had jumped down to back him up.

"Well--? Want any more?" asked Gard stormily.

"You wait," growled Tom, nursing his jaw, "I'll talk to you one of these
days."

"Whenever you like, you cur. What you need is a sound thrashing and a
kick over the Coupee."

To his surprise none of the others joined in. But he did not know them.

They might guffaw at Tom's unseemly pleasantries, but they held him in
no high esteem--either for himself or for his position, since word of
the sale of La Closerie had got about.

Then they were a hardy crew and held personal courage and prowess in
high respect. And in this matter there could be no possible doubt as to
where the credit lay.

"Goin' to fight him, Tom?" drawled one, in the patois.

"---- him!" growled Tom, but made no move that way.

And Gard turned and went over to Nance and Bernel, who were sheltering
from the storm in lee of one of the cottages.

If he could have seen it, there was a warmer feeling in her heart for
him than had ever been there before--a novel feeling, too, of respect
and confidence such as she had never entertained towards any other man
in all her life.

For that quick blow had been struck on her behalf, she knew; and it was
vastly strange, and somehow good, to feel that a great strong man was
ready to stand up for her and, if necessary, to fight for her.

She pressed silently on against the gale, with an odd little glow in her
heart, and a feeling as though something new had suddenly come into her
life.

The gale caught them at the Coupee, and the crossing seemed to Gard not
without its risks.

Bernel bent and ran on through the darkness without a thought of danger.

Gard hesitated one moment and Nance stretched a hand to him, and he took
it and went steadily across.

And, oh, the thrill of that first living touch of her! The feel of the
warm nervous little hand sent a tingling glow through him such as he had
never in his life experienced before. Verily, a white-stone day this, in
spite of winds and darkness!

The gale howled like ten thousand demons, and the noise of the waves in
Grande Greve came up to them in a ceaseless savage roar. Gard confessed
to himself that, alone, he would never have dared to face that perilous
storm-swept bridge. But the small hand of a girl made all the difference
and he stepped alongside her without a tremor.

"B'en, Monsieur Gard, was I right?" shouted Bernel in his ear, as they
stepped within the shelter o