A Maid of the Silver Sea Part 16

"Well, I have tried taking it with me, but it's not very satisfactory."

"What would you say to coming here for it, as you used to? I think we could manage it, Nance. What do you say?"

"We could manage it all right," said Nance, "if--" and then, in spite of herself, she could not keep that telltale mouth of hers in order, and the attempt to repress a smile only emphasized the dimples at the corners. For Gard's face was as eager as a dog's at sight of a rat.

"It will save me such a lot of time," he explained--at which Nance dimpled again as she went out to feed her chickens, and left them to complete the new arrangement.

And if it had cost Gard every penny of his salary he would still have rejoiced at it, and considered his bargain a good one. As it was, it cost him no more than the trouble of rearranging his terms with the good folks at Plaisance, and it gave a new zest and enjoyment to life since it ensured a meeting with Nance at least once each day.

And not with Nance only!

Madame Julie, very weary of herself, and Tom, and her surroundings, and Sark, and life in general as understood in Sark, very soon became conscious of the regular visits next door of the best-looking young man she had yet seen in the Island, and was filled with curiosity concerning him.

"He's after that slip of a Nance," she said to herself. "And he has his own share of good looks, has that young man."--And then came the inevitable, "Mon Dieu, but I wish Tom had been made like that!"

To get a better view of him--and perhaps not without a vague idea of ulterior interest and amus.e.m.e.nt for herself--anything to add a dash of colour to the prevailing greyness of her surroundings--she was leaning on the gate next day when he came striding up to his dinner, and gave him, "Bon jour, m'sieur!" with much heartiness and the full benefit of her black eyes and white teeth.

"'Jour, madame!" and he whipped off his hat and pa.s.sed on into the house.

"That was Madame Tom, I suppose, who was leaning over the gate, as I came in," he said, as they ate.

"I expect so," said Mrs. Hamon. "She generally seems to have time on her hands."

"When Tom's not there," snapped Grannie. "Got her hands full enough when he is."

"I should imagine Tom would not be too easy to get on with at times.

Maybe he'll settle down now he's married."

"Doesn't sound like settling down sometimes," chirped the old lady again.

"Oh? I'm sorry to hear that. She doesn't look bad-tempered."

"Tom's got more'n enough for the two of them."

"I'm afraid she finds it a change from what she's been accustomed to,"

said Mrs. Hamon quietly. "She came in once or twice, but her talk is of things that don't interest us, and ours is of things that don't interest her, so we can't get as friendly as we would like to be."

"And Tom?"

"Tom considers us all robbers, as he always has done. He gives us his blackest face whenever he sees any of us."

"That's unpleasant, seeing you're such close neighbours."

"Yes, it's unpleasant, but we can't help it. It's just Tom. How is your work getting on?"

"Not as I would wish," said Gard, with a gloomy wag of the head. "Your Sark men are difficult--very difficult, and the others who ought to know better, and who do know better"--with more than a touch of warmth--"go on as though I was a slave-driver."

"Sark men are hard to drive," said Mrs. Hamon sympathetically.

"They know perfectly well that I want only what is just and right to the shareholders. They expect their pay to the last penny, but when I insist on a proper return for it they look at me as if they'd like to knock me on the head. It's disheartening work. I've been tempted at times to throw it all up and go back to England"--at which Nance's heart gave so unusual a little kick that she had difficulty in frowning it into quietude, and just then Bernel came in with his gun and a couple of rabbits.

"Who's going to England?" he asked. "I'll go too."

"No you won't," said Nance sharply. "We want you here."

"It's as dull as Beauregard pond and as dirty, since the m--aw--um!"

with a deprecatory glance at Gard.

"You'd find most busy places just as dirty," said Gard.

"Then I'll go to sea. That's clean at all events."

"Let's hope things will brighten a bit. You wouldn't find the fo'c'sle of a trader as comfortable as La Closerie, my boy,"--and they fell to on their dinner and left the matter there.

"Dites-donc, Nannon, ma pet.i.te," said Mrs. Tom to Nance, a day or two later, "who is the joli gars who comes each day to see you?"

"Mr. Gard from the mines comes up here to get his dinner, if that's what you mean."

"Oh--ho! He comes for his dinner, does he? And is that all he comes for, little Miss Modesty?"

"That's all," said Nance solemnly.

"Oh yes, without a doubt, that's all. I think I'll ask him next time I see him. Why doesn't he go home for his dinner like other people?"

"He's living at Plaisance now and it's far to go. He used to live here, you know."

"Ma foi, no, I didn't know. He used to live here? And why did he go to Plaisance then?"

"We hadn't room for him, you see."

"But, Mon Dieu, we have room and to spare! There are those two bedrooms empty. Why shouldn't he--"

But Nance shook her head at that.

"Why then?" demanded Mrs. Tom, with visions of some one besides Tom to talk to of an evening--a good-looking, sensible one too. "Why?"

"He and Tom don't get on well together--"

"Pardi, I'm not surprised at that. It would need an angel out of heaven to get on with him sometimes. What induced me ever to marry such a grumbler I don't know. I wonder if Monsieur What-is-it?--Gard--would come back if I could arrange it?"

But Nance shook her head again.

"Ah--ha, ma garche, and you would sooner he did not--is it not so?"

"I'm quite sure he and Tom would never get on together, and I don't think Mr. Gard would come."

"It's worth trying, however. He would be some one to talk to of an evening any way."