elt in her arms
round my neck, were with me still as we ran past Brecqhou, and I stood with
an arm round the mast looking eagerly for possible, but unlikely, sight of
Carette.

We were too low down to see the house, which lay in a hollow. The white
waves were ripping like comets along the fringe of ragged rocks under the
great granite cliffs, and our boat reeled and plunged under the strong west
wind, and sent the foam flying in sheets as we tacked against the cross
seas.

We were running a short slant past Moie Batarde, before taking a long one
for the Grands Bouillons, when a flutter of white among the wild black
rocks of the point by the Creux a Vaches caught my eye, and surely it was
Carette herself, though whether she had known of our passage, or was in the
habit of frequenting that place, I could not tell. I took it to myself,
however, and waved a hearty greeting, and the last sight I had of her, and
could not possibly have had a better, was her hand waving farewells in a
way that held much comfort for me for many a day to come. I had told my
grandfather about Torode's fine schooner, and had enlarged so upon it that
he had a wish to see her for himself, and so we were making for the passage
between Herm and Jethou, which I had travelled two days before. He knew the
way and the traps and pitfalls better even than I did, and ran us in up the
wind with a steady hand till the roadstead opened before us. But it was
empty. Torode was off after plunder, and we turned and ran for Peter Port.
We found John Ozanne as busy as a big bumble-bee, but he made time to greet
my grandfather very jovially, and showed him all over his little ship with
much pride. He was in high spirits and anxious to be off, especially since
he had heard of Torode's going.

"He's about as clever as men are made," he said, "and when he goes he goes
on business, so it's time for us to be on the move too. We'll make a man of
your boy, Philip."

"A privateer!" said my grandfather with a smile.

"Ay, well! I can believe it's not all to your liking, but it's natural
after all."

"I'm not complaining."

"I never heard you. But you'd have been better pleased if he hadn't wanted
so much."

"Maybe," said my grandfather with his quiet smile. "But, as Jeanne Falla
says, 'Young calves'--"

"I know, I know," laughed John Ozanne. "She's a famous wise woman is Jeanne
Falla, and many a licking she gave me when I was a boy for stealing her
apples round the