The Gouliots was too far for them." Women and children were running past towards Saut de Juan, the women anxious for their men, the children racing and skipping as if it were a picnic.

I handed over my basket to willing hands, at the head of the path that leads down by the side of the gulf to the Gouliots, and gave Carette a hearty kiss before them all, which set some of the women smiling in spite of their forebodings.
"Ah-ha!" chuckled one old crone.

"Bind the faggot if it's only for the fire." "Faggot without band is not complete," I laughed.

"See you take care of my faggot, Mere Tanquerel, or I'll want to know why;" and I ran on along the heights to fetch my mother from Belfontaine.
As I came down the slope towards Port a la Jument I met her and George Hamon hurrying along, and her face was full of anxious surprise still, while Uncle George's had in it a rare tenderness for her which I well understood.
"I was just coming for you, mother," I said.
"It is good to be so well looked after," she smiled through her fears.

"If only we knew that your grandfather was all right--" "Philip will be here before long," said Uncle George confidently.