"Yes, go, my good Tardif," she cried, "and bring me word that Dr. Martin is safe on board.—Good-by!"
Her hand in mine again for a moment, with its slight pressure. Then she was gone, Tardif was tramping down the stony path before me, speaking to me over his shoulder.
"It has not gone well, then, doctor?" he said.
"She will tell you," I answered, briefly, not knowing how much Olivia might wish him to know.
"Take care of mam'zelle," I said, when we had reached the top of the ladder, and the little boat from the yacht was dancing at the foot of it. "There is some danger ahead, and you can protect her better than I."
"Yes, yes," he replied; "you may trust her with me. But God knows I should have been glad if it had gone well with you."
CHAPTER THE THIRTY-FIRST.
A STORY IN DETAIL.