was down at the water's edge, mending his boat, which lay with its
keel upward. He heard my footsteps among the pebbles, and turned round
to greet me with one of his grave smiles, which had never failed me
whenever I went to him.

"Mam'zelle is triste," he said; "is there any thing I can do for you?"

"I must go away from here, Tardif," I answered, with a choking voice.

A change swept quickly across his face, but he passed his hand for a
moment over it, and then regarded me again with his grave smile.

"For what reason, mam'zelle?" he asked.

"Oh! I must tell you every thing!" I cried.

"Tell me every thing," he repeated; "it shall be buried here, in my
heart, as if it was buried in the depths of the sea. I will try not to
think of it even, if you bid me. I am your friend as well as your
servant."

Then leaning against his boat, for I could not control my trembling, I
told him almost all about my wretched life, from which God had delivered
me, leading me to him for shelter and comfort. He listened with his eyes
cast down, never once raising them to my face, and in perfect silence,
except that once or twice he groaned within himself, and clinched his
hard hands together. I know that I could never have told my history to
any other man as I told it to him, a homely peasant and fisherman, but
with as noble and gentle a heart as ever beat.

"You must go," he said, when I had finished. His voice was hollow and
broken, but the words were spoken distinctly enough for me to hear them.

"Yes, there is no help for me," I answered; "there is no rest for me but
death."

"It would be better to die," he said, solemnly, "than return to a life
like that. I would sooner bury you up yonder, in our little graveyard,
than give you up to your husband."

"You will help me to get away at once?" I asked.

"At once," he repeated, in the same broken voice. His face looked gray,
and his mouth twitched. He leaned against his boat, as if he could
hardly stand; as I was doing myself, for I felt utterly weak and shaken.

"How soon?" I asked.

"To-morrow I will row you to Guernsey in time for the packet to
England," he answered. Mon Dieu! how little I thought what I was mending
my boat for! Mam'zelle, is there nothing, nothing in the world I can do
for you?"

"Nothing, Tardif," I said, sorrowfully.

"Nothing!" he assented, dropping his head down upon his hands. No, there
was positively nothing he could do for me. There was no perso