iscilla. Not a line of news except the first
three words, "All is well." That was assuring, at any rate, and made me
feel happy. Young Johnson was the squire's son, a dashing, go-ahead
fellow, but not greatly liked in the village, by reason of his
haughtiness.
Although I had been looking forward to my return home I would not go to
be laughed at by our Yarmouth friends; no, I would stay at all risks,
and with the one hundred pounds I could make my future bride, Priscilla,
a grand present. Yes, my mind was made up at once, and if the men had
been within hail they might have come back and received my answer to
send over to the St. Peter Port post office, from which the packet would
take it to England, so that in about three or four days my father would
receive it.
My answer was quickly written, for my reply was very laconic:
"_February 28th, 18--._
"MY DEAR FATHER,
"All is well. I accept Johnson's wager of one hundred pounds, that
I do not occupy Jethou for another six months.
"Your affectionate Son,
"HARRY NILFORD."
About noon I espied two men fishing off the nearest point of Herm, and
going to the north-east corner of my island, to the promontory guarding
Lobster Bay, I signalled them with a handkerchief upon an ash sapling.
They soon saw the signal and pulled towards me. As they neared me I was
pleased to find they were the same two men who brought my father's
letter to me in the morning. They came close into the bay, so that I had
only to lean down and drop the letter into the boat, pointing towards
St. Peter Port to signify I wanted it to go there by the first boat
going.
"Oui, tres bien."
Then I dropped half a crown (three francs) into their boat, and away
they pulled, quite pleased. I went about my work, but in about twenty
minutes, looking towards Guernsey, I saw the two men pulling away to St.
Peter Port with my letter. This was more than I expected, as it would
give them a rough pull of six miles. I only meant them to take the
letter to Herm; but away it went, and a day was saved.
Away to my digging. I returned and forgot all about the men and the
letter, but to my astonishment about four hours after, they hailed me,
shouting and gesticulating, "C'est juste," they cried, and then away
they went home, and I saw them no more.
[Illustration: Decorative scroll]
FOOTNOTE:
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