I closed my eyes, glad to leave myself wholly in his charge, and to have nothing further to dread; yet moaning a little, involuntarily, whenever a fresh pang of pain shot through me.
Then he would cry again, "Mon Dieu!" in a beseeching tone, and pause for an instant as if to give me rest.

It seemed a long time before we reached the farm-yard gate, and he shouted, with a tremendous voice, to his mother to come and open it.

Fortunately she was in sight, and came toward us quickly.
He carried me into the house, and laid me down on the _lit de fouaille_--a wooden frame forming a sort of couch, and filled with dried fern, which forms the principal piece of furniture in every farm-house kitchen in the Channel Islands.

Then he cut away the boot from my swollen ankle, with a steady but careful touch, speaking now and then a word of encouragement, as if I were a child whom he was tending.

His mother stood by, looking on helplessly and in bewilderment, for he had not had time to explain my accident to her.
But for my arm, which hung helplessly at my side, and gave me excruciating pain when he touched it, it was quite evident he could do nothing.
"Is there nobody who could set it ?" I asked, striving very hard to keep calm.
"We have no doctor in Sark now," he answered.