"Oh made, Doctor!" and the little hands clasped up on her breast, as was
her way when greatly moved. "Not----?"
She dared not hope for so much--the wish of her heart--just an inch or
so behind the desire for Gard's recovery.
"The cutter this morning brought over one we had feared was lost----"
"Not--not Bernel?"
"Yes, my child, Bernel, by God's good mercy! He was picked up by a
Granville trawler, and lay there ill for some days, and could only get
back by Jersey and Guernsey. He was to come along with the Senechal in a
quarter of an hour--"
But Nance had fallen on her knees and buried her face in the
bed-clothes, lest any but God should see it in the rapture of its
breaking.
"Dieu merci! Dieu merci! Dieu merci!" she was crying, though none of
them heard it.
And "Thank God!" said Stephen Gard with fervour--for Bernel, and for
himself, but most of all for Nance.
NOTE.--The names used in this book are necessarily the names
still current in Sark. None of the characters presented,
however, are in any way connected with any persons now living
in the Island.
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