"

"Less than twenty miles.... There soon after midnight.... Steal a boat if
necessary."

We settled down into a steady walk and got our wind back, and my spirits
rose, and hope showed head once more. If we could get across to Sercq
before Torode could lay us by the heels, we would be safe among our own
folks, and, unless I was very much mistaken, he would no more than visit
Herm and away before I could raise Peter Port against him.

Neither of us had travelled that land before, but we knew the direction we
had to take, and the stars kept us to our course.

We pressed on without a halt, for every moment was of importance, and for
the most part we went in silence. For myself, I was already, in my
thoughts, clasping my mother and Carette in my arms once more, and then
speeding across to Peter Port to rouse them there with the news of Torode's
murderous treachery.

Le Marchant was the more practical man of the two. As we passed some
windmills, and came swinging down towards the western coast, soon after
midnight, he gave a cheerful "Hourra!" and in reply to my stare, cried,
"The wind, man! It's as dead as St. Magloire. Monsieur Torode will never
get round La Hague like this."

"It will come again with the sun, maybe," I said.

"Then the quicker we get home the better," and we hurried on.

When we came out at last on the cliffs the sea lay below us as smooth as a
clouded mirror. It would mean a toilsome passage, but toil was nothing
compared with Torode. We walked rapidly along till we came to a village,
which we learned, afterwards, was not Carteret but Surtainville. There were
boats lying on the shore, and we slipped down the cliff before we reached
the first house, and made our way towards them. One of those boats we had
to use if we had to fight for it, but we had no desire to fight, only to
get away at once without dispute and without delay.

We fixed on the one that seemed the least heavy and clumsy, though none
were much to our liking, and while Le Marchant hunted up a pair of spare
oars in case of accident, I found a piece of soft white stone and scrawled
on a board, "Boat will be returned in two days, keep this money for
hire"--and emptied all I possessed onto it. Then we ran the clumsy craft
into the water and settled down to a long seven hours' pull.

But labour was nothing when so much--everything--waited at the other end of
the course. We went to it with a will, and I do not suppose that old boat
had