I was also feeling very empty, though with no great appetite for food.  But she insisted on my eating and drinking, and saw to it herself in her sharp, masterful way.

She was tying the sling behind my neck when my grandfather and George Hamon came in together.

Uncle George gave me very hearty greeting, and they complimented Aunt Jeanne on her handiwork, and then asked her advice, and all the while I was in fear lest some incautious word from one or the other should weight Carette’s heart with over-sudden news of her brother’s death.

“Jeanne Falla, we want your views,” said my grandfather.  “It is in my mind that Torode will come back for these two.  Phil holds his life in his hand.  What others know is hearsay, but Phil can swear to it.  I cannot believe he will rest while Phil lives.  He can bring sixty or eighty ruffians down on us, and I doubt if we can put thirty against them.  What does your wit suggest?”

“Ma fe!” said Aunt Jeanne, “you are right.  Torode will be after them, and they are not safe here.  Can you not get them over to Peter Port, or to Jersey?”

“They are watching the ways,” I said, for I was loth to start on any fresh voyaging now that Carette and home were to my hand.  “Their boats were out all night on the look-out.”

“We might get through one way or another, if we started at once,” said my grandfather, looking doubtfully at me.

“I can’t do another thing till I’ve had some rest,” I said.  “It is so long since I slept that I cannot remember when it was;” and indeed, what with want of food, and want of sleep, and loss of blood, now that the excitement was over I was feeling weary unto death.

“Then hide them,” said Aunt Jeanne.  “George Hamon knows hiding-places, I trow,”—­at which Uncle George grinned knowingly.  “And if Torode comes, swear they are safe in Peter Port.  One does not cut gorse without gloves, and lies to such as Torode don’t count.  Bon Gyu, non!”

“That is right,” said Uncle George, “and what I advised myself.  Philip thinks we might hold them at arm’s length, but—­”

“It would mean many lives and to no purpose, may be, in the end,” said Aunt Jeanne, shaking her head.

“I can hide them where none will ever find them,” said Uncle George.

“Ma fe! it does not sound too tempting,” said Carette.

“Since we are together, I am content,” I said; for rest and the assurance of Carette’s safety were the only things I cared about just then.

“Bien!  So am I,” said Carette.  “When will you put us in the hole?”

“At once.  Torode is not the man to waste time when so much is at stake.”

“And how long will you keep us there?” she asked.

“That may depend on Torode,” said Uncle George.  “But no longer than is necessary.”

“Ma fe, it may be days!  We must take food—­”

“There is a pie and a ham, and I made bread and gache to-day,” said Aunt Jeanne, picking up a big basket and beginning to pack it with all she could think of and lay hands on.