ore ragged
Jacqueline housed in such an anciently respectable structure, and I
said so to the girl beside me.

"The house is bare as the bones of Sainte-Anne," she said. "There is
nothing within--not even crumbs enough for the cliff-rats, they say."

So I went away across the foggy, soaking moorland, carrying my gun and
satchel in their cases, descended the grassy cleft, entered a
cattle-path, and picked my way across the wet, black rocks toward the
abode of the poacher.

The Lizard was standing on his doorsill when I came up; he returned my
greeting sullenly, his keen eyes of a sea-bird roving over me from
head to foot. A rumpled and sulky yellow cat, evidently just awake,
sat on the doorstep beside him and yawned at intervals. The pair
looked as though they had made a night of it.

"You took my letter last night?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Was there an answer for me?"

"Yes."

"Couldn't you have come to the camp and told me?"

"I could, but I had other matters to concern me," he replied.
"Here's your letter," and he fished it out of his tattered pocket.

I was angry enough, but I did not wish to anger him at that moment. So
I took the letter and read it--a formal line saying the Countess de
Vassart would expect me at five that afternoon.

"You are not noted for your courtesy, are you?" I inquired, smiling.

Something resembling a grin touched his sea-scarred visage.

"Oh, I knew you'd come for your answer," he said, coolly.

"Look here, Lizard," I said, "I intend to be friends with you, and I
mean to make you look on me as a friend. It's to my advantage and to
yours."

"To mine?" he inquired, sneeringly, amused.

"And this is the first thing I want," I continued; and without
further preface I unfolded our plans concerning Jacqueline.

"Entendu," he said, drawling the word, "is that all?"

"Do you consent?"

"Is that all?" he repeated, with Breton obstinacy.

"No, not all. I want you to be my messenger in time of need. I want
you to be absolutely faithful to me."

"Is that all?" he drawled again.

"Yes, that is all."

"And what is there in this, to my advantage, m'sieu?"

"This, for one thing," I said, carelessly, picking up my gun-case. I
slowly drew out the barrels of Damascus, then the rose-wood stock and
fore-end, assembling them lovingly; for it was the finest weapon I had
ever seen, and it was breaking my heart to give it away.

The poacher's eyes began to glitter as I fitted the double