treak's growing a fat one, I can
tell you. He's got the finest schooner in these waters, and, ma fe, broth
and soup are both alike to him, I trow! Oh yes, he can see through a fog,
can Monsieur Torode."

"And what does Peter Port say to it all?"

"Pergui! Peter Port didn't like having its bread taken out of its
mouth,--not that it's bread contents Monsieur Torode, not by a very long
way. Fine doings there are on Herm, they say, when they're all at home
there. But he's too big and bold a man to interfere with. He pays for the
island, they say, and a good price too. Some say he's a wealthy emigre
turning his talents to account. For myself--" and the black sun-bonnet
nodded knowingly.

"You don't care for him over much, Aunt Jeanne?" and I felt unreasonably
glad that it was so.

"Ma fe, I've never set eyes on the man and never wish to! But such luck is
not too natural, you understand. The devil's flour has a way of turning to
bran, and what comes with the flood goes out with the ebb sometimes."

"All the same you invite the young one here."

"The door of Beaumanoir is wide to-night, and everyone who chooses to come
is welcome. Though I wouldn't say but what some are more welcome than
others.... Brecqhou and Herm have dealings together, you understand," she
murmured presently. "That is how this youngster finds himself here--Bernel,
they call him. The old one is much away and the young one does his business
hereabouts. And see the airs he puts on! One would think the Island
belonged to him, and he hasn't had the grace to come and say how d'ye do to
me yet. For myself--"

"For yourself, Aunt Jeanne?"

"Eh b'en!" with a twinkle. "One likes one's own calves best, oui gia!" and
I felt like kissing the little old brown hand.

Young Torode had joined the others, and was laughing and joking with the
girls, though it seemed to me that the men received him somewhat coldly.
Then some remark among them directed his attention to Jeanne Falla and
myself in the corner behind the dresser, and he came over at once.

"Pardon, Mistress Falla!" he said,--I think I have said before that Aunt
Jeanne was more generally called by her maiden name of Falla than by her
married one of Le Marchant, and she preferred it so,--"I was wondering
where you were. You have given us a most charming surprise,"--with a nod
towards the flower-decked green-bed. "But why is the goddess condemned to
silence?"

"Because it's the rule. And, ma fe, it is go