"Peter? I'm asking you. I want him. Where is he?"
"He went to Little Sark last night, and he's never come home."
"Never come home? Why, what's taken him? If he'd been with me last night
he'd have seen something! That Nance Hamon swam across to the rock with
nothing on but her shift to take food to Gard, and I caught her at
it--the shameless hussy!"
"Maybe Peter's heard of it an' gone across with 'em again," suggested
one. "He was terrible hot against Gard."
"And reason he had to be hot against him," cried Julie. "Who'll find out
for me where he's got to, and when they're going out after Gard? I would
go too and see the end of him."
A couple of burly husbands came rolling round the corner towards their
breakfasts and caught her words.
"Doubt you'll have to go alone, mistress," said one, phlegmatically.
"There's ghosts on L'Etat, they do say, though sure the one John
Drillot brought across was dead enough."
"If he's there," said the other, plumbing Julie's feelings, "he's safe
as a pig in a pen."
"Where's our Peter?" demanded Mrs. Guille.
"Peter? I d'n know.
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