"You are the first stranger I have met at
that false foolish place," said she, " and,
although I would not notice you then, my
heart shrank as if you might be the bearer of
evil news. You seemed to look at me, and
not to care about the curiosities of our island.
This is not proper in a stranger, but if you
are a messenger the case is quite different.
We can talk together here—and if you stoop
down, the admiral will not be able to see us
with his telescope."

I did not know what to say. It was quite evident
that an impassable barrier had now been
raised between Cornic and Madeleine. To
speak of his presence on the mainland would
be sheer cruelty.

"What is the reason you threw the pebble
into the gulf, my child ?" said I evading the
subject she wished to talk of.

"I am not your child," she replied
haughtily. " I am the child of M. Bosc, the
richest man on this island, which is the reason
why they all want to marry me—all the old
admirals, I mean. But, my heart is sealed
up, and he who can open it is far away. He
will come back, for the pebble speaks truth.
All the young girls of Brehat try that experiment;
but those that sigh for him come away
disappointed—looking red and foolish. The
pebbles they throw do not go straight down,
but tinkle, tinkle against the rock—one tinkle
for every year of maidenhood. Mine only
makes no noise, so that, of course, Cornic
must come back soon. For, how else am I to
be married to him?"

I tried to proceed, but she stood in my
path.

" All is wrong here," touching her forehead.
"I won't deceive you ; but I am not
so mad as not to see you come from Cornic.
Why, if you did not know all about my story
and pity me, you would be quite frightened !
But you only look grave and puzzled. Ha !
perhaps you are oue of those who say he
went down to the bottom of the sea. But
this is nonsense. I must be married to him
within the year ; and drowned men don't
marry. Hush ! let us talk of something
else ; here is my husband ! "

I had little time to notice the contradiction
of the latter part of this speech ; for, the
old Admiral, who had approached over the
low country, now came close upon us. He
walked slowly, as if not to interrupt our
colloquy rudely ; but evidently was
surprised. I looked at him apologetically, and
he bowed.

"Madeleine," said he, very gently and
affectionately, "the air is getting cold as
the evening comes on. You know that
the father bade me careful about your
health."

She smiled quite kindly at her old husband;
and took his arm with a demure look. I
went away after exchanging salutes and
glances of intelligence with him ; and did not
turn back for some time. I then saw this
strange couple walking sedately towards the
little house among the rocks.

"What a sad story I shall have to tell to
poor Cornic!" thought I.

The hostess at Le Bourg had very little
to add to what I had learned; but, as I kept
the secret of my interview with Madeleine
to myself, I had to endure a long and
confused narrative. The news of Cornic's death
had been brought—probably invented—
purposely. Then, Madeleine had been over
persuaded by her father to marry the Admiral.
What were the precise means used to
influence her were not known; but on leaving
the church she escaped from the company,
and was found, some hours afterwards,
throwing pebbles into the Peacock's Hollow, and
exclaiming that she was to be married within
the year. This happened but a few months
after Cornic's departure, which makes it
reasonable to suppose that the young man was
deluded to go away, simply that the marriage
might take place without opposition. From
that time foreward, Madeleine never perfectly
recovered her reason, though she lived on
good terms with the Admiral, who treated
her rather as his daughter than his wife. He
had often been heard bitterly to regret
having been the cause of so much misfortune.
He built the little cottage at Kerwareva, in
order that his poor wife might indulge her
innocent fancy without being obliged every
day to take a fatiguing walk. He watched
over her with tenderness, and the influence
of his character was sufficient to prevent her
from being disturbed in her wanderings.

"My belief is," quoth the hostess, yawning,
towards the end of her story, " that Cornic
will some day come back, which will be very
unfortunate. If Madeleine sees him, something
dreadful will happen. Should you meet a
sailor of that name in your travels, tell him to
keep away from Brehat."

Next day I returned to Paimpol. The first
person I met was Cornic. He was watching
for me. I held down my head.

"Tell me all about it," he said, with manly
firmness. " I think I shall be able to
bear it."

He little expected what he was to hear:
and shed some bitter tears in the little room
of the Hôtel de Rennes. Once, he was on the
point of hastening over to Brehat, and
presenting himself before Madeleine.

"She may regain her reason on beholding
me," he exclaimed.

"To what purpose?" I inquired.

"You are right," he replied. " I will
return to my ship at Marseilles."

This was the best he could do under the
circumstances. I accompanied him back to
St. Brieuc, and then we parted. He looked
very miserable and agitated; and I was not
quite sure of him. But he was a fine fellow,
and kept his promise; and here, artistically
speaking, this story ought to have an end.
Life, however, is a complicated and