He had not stirred from the place and position in which I had left him.
I am sure no sound could have reached him from the inner room, for we
had been so still that during the whole time I could hear the beat of
the sea dashing up between the high cliffs of the Havre Gosselin. Up and
down went Tardif's shaggy mustache, the surest indication of emotion
with him, and he fetched his breath almost with a sob.

"Well, Dr. Martin?" was all he said.

"The arm is set," I answered, "and now she must get some sleep. There is
not the least danger, Tardif; only we will keep the house as quiet as
possible."

"I must go and bring in the boat," he replied, bestirring himself as if
some spell was at an end. "There will be a storm to-night, and I should
sleep the sounder if she was safe ashore."

"I'll come with you," I said, glad to get away from the seaweed fire.

It was not quite dark, and the cliffs stood out against the sky in odder
and more grotesque shapes than by daylight. A host of seamews were
fluttering about and uttering the most unearthly hootings, but the sea
was as yet quite calm, save where it broke in wavering, serpentine lines
over the submerged reefs which encircle the island. The tidal current
was pouring rapidly through the very narrow channel between Sark and the
little isle of Breckhou, and its eddies stretching to us made it rather
an arduous task to get Tardif's boat on shore safely. But the work was
pleasant just then. It kept our minds away from useless anxieties about
the girl. An hour passed quickly, and up the ravine, in the deep gloom
of the overhanging rocks, we made our way homeward.