"Ee see," said the old gentleman, as soon as they had pulled out past Castle Cornet, and had hoisted the masts and two rather dirty sprit sails, and had run out the bowsprit and a new clean jib with a view to putting the best possible face on matters, and were beginning to catch occasional puffs of a soft westerly breeze and to wallow slowly along,—"Ee see, time\'s o\' consekens to me and my son. We got to arn our livin\'. An\' Havver Gosslin\'s this side the island an\' th\' Creux\'s t\'other side, an\' th\' currents round them points is the very divvle."

"That\'s all right, as long as you land me in Sark."

"The very divvle," and the grizzled head wagged reminiscently. "I seen \'em go right up to Casquets and haf-way to Jarsey trying to get across to Sark. An\' when time\'s o\' consekens an\' you got to arn your livin\', you don\' want to be playin\' \'bout Casquets an\' Jarsey \'stid of gittin\' \'cross to Sark an\' done wi\' it."

"Not a bit of it. You\'re quite right. Try some of this,"—as he began fumbling meaningly with a black stump of a pipe.

He filled up, and passed on the pouch to his son, who was lying on the thwarts forward, and he also filled up and passed it back with a nod.

"What\'s this?" asked Graeme.

"Jetto. Mr. Lee—Sir Austin \'e is now—brother o\' Passon Lee o\' the Port," with a backward jerk of the head, "\'e rents it."

"Live there?"

"Naw—rabbits."

"And the bigger island yonder?"

"\'At\'s Harm. \'T\'s a Garman man has that—Prince Bloocher, they calls him. Keeps kangyroos there an\' orstrichers an\' things. Don\'t let annybody ashore there now \'cept just to Shell Beach, which he can\'t help."

They struck straight across to the long high-ridged island in front, and Graeme\'s untutored eyes found no special beauty in it.

There was about it, however, a vague gray aloofness which chimed with his spirit, a sober austerity as of a stricken whale,—a mother-whale surely, for was not her young one there at her nose,—fled here to heal her wound perchance, and desirous only of solitude.

But, as they drew nearer, the vague blue-gray bloom of the whaleback resolved itself into a mantle of velvet green, which ran down every rib and spine until it broke off sharp at varying heights and let the bare bones through; and all below the break was clean naked rock—black, cream-yellow, gray, red, brown,—with everywhere a tawny fringe of seaweed, since the tide was at its lowest. Below the fringe the rocks were scoured almost white, and whiter still at their feet, like a tangled drapery of ragged lace, was the foam of the long slow seas.

And the solid silhouette of the island broke suddenly into bo............