Torode's place, told me what he would do. And, crawling cautiously about my
hiding-place, and peering over the rocks, I presently saw a well-manned
boat row out from the channel between Herm and Jethou, and lie there in
wait for anything that might attempt the passage from Sercq to Peter Port.

Nothing would pass that day, that was certain, for Torode would imagine
Sercq buzzing with the news of his treacheries and bursting to set Peter
Port on him. I had got across only just in time.

On the other side of the island I could imagine all that was toward,--the
schooner loading rapidly with all they wished to take away, the bustle and
traffic between shore and ship, and Carette prisoner, either on board, or
in one of the houses,--or, as likely as not, to have her out of the way, in
my old cleft in the rock.

I wondered how long their preparations would take, for all my hopes
depended on that. If they cleared out before dark I was undone. If they
stayed the night I might have a chance.

It was about midday now. Could they load in time to thread their way
through the maze of hidden rocks that strew the passages to the sea, and
try the skilful pilot even in the daytime? I thought not. I hoped not. He
would be a reckless, or a sorely pressed, man who attempted it. And with
his boat on the watch there, and no word able to get to Peter Port unless
after dark, and the time then necessary for an organised descent on Herm, I
thought Torode would risk it and lie there quietly till perhaps the early
morning.

It was a time of weary waiting, with nothing to do but think of Carette's
distress, and watch the white clouds sailing slowly along the blue sky,