tell thee! _Maman_
has said I must never look at thee. Thou shalt not carry me any
farther."

There was strength enough in the child and her vehement struggles to
free herself to hinder Michel in his desperate haste. He was obliged to
stand still for a minute or two to pacify her, speaking in his quiet,
patient voice, which she knew so well.

"Be tranquil, my little Phine," he said. "I am come to save thee. As the
Lord Jesus came to seek and to save those who are lost, so am I come to
seek thee and carry thee back to thy mother. It is dark here, my child,
and the sea is rising quickly, quickly. But thou shalt be safe. Be
tranquil, and let me make haste back to the Mont."

"Did the Lord save thee in this manner?" asked Delphine, eagerly.

"Yes, He saved me like this," answered Michel. "He laid down His life
for mine. Now thou must let me save thee."

"I will be good and wise," said the child, putting her arms again about
his neck, while he strode on, striving if possible to regain the few
moments that had been lost. But it was not possible. He knew that before
he had gone another kilometre, when through the mist there rose before
him the dark, colossal form of the Mont, but too far away still for them
both to reach it in safety. Thirty minutes were essential for him to
reach the gates with his burden, but in little more than twenty the sea
would be dashing round the walls. The tide was yet out of sight and
the sands were dry, but it would rush in before many minutes, and the
swiftest runner with no weight to carry could not outrun it. Both could
not be saved; could either of them? He had foreseen this danger and
provided for it.

"My little Phine," he said, "thou wilt not be afraid if I place thee
where thou wilt be quite safe from the sea? See, here is my net! I will
put thee within it, and hang it on one of these strong stakes, and I
will stand below thee. Thou wilt be brave and good. Let us be quick,
very quick. It will be like a swing for thee, and thou wilt not be
afraid so long as I stand below thee."

Even while he spoke he was busy fastening the corners of his net
securely over the stake, hanging it above the reach of the last
tide-mark. Delphine watched him laughing. It seemed only another
pleasant adventure, like wandering with him upon the ramparts, or taking
shelter in the turret. The net held her comfortably, and by stooping
down she could touch with her outstretched hand the head of Michel.
He stoo