so much."

"Maybe," said my grandfather with his quiet smile. "But, as Jeanne Falla
says, 'Young calves'--"

"I know, I know," laughed John Ozanne. "She's a famous wise woman is Jeanne
Falla, and many a licking she gave me when I was a boy for stealing her
apples round there at Cobo."

When my grandfather waved his hand, as they ran out past Castle Cornet, the
last link broke between Sercq and myself for many a day. Before I saw any
of them again--except the distant sight of the Island lying like a great
blue whale nuzzling its young, as we passed up Little Russel next
morning--many things had happened for the changing of many lives. I had
seen much, suffered much, and learned much, and it is of these things I
have to tell you.

We cast off next day, amid the cheers and wavings of a great crowd. Half
Peter Port stood on the walls of the old harbour. Some had friends and
relatives on board, and their shoutings were akin to lusty, veiled prayers
for their safe return. Some had eggs in our basket, and in wishing us good
speed were not without an eye to the future, and maybe were already
counting their possible chickens. We gave them cheer for cheer, and more
again for the St. Sampson people. Then, with all our new swing making a
gallant show, we swept past Grand Braye, and Ancresse, and turned our nose
to the north-west.

We were all in the best of spirits. The _Swallow_ was well found and well
armed, and showed a livelier pair of heels than I had looked for, and that,
in an Ishmaelitish craft, was a consideration and a comfort. She was roomy