Before long I heard the tramp of Tardif and his comrade following me; their heavy tread sent down the loose stones on the path plunging into the sea.

They were both laden with part of the boat's cargo.

They stopped to rest for a minute or two at the spot where I had sat down, and the other boatman began talking earnestly to Tardif in his _patois_, of which I did not understand a word.

Tardif's face was very grave and sad, indescribably so; and, before he turned to me and spoke, I knew it was some sorrowful catastrophe he had to tell.
"You see how smooth it is, mam'zelle," he said--"how clear and beautiful--down below us, where the waves are at play like little white children?
I love them, but they are cruel and treacherous.

While I was away there was an accident down yonder, just beyond these rocks.