solicitude. I thought of her for a minute or two as I hurried along the
steep streets leading down to the quay. But the prospect before me
caught my eye. Opposite lay Sark, bathed in sunlight, and the sea
between was calm enough at present. A ride across, with a westerly
breeze filling the sails, and the boat dancing lightly over the waves,
would not be a bad exchange for a dull Sunday afternoon, with Julia at
the Sunday-school and my mother asleep. Besides, it was the path of duty
which was leading me across the quiet gray sea before me.

Tardif was waiting, with his sails set and oars in the rowlocks, ready
for clearing the harbor. I took one of them, and bent myself willingly
to the light task. There was less wind than I had expected, but what
there was blew in our favor. We were very quickly beyond the pier-head,
where a group of idlers was always gathered, who sent after us a few
warning shouts. Nothing could be more exhilarating than our onward
progress. I felt as if I had been a prisoner, with, chains which had
pressed heavily yet insensibly upon me, and that now I was free. I drew
into my lungs the fresh, bracing, salt air of the sea, with a deep sigh
of delight.




CHAPTER THE SECOND.

A PATIENT IN SARK.


It struck me after a while that my friend Tardif was unusually silent.
The shifting of the sails appeared to give him plenty to do; and to my