home was
on the eastern side, and he could see nothing of it. But the great rock
rose up precipitously above him, and the noble architecture upon its
highest point glowed with a ruddy tint in the setting light. As he
trampled along no sound could be heard but the distant sigh of the sea,
and the low, sad sough of the sand as his bare feet trod it. The fog
before him was not dense, only a light haze, deceptive and beguiling;
for here and there he turned aside, fancying he could see Delphine, but
as he drew nearer to the spot he discovered nothing but a post driven
into the sand. There was no fear that he should lose himself upon the
bewildering level, for he knew his way as well as if the sand had been
laid out in well-defined tracks. His dread was lest he should not
find Delphine soon enough to escape from the tide, which would surely
overwhelm them both.

He scarcely knew how the time sped by, but the sun had sunk below the
horizon, and he had quite lost the Mont in the fog. The brown sand and
the gray dank mist were all that he could see, yet still he plodded on
westward, toward the sea, calling into the growing darkness. At last he
caught the sound of a child's sobs and crying, which ceased for a moment
when he turned in that direction and shouted, "Phine!" Calling to one
another, it was not long before he saw the child wandering forlornly and
desolately in the mist. She ran sobbing into his open arms, and Michel
lifted her up and held her to his heart with a strange rapture.

"It is thou that hast found me," she said, clinging closely to him.
"Carry me back to my mother. I am safe now, quite safe. Did the
archangel St. Michel send thee?"

There was not a moment to be lost; Michel knew that full well. The moan
of the sea was growing louder every minute, though he could not see
its advancing line. There was no spot upon the sand that would not be
covered before another hour was gone, and there was barely time, if
enough, to get back to the Mont. He could not waste time or breath in
talking to the child he held fast in his arms. A pale gleam of moonlight
shone through the vapour, but of little use to him save to throw a
ghostly glimmer across the sands. He strode hurriedly along, breathing
hardly through his teeth and clasping Delphine so fast that she grew
frightened at his silence and haste.

"Where art thou taking me, Michel _le diable_?" she said, beginning to
struggle in his arms. "Let me down; let me down, I