befriend thee well if thou
wert my wife, Ma'm'selle."

"It is hard for those who need friends to lose them," she answered
sadly.

The sorrow of her position crept in upon her and filled her eyes with
tears. She turned them to the sea-instinctively towards that point on
the shore where she thought it likely Michel might be; as though by
looking she might find comfort and support in this hard hour.

Even as she gazed into the soft afternoon light she could see, far over,
a little sail standing out towards the Ecrehos. Not once in six months
might the coast of France be seen so clearly. One might almost have
noted people walking on the beach. This was no good token, for when that
coast may be seen with great distinctness a storm follows hard after.
The girl knew this; and though she could not know that this was Michel
de la Foret's boat, the possibility fixed itself in her mind. She
quickly scanned the horizon. Yes, there in the north-west was gathering
a dark-blue haze, hanging like small filmy curtains in the sky.

The Seigneur of Rozel presently broke the silence so awkward for him. He
had seen the tears in her eyes, and though he could not guess the cause,
he vaguely thought it might be due to his announcement that she had
lost a friend. He was magnanimous at once, and he meant what he said and
would stand by it through thick and thin.

"Well, well, I'll be thy everlasting friend if not thy husband," he said
with ornate generosity. "Cheer thy heart, lady."

With a sudden impulse she seized his hand and kissed it, and, turning,
ran swiftly down the rocks towards her home.

He stood and looked after her, then, dumfounded, at the hand she had
kissed.

"Blood of my heart!" he said, and shook his head in utter amazement.

Then he turned and looked out upon the Channel. He saw the little boat
Angele had descried making from France. Glancing at the sky, "What fools
come there!" he said anxiously.

They were Michel de la Foret and Buonespoir the pirate, in a
black-bellied cutter with red sails.

CHAPTER III

For weeks De la Foret and Buonespoir had lain in hiding at St. Brieuc.
At last Buonespoir declared all was ready once again. He had secured for
the Camisard the passport and clothes of a priest who had but just died
at Granville. Once again they made the attempt to reach English soil.

Standing out from Carteret on the Belle Suzanne, they steered for the
light upon the Marmotier Rocks of the Ecrehos,