of
carpenters at their work, and confused outlines of figures passing to
and fro; and he could distinguish the loud and cheery voice of Mess
Lethierry giving orders.

He threaded the narrow alleys behind the Bravees. There was no one there
beside him. All curiosity was concentrated on the front of the house. He
chose the footpath alongside the low wall of the garden, but stopped at
the angle where the wild mallow grew. He saw once more the stone where
he used to pass his time; saw once more the wooden garden seat where
Deruchette was accustomed to sit, and glanced again at the pathway of
the alley where he had seen the embrace of two shadows which had
vanished.

He soon went on his way, climbed the hill of Vale Castle, descended
again, and directed his steps towards the Bu de la Rue.

The Houmet-Paradis was a solitude.

His house was in the same state in which he had left it in the morning,
after dressing himself to go to St. Peter's Port.

A window was open, through which his bagpipe might have been seen
hanging to a nail upon the wall.

Upon the table was the little Bible given to him in token of gratitude
by the stranger whom he now knew as Caudray.

The key was in the door. He approached; placed his hand upon it; turned
it twice in the lock, put the key in his pocket, and departed.

He walked not in the direction of the town, but towards the sea.

He traversed his garden diagonally, taking the shortest way without
regard to the beds, but taking care not to tread upon the plants which
he placed there, because he had heard that they were favourites with
Deruchette.

He crossed the parapet wall, and let himself down upon the rocks.

Going straight on, he began to follow the long ridge of rocks which
connected the Bu de la Rue with the great natural obelisk of granite
rising erect from the sea, which was known as the Beast's Horn. This was
the place of the Gild-Holm-'Ur seat.

He strode on from block to block like a giant among mountains. To make
long strides upon a row of breakers is like walking upon the ridge of a
roof.

A fisherwoman with dredge-nets, who had been walking naked-footed among
the pools of sea-water at some distance, and had just regained the
shore, called to him, "Take care; the tide is coming." But he held on
his way.

Having arrived at the great rock of the point, the Horn, which rises
like a pinnacle from the sea, he stopped. It was the extremity of the
promontory.

He looked a