n, and looked at him steadily. His voice was a very
pleasant one, full of tones that went straight to my heart and filled me
with confidence. His face did not give the lie to it, or cause me any
disappointment. He was no gentleman, that was plain; his face was
bronzed and weather-beaten, as if he often encountered rough weather.
But his deep-set eyes had a steadfast, quiet power in them, and his
mouth, although it was almost hidden by hair, had a pleasant curve about
it. I could not guess how old he was; he looked a middle-aged man to me.
His great, rough hands, which had never worn gloves, were stained and
hard with labor; and he had evidently been taking a share in the toil of
the night, for his close-fitting, woven blue jacket was wet through, and
his hair was damp and rough with the wind and rain. He raised his cap as
my eyes looked straight into his, and a faint smile flitted across his
grave face.

"I want," I said, suddenly, "to find a place where I can live very
cheaply. I have not much money, and I must make it last a long time. I
do not mind how quiet the place, or how poor; the quieter the better for
me. Can you tell me of such a place?"

"You would want a place fit for a lady?" he said, in a half-questioning
tone, and with a glance at my silk dress.

"No," I answered, eagerly. "I mean such a cottage as you would live in.
I would do all my own work, for I am very poor, and I do not know yet
how I can get my living. I must be very careful of my money till I find
out what I can do. What sort of a place do you and your wife live in?"

His face was clouded a little, I thought; and he did not answer me till
after a short silence.

"My poor little wife is dead," he answered, "and I do not live in
Guernsey or Jersey. We live in Sark, my mother and I. I am a fisherman,
but I have also a little farm, for with us the land goes from the father
to the eldest son, and I was the eldest. It is true we have one room to
spare, which might do for mam'zelle; but the island is far away, and
very _triste_. Jersey is gay, and so is Guernsey, but in the winter Sark
is too mournful."

"It will be just the place I want," I said, eagerly; "it would suit me
exactly. Can you let me go there at once? Will you take me with you?"

"Mam'zelle," he replied, smiling, "the room must be made ready for you,
and I must speak to my mother. Besides, Sark is six miles from Guernsey,
and to-day the passage would be too rough for you. If God se