I climbed the rocky way hot-foot, and sped down through the furze and golden-rod to the house.  The door was open and I ran in.  A drawn white face, with grizzled hair and drooping white moustache, and two dark eyes like smouldering fires, jerked feebly up out of a bunk at the far end, and then sank down again.  It was Jean Le Marchant.

There was no sign of disorder in the room.  In the next bunk another man lay apparently asleep.

“Where is Carette?” I asked hastily, but not without hope, from the lack of signs of disturbance.

“Where is she?” he asked feebly, with a touch of impatience.

“Is she not here?”

“She went out.  I thought I heard a shot.  Where is she?”

“I will go and see,” and I ran out again, still not unhopeful.  It might be that Krok had seen Torode’s ship and his fears for Carette had magnified matters.

I searched quickly all round the house.  I cried “Carette!  Carette!” But only a wheeling gull squawked mockingly in reply.  Then I ran along the trodden way to their landing-place.  There was a boat lying there with its nose on the shore,—­no sign of outrage anywhere.  Could Krok be mistaken?  Could Carette just have rowed over to Havre Gosselin for something she was in need of?

I went down to the boat, doubtful of my next move.

In the boat that nosed the shore lay Helier Le Marchant, my comrade in prison, in escape, in many perils, with a bullet-hole in his forehead—­dead.  And I knew that Krok was right and my worst fears were justified.

Torode had landed, had caught Carette abroad, in carrying her off they had met Le Marchant hastening to her assistance, and had slain him,—­the foul cowards that they were.

There was nothing I could do for him.  I lifted him gently out onto the shingle, and turned to and pulled out of the harbour.  Others, I knew, would soon be across to Brecqhou, and would see to him and the rest.  My work lay on Herm, and as like as not might end there, for death as sudden and certain as Helier Le Marchant’s awaited me if Torode set eyes on me, and that I knew full well.

Had my brain been working quietly I should probably have doubted the wisdom of crossing to Herm in daylight.  But all my thoughts were in a vast confusion, with this one thought only overtopping all the rest,—­Carette was in the hands of Torode, and I must get there as quickly as possible.

There are times when foolish recklessness drives headlong through the obstacles which reason would bid one avoid, and so come desperate deeds accomplished while reason sits pondering the way.

I have since thought that the only possible reason why I succeeded in crossing unseen was that the boiling anxiety within drove me to the venture at once.  I followed so closely on their track that they had not yet had time to take precautions, which presently they did.  But at the time my one and only thought—­the spring and spur of all my endeavour—­was this,—­Carette was on Herm and I must get there too.