I went on in a hot rage, shapeless and wordless, but smouldering like a fire within me.  The cool, green lane, deep between hedge-rows, the banks of which were gemmed with primroses, had no effect upon me just then.  Tardif marry Olivia!  That was an absurd, preposterous notion indeed.  It required all my knowledge of the influence of dress on the average human mind, to convince myself that Olivia, in her coarse green serge dress, had impressed the people of Sark with the notion that she would be no unsuitable mate for their rough, though good and handsome fisherman.

Was it possible that they thought her stupid?  Reserved and silent she might be, as she wished to remain unmolested and concealed; but not stupid!  That any one should dream so wildly as to think of Olivia marrying Tardif, was the utmost folly I could imagine.

I had half an hour to wait in the little harbor, its great cliffs rising all about me, with only a tunnel bored through them to form an entrance to the green island within.  My rage had partly fumed itself away before the yacht came in sight.

CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH.

OVERHEAD IN LOVE.

Awfully fast the time sped away.  It was the second week in March I passed in Sark; the second week in May came upon me as if borne by a whirlwind.  It was only a month to the day so long fixed upon for our marriage.  My mother began to fidget about my going over to London to pay my farewell bachelor visit to Jack Senior, and to fit myself out with wedding toggery.  Julia’s was going on fast to completion.  Our trip to Switzerland was distinctly planned out, almost from day to day.  Go I must to London; order my wedding-suit I must.

But first there could be no harm in running over to Sark to see Olivia once more.  As soon as I was married I would tell Julia all about her.  But if either arm or ankle went wrong for want of attention, I should never forgive myself.

“When shall we have another run together, Captain Carey?” I asked.

“Any day you like, my boy,” he answered; “your days of liberty are growing few and short now, eh?  I’ve never had a chance of trying it myself, Martin, but they are nervous times, I should think.  Cruising in doubtful channels, eh? with uncertain breezes?  How does Julia keep up?”

“I can spare to-morrow,” I replied, ignoring his remarks; “on Saturday I shall cross over to England to see Jack Senior.”

“And bid him adieu?” he said, laughing, “or give him an invitation to your own house?  I shall be glad to see you in a house of your own.  Your father is too young a man for you.”

“Can you take me to Sark to-morrow?” I asked.

“To be sure I can,” he answered.

It was the last time I could see Olivia before my marriage.  Afterward I should see much of her; for Julia would invite her to our house, and be a friend to her.  I spent a wretchedly sleepless night; and whenever I dozed by fits and starts, I saw Olivia before me, weeping bitterly, and refusing to be comforted.