We started at four in the morning, while the gray sky was dappled over with soft clouds, and the sea itself seemed waking up from sleep, as if it too had been slumbering through the night.  The morning mist upon the cliffs made them look mysterious, as if they had some secrets to conceal.  Untrodden tracks climbed the surface of the rocks, and were lost in the fine filmy haze.  The water looked white and milky, with lines across it like the tracks on the cliffs, which no human foot could tread; and the tide was coming back to the shore with a low, tranquil, yet sad moan.  The sea-gulls skimmed past us with their white wings, almost touching us; their plaintive wailing seeming to warn us of the treachery and sorrow of the sea.  I was not afraid of the treachery of the sea, yet I could not bear to hear them, nor could Tardif.

We landed at one of the stone staircases running up the side of the pier at Guernsey; for we were only just in time for the steamer.  The steps were slimy and wet with seaweed, but Tardif’s hand grasped mine firmly.  He pushed his way through the crowd of idlers who were watching the lading of the cargo, and took me down immediately into the cabin.

“Good-by, mam’zelle,” he said; “I must leave you.  Send for me, or come to me, if you are in trouble and I can do any thing for you.  If it were to Australia, I would follow you.  I know I am only fit to be your servant, but all the same I am your friend.  You have a little regard for me, mam’zelle?”

“O Tardif!” I sobbed, “I love you very dearly.”

“Now that makes me glad,” he said, holding my hand between his, and looking down at me with tears in his eyes; “you said that from your good heart, mam’zelle.  When I am out alone in my boat, I shall think of it, and in the long winter nights by the fire, when there is no little mam’zelle to come and talk to me, I shall say to myself, ’She loves you very dearly.’  Good-by, mam’zelle.  God be with you and protect you!”

“Good-by,” I said, with a sore grief in my heart, “good-by, Tardif.  It is very dreadful to be alone again.”

There was no time to say more, for a bell rang loudly on deck, and we heard the cry, “All friends on shore!” Tardif put his lips to my hand, and left me.  I was indeed alone.

CHAPTER THE THIRD.

IN LONDON LODGINGS.

Once more I found myself in London, a city so strange to me that I did not know the name of any street in it.  I had more acquaintance with almost every great city on the Continent.  Fortunately, Tardif had given me the address of a boarding-house, or rather a small family hotel, where he had stayed two or three times, and I drove there at once.  It was in a quiet back street, within sound of St. Paul’s clock.  The hour was so late, nearly midnight, that I was looked upon with suspicion, as a young woman travelling alone, and with little luggage.  It was only when I mentioned Tardif, whose island bearing had made him noticeable among the stream of strangers passing through the house, that the mistress of the place consented to take me in.