From St. Sampson’s we set sail straight for the Havre Gosselin, without a word upon my part; and the wind being in our favor, we were not long in crossing the channel.  To my extreme surprise and chagrin, Captain Carey announced his intention of landing with me, and leaving the yacht in charge of his men to await our return.

“The ladder is excessively awkward,” I objected, “and some of the rungs are loose.  You don’t mind running the risk of a plunge into the water?”

“Not in the least,” he answered, cheerily; “for the matter of that, I plunge into it every morning at L’Ancresse.  I want to see Tardif.  He is one in a thousand, as you say; and one cannot see such a man every day of one’s life.”

There was no help for it, and I gave in, hoping some good luck awaited me.  I led the way up the zigzag path, and just as we reached the top I saw the slight, erect figure of Olivia seated upon the brow of a little grassy knoll at a short distance from us.  Her back was toward us, so she was not aware of our vicinity; and I pointed toward her with an assumed air of indifference.

“I believe that is my patient yonder,” I said; “I will just run across and speak to her, and then follow you to the farm.”

“Ah!” he exclaimed, “there is a lovely view from that spot.  I recollect it well.  I will go with you, Martin.  There will be time enough to see Tardif.”

Did Captain Carey suspect any thing?  Or what reason could he have for wishing to see Olivia?  Could it be merely that he wanted to see the view from that particular spot?  I could not forbid him accompanying me, but I wished him at Jericho.

What is more stupid than to have an elderly man dogging one’s footsteps?

I trusted devoutly that we should see or hear Tardif before reaching the knoll; but no such good fortune befell me.  Olivia did not hear our footsteps upon the soft turf, though we approached her very nearly.  The sun shone upon her glossy hair, every thread of which seemed to shine back again.  She was reading aloud, apparently to herself, and the sounds of her sweet voice were wafted by the air toward us.  Captain Carey’s face became very thoughtful.

A few steps nearer brought us in view of Tardif, who had spread his nets on the grass, and was examining them narrowly for rents.  Just at this moment he was down on his knees, not far from Olivia, gathering some broken meshes together, but listening to her, with an expression of huge contentment upon his handsome face.  A bitter pang shot through me.  Could it be true by any possibility—­that lie I had heard the last time I was in Sark?

“Good-day, Tardif,” shouted Captain Carey; and both Tardif and Olivia started.  But both of their faces grew brighter at seeing us, and both sprang up to give us welcome.  Olivia’s color had come back to her cheeks, and a sweeter face no man ever looked upon.

“I am very glad you are come once more,” she said, putting her hand in mine; “you told me in your last letter you were going to England, and might not come over to Sark before next autumn.  How glad I am to see you again!”