Carette of Sark Part 47

"He is away to Peter Port, but he had to go by way of Jersey, and by night, to avoid their look-out boats. He has got there all right, for there is fighting on Herm. We heard the sound of the guns, and the Herm men are getting back there as fast as they can go."

"What day is this?"

"To-day is Thursday."

"Thursday!" echoed Carette. "And we came in here on Tuesday! Is it Thursday of this week or Thursday of next week, Uncle George?"

"This week," he said with surprise, for he could not possibly understand how completely we had lost count of time. "Torode came across himself with four big boat-loads of rascals, with carronades in their boats, too, and they have turned the Island upside down in search of you. He thought, you see, without doubt, that if he could lay hands on you there was no one else could swear to anything but hearsay. But the Peter Port men will take your grandfather's word for it, as they would take no one else's. And that word concerning John Ozanne and his men would set them in a flame if anything could. He was very loth to go, but he saw it was the surest way of ending the matter. So he slipped away with Krok in the dark, and they were to swim out to a boat off Les Laches and make their way by Jersey. Now, if you have eaten, we will get out to the light."

"Dieu merci!" said Carette heartfully.

"And what about him?" I asked, nodding towards the wounded man.

"He must wait. Can he eat?"

"I have dropped brandy down his throat two or three times, and he seems to swallow it."

"We will give him some more, and decide afterwards. Mon Dieu! But I wish Philip was here."

"Would you tell him?"

"Surely! But not your mother, Phil," he said anxiously, and I knew again how truly he loved her. "She must not know. She must never know."

"What about Aunt Jeanne?" I asked.

He shook his head. "The fewer that know the better." So we dropped some more brandy and water into the wounded man's mouth, and gathered our few belongings, and crept down the tunnel after Uncle George.

Oh, the blessedness of the sweet salt sunlit air, as we stood in the water-worn chasm and blinked at the light, while Uncle George carefully closed his door. We took long deep draughts of it, and felt uplifted and almost light-headed.

"It is resurrection," said Carette; and as we climbed out of the cleft and took our way quickly among the great gorse cus.h.i.+ons along Eperquerie, the dull sound of firing on Herm came to us on the west wind.

CHAPTER x.x.xVI

HOW A STORM CAME OUT OF THE WEST

"Thank G.o.d, you have escaped them!" was my mother's grateful greeting as we came into Belfontaine. "But you have suffered! You are starving?"

"Not a bit, little mother," chirped Carette, as they kissed very warmly.

"We have been quite happy, though, ma fe, it was as dark and still as the tomb, and there is a spring in there that is enough to frighten one into a fit. And George Hamon here is trying to make us believe this is only Thursday, and it is certain we have been in there at least a week."

"It is only Thursday," smiled my mother. "But the time must have seemed long in the dark and all by yourselves."

"Oh, we didn't mind being by ourselves, not a bit, and we never quarrelled once. But, ma fe, yes, it was dark, and so still. I could hear Phil's heart beat when I couldn't see him."

"You both look as if you had been seeing ghosts. Is it that your arm is paining you, Phil, mon gars?"

"Hardly at all. Carette saw to it."

"Bien! You are bleached for lack of suns.h.i.+ne, then."

"Mon Dieu, yes," said Carette. "I felt myself getting whiter every minute, and we were almost starving when Uncle George came. We had been days without food, you know, although you all say it is only Thursday;" and my mother smiled and began to spread the table, but we showed her it was only Carette's nonsense.

But if she was relieved on our account, she was still very anxious about her father.

"They are fighting over there, George," she said, looking anxiously out over the water to where Herm lay peacefully in the afternoon suns.h.i.+ne, and as we stood listening, the dull sound of guns came to us again. "That means that he got there all right?"

"Trust Philip to get there all right. And to come back all right too. I hope they'll make an end of them," said Uncle George stoutly.

"You can never tell what will happen when fighting's afoot," she sighed.

"He'll take care of himself. Don't you worry, Rachel."

"Shall I put a fresh bandage on your head? It is hurting you, I can see."

"No, no," he said hastily, and then, "Well, yes truly, it is hard and dry--if you will;" and she steeped his bandage in cold water and carefully bound up his head again. And all the time we were in mortal fear lest some chance word from one or the other should disclose that which was hidden in the cave, that which would blight her life again if it got out.

"Did they trouble you, mother?" I asked.

"The young Torode came with a party of his men and searched every corner of the place. And in reply to his questionings all I said was that you were gone. Then George and your grandfather came up and would have turned them out, and the young man and George fell out--"

"He drew a pistol on me and gave me this, and I knocked him down," said Uncle George. "And then the men dragged him away."

"It's well it was no worse," said my mother. "I do not like that young man;" and little she knew how small cause indeed she had to like him.

We went on along the cliffs to Beaumanoir to show ourselves to Aunt Jeanne, and ever and again the sound of the guns came to us on the wind, and more than once Uncle George stopped with his face turned that way, as though his thoughts were more there than here.

"Ah v'la! So here you are, my little ones. I hope you had a pleasant time in Jersey," cried Aunt Jeanne, as soon as she caught sight of us. "I have been risking my salvation by swearing through thick and thin that you went to Jersey on Tuesday. But that young Torode only scoffed at me. Bad manners to say the least of it, after eating one's gache and drinking one's cider, and nearly dancing holes in one's floor. I believe you're hungry, you two;"

and she made for her cupboards.

"No truly, auntie," said Carette, "we have done nothing but eat and sleep since ever Uncle George shut us up in his hole. But, mon Dieu, you cannot imagine how dark and still it is in there. Each time we slept was a night, and each time we woke was a day, and we were there about three weeks."

"Ma fe, you look it," nodded Aunt Jeanne.

"And the father and Martin?" asked Carette.

"So so. Give them time. They have kept asking for you."

Uncle George was standing looking over at Herm again, and something of what was in his face was in Aunt Jeanne's, as she said to him--

"Ma fe, yes! But they are getting it hot over there. If you take my advice, George Hamon, you will muster all the men you can and have them ready."

"How then?" he said quickly. "You think--?"

"I think what you are thinking, my friend. If they are beaten over there--and they will be, unless the Guernsey men are bigger fools than they used to be--we may see some of them across here again and in a still worse temper. If they make a bolt at the last, they'll make for France, and ten to one they'll take a bite at us in pa.s.sing. They came to stop trouble before, now they'll come to make it."