And the thought of it
thrilled his cold blood and set it coursing through his veins like new
life. Yes, truly, while there was Nance there was hope.
Perhaps the Senechal and the Vicar would prevail upon them. Perhaps they
would give it up and leave him alone, and then Nance would find him a
boat and they would get across to Guernsey. Perhaps, as she kept
insisting, something would happen to discover the truth.
So he lay, while the sun mounted high and baked him on the bare stones,
but he did not find it hot.
And then, of a sudden, he stiffened and lay watching anxiously. For
there, from out the Creux had come a boat--and another, and another, and
another--four boat-loads of them again!
So they were coming, after all, and his hopes died sudden death.
Well--let them come and take him and have their will. He was not the
first who had paid the price for what he had not done, and human nature
must fall to pieces if hung too long on tenterhooks.
He watched them listlessly. He could crawl into his innermost cavern, of
course, and could hold it against them all till the end of time, which
in this case would be but a trifling span, for a man must eat to live.
Pages:
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337