her lawful third in cash, she could do what she chose with
it. It was therefore distinctly to her own interest to fall in with his
plan.

But, dearly as she would have liked to make some provision, however
small, for Nance and Bernel, her whole Sark soul was up in arms against
the idea of selling the farm.

It would feel like a break-up of life. Nothing, she was sure, would ever
be the same again.

"It's not right," she said simply.

"You're a fool--" and then the look on her quiet face--such a look as
she might have worn if he had struck her--penetrated the storm-cloud of
his anger. He remembered her years of wifely patience and faithful
service, "--a foolish woman. A Sark wife should know which side of her
bread the butter is on. Can't you see--"

"I know all that, Tom, but I hope you'll give up this notion of selling
the farm. Your mother feels just as I do about it. We've talked it
over--"

"I'll talk to her," and he went in at once to the old lady's room.

But Grannie gave him no time for argument.

"It's you's the fool, Tom," she said decisively, as he crossed the
threshold. "There's not enough silver in Sark to make a plate for your
coffin."

"I brought out more'n enough to make your plate and mine, myself
to-day," he said triumphantly.

"Ah, bah! You'd have done better for yourself and for Sark if you'd let
it lie."

"I'd have done better still if I'd got twice as much."

"If the good God set silver inside Sark, it was because He thought it
was the best place for it, and it's not for the likes of you to be
trying to get it out."

"What's it there for if it's not to be got out?"

"You mark me, Tom Hamon, no good will come of all this upsetting and
digging out the insides of the Island--nenni-gia!"

"Pergui, mother, where do you think all the silver and gold in the world
came from?"

"It didn't come out of our Sark rocks any way, mon gars."

"Good thing for us if it had, ma fe! But, see you here, mother, if I
sell the farm it's not you and Nance that need trouble. If I pay out
your dowers in hard cash you're both of you better off than you are now,
and I'm better off too. It's only Tom could complain, and--"

"It's hard on the lad."

"Bidemme, it's no more than he deserves for his goings-on! Maybe it'll
do him good to have to work for his living."

"And you would do that to get your bit more money to throw into those
big holes?"

"Never you mind me. I'll take care of myself, and we'll