Andrew was very serious indeed now.

“I will go up to the Hall at once,” he said, “and I will see Mr. De la Borne.  I have some influence with him, and I will get to the bottom of the whole matter.  I will take you back, and I will make inquiries at once.”

She settled down in his easy chair.  Her dark eyes were full of pleading.

“But, Mr. Andrew,” she said, “I do not want to go back to the Hall.  I am afraid of them all, and I am afraid of my stepmother more than any of them.  Why may I not stay here?  I will be very good, and I will give you no trouble at all.”

“My child,” he said firmly, “you are talking nonsense.  I am only a village fisherman, but you could not possibly stay in my house here.  I have not even a housekeeper.”

“That,” she declared calmly, “is an excellent reason why I should stop.  I will be your housekeeper.  Come and sit here by me and let us talk about it.”

He walked instead to the window.  He did not choose at that moment that she should see his face.

“You do not wish to have me!” she cried.

He turned round.  She slid out of her chair and came over to his side.

“I can only tell you,” he said gravely, “that it is impossible for you to stay here, and that I must take you home at once.”

She took his arm and looked up into his face.

“At once, Mr. Andrew?” she asked timidly.

“As soon as the storm goes down,” he answered, glancing uneasily towards the clock.  “Listen, please, Miss—­”

“Jeanne,” she whispered.

“Miss Jeanne, then,” he said.  “There are some things which you do not yet understand very well, because you have been brought up differently to most English girls.  I have some influence with Mr. De la Borne, and I shall do what I can for you up at the house.  But it is very certain that you must not think of leaving your stepmother unless you have some other relative who is willing to take you.  A child of your age cannot live alone.  It is unheard of.”

She sighed, and turned away.

“Very well, Mr. Andrew,” she said.  “If you do not wish to be troubled with me I will go back.  I am ready when you are.”

Andrew looked once more out of the window.

“We cannot cross just yet,” he said.  “The tide is coming in very fast, and even here there is a big sea.”

“It is magnificent,” she answered, stealing back to his side.  “I only wish that we were outside.”

“You could not stand up,” he answered.  “Listen!”

The thunder of the incoming waves seemed to fill the room.  Even while they stood there a little shower of pebbles and spray were dashed against the windows.  Andrew looked anxiously across the estuary and tapped the barometer by his side.

“I am afraid,” he said, “that you are going to be late for dinner to-night.  You are a bona fide prisoner here for an hour or more at least.”