my mind. My mother will go to Les Casq

Blaisette has the small-pox. It was me that went to the witch to Saint Pierre Port to cast a spell on my rival the

r sickness. You remember she came the wrong way to church on her wedding day? Ah, we

t Le Mierre, and the coward and scoundrel tried to hold his own. But Perrin's threats of appeal to the Royal Court awed him into a promise to give out money to pay for the expenses of his wife's illness. Corbet, himself utterly fearless of disease, frightened the drun

offin was lowered into the grave. No messenger, mounted on a black horse, bore the news of her death from house to house, up and down the two parishes. Only a poor fisherman repeated the sad tidings as he trudged, first to Colomberie Farm and then to Orvillière, where Dominic's aunt kept house in state wh

r the poor little woman so soon to be left alone in t

r across to the main island, as soon as she was able. His mother had returned to her home, and Jean and poor weak Mrs. Cartier prepared to nurse their