on his
part.

Then Nance's face framed in a black sun-bonnet gleamed in at the outer
door.

"Come along, Bern, and we'll go and tell the Seigneur where his white
horse is," and she disappeared, and Bernel, having polished off
everything within reach, got up and followed her.

"Will you please to take a look at the mines to-night?" asked old Tom of
his guest, anxious to interest him in the work as speedily as possible.

"We might take a bit of a walk, and you can tell me all you will about
things. But I don't take hold till the first of the month, and I don't
want to interfere until I have a right to. I suppose my baggage will be
coming up?"

"Ach, yes! Tom, you take the cart and bring Mr. Gard's things up. They
are lying on the quay down there. Then we will go along, if you please!"

Old Tom marched him through the wonderful amber twilight to the summit
of the bluff behind the engine-house--whence Gard could just make out
his box and carpet-bag still lying on the quay below. And all the way
the old man was volubly explaining the many changes necessary, in his
opinion, to bring the business to a paying basis. All which information
Gard accepted for testing purposes, but gathered from the total the fact
that through ill health on the part of the departing captain, the ropes
all round had got slack and that the tightening of them would be a
matter of no little delicacy and difficulty.

Sark men, Mr. Hamon explained, were very free and independent, and hated
to be driven. They did piecework--so much per fathom, and were
constitutionally, he admitted, a bit more particular as to the so much
than as to the fathom. While the Cornish and Welsh men, receiving weekly
wages, had also grown slack and did far less work than they did at first
and than they might, could, and should do.

"But," said old Tom frankly, scratching his head, "I don't know's I'd
like the job myself. Your men are quiet enough to look at, but they can
boil over when they're put to it. And our men--well, they're Sark, and
there's more'n a bit of the devil in them."

"I must get things round bit by bit," said Gard quietly. "It never pays
to make a fuss and bustle men. Softly does it."

"I'm thinking you can do it if any man can."

"I'll have a good try any way."

"Whereabouts does the Seigneur live?" he asked presently, and
inconsequently as it seemed, but following out a train of thought of his
own which needed no guessing at.

"The Seigneur?