n swung lazily in the
breeze.

And then, of a sudden, a shot rang out, and a bullet flew past my head, and
cut my whistling short.

"What fool's that?" I shouted at the smoke that floated out from behind a
lump of rock in front, and a young man got up lazily from behind it, and
stood looking at me as he rammed home another charge.

"You'll be hurting someone if you don't take care," I said.

"I do when I care to. That was only a hint. Who are you, and what do you
want here?"

"I'm Phil Carre, of Belfontaine. I want to see Monsieur Le Marchant--and
Ma'm'zelle Carette."

"Oh, you do, do you? And what do you want with them?"

"I'll tell them when I see them. Do you always wish your friends
good-morning with a musket on Brecqhou?"

"Our friends don't come till they're asked."

"Then you don't have many visitors, I should say."

"All we want," was the curt reply.

He was a tall, well-built fellow, some years older than myself,
good-looking, as all the Le Marchants were, defiant of face and careless in
manner. He looked, in fact, as though it would not have troubled him in the
least if his bullet had gone through my head.

He had finished loading his gun, and stood blocking the way, with no
intention of letting me pass. And how long we might have stood there I do
not know, when I saw another head bobbing along among the golden-rod, and
another of the brothers came up and stood beside him.

"What is it, then, Martin? Who is he?" he asked, staring at me.

"Says he's Phil Carre, of Belfontaine, but--"

And the other dark face broke into a smile. "Tiens, I remember. You came
across once before--"

"Yes. You had the measles."

"And what brings you this time, Phil Carre?"

"I want to speak with Monsieur Le Marchant."

"And to see Carette, I think you said, Monsieur Phil Carre," said the
other.

"Certainly."

"Come along, then," said Helier, the new-comer. "There is no harm in Phil
Carre. You have not by any chance gone into the preventive service,
Monsieur Carre?" he laughed.

"Not quite. I'm off to the privateering. It's that I want to speak to your
father about."

"How then?" he asked with interest, as we walked along towards the great
wooden house in the hollow. "How does it concern him?"

"Torode of Herm is the cleverest privateer round here, they say. I thought
to try with him, and your father knows more about him than anyone else."

"Ah! Torode of Herm! Yes, he is a clever man is Torode. But h