They all went down to the harbour to see him off—as is the custom when one\'s friends leave Sark. And when Charles Svendt had shaken hands with Margaret and Miss Penny—and had found a touch of comfort in the sympathetic droop of their faces—and had fancied Miss Penny\'s bright eyes were at once brighter and mistier than usual—and had thanked them again very humbly for all their kindness—he turned to say good-bye to Graeme.

"Come away, man!" said Jock cheerfully. "I\'m coming too. Meg\'s given me a holiday, and I\'m going to shake a free leg again in Guernsey—"

But Charles thought he saw through that.

"Don\'t you come on my account, Graeme"

"Not on your account at all, my boy, but the accounts of a good many shopkeepers over there which I\'ve got to straighten out at once, while all the little differences are fresh in my mind. Something wrong in nearly all of them—some over, some under—and I\'m still a bit of a business man though I do write books."

For, when Pixley went off to pack his portmanteau, Graeme had said to his wife, "Meg dear, what do you think of my going across to Peter Port with that young man? He\'ll have a bad black time all by himself. He\'s holding himself in before us, but when he\'s alone it\'ll all come back on him in a heap and he\'ll feel it."

And Margaret had said, "Yes, dear, go. You\'ll be a great comfort to him. I am very very sorry for him."

The last flicker of the waving handkerchiefs above the sea-wall, and their responsive wavings from the boat, had been abruptly cut by the intervening bastion of Les Laches, but Charles Svendt still leaned with ............