"Le Marchant! Is it possible?"

It was Carette's youngest brother, Helier.

"All that's left of him,--hull damaged," he said, with a feeble show of
spirit.

"What's wrong?"

"A shot 'twixt wind and water--leaking a bit."

"Does it hurt you to talk?"

He nodded to save words, but added, "Hurts more not to. Thought you were
dead."

"I suppose so. Now you must lie quiet, and I'll look after you. But tell
me--how were they all in Sercq the last you heard--my mother and
grandfather--and Carette? And how long is it since?"

"A month--all well, far as I know. But we--" with a gloomy shake of the
head--"we are wiped out."

"Your father and brothers?"

"All in same boat--wiped out."

I would have liked to question him further, but the talking was evidently
trying to him, and I had to wait. It was much to have learnt that up to a