Barbara in Brittany Part 7

Barbara turned away impatiently, and felt she could gladly have shaken her companion.

"One wants to come to a place like this with nice companions or alone,"

she thought, and it was this feeling that drove her out on to the ramparts that evening after dinner. She was feeling happy at having successfully escaped from the noisy room downstairs, and thankful to the game of cards that had beguiled Mademoiselle Therese's attention from her, when she heard footsteps close beside her, and, turning round, saw Jean Dubois.

"Whatever do you want here?" she said a little irritably; then, hearing his humble answer that he had just come to enjoy the view, felt ashamed of herself, and tried to be pleasant.

"Do you know," she said, suddenly determining to share an idea with him to make up for her former rudeness, "we have seen Mont St. Michel from every side but one--and that is the sea side. I should like to see it every way, wouldn't you? I have just made a little plan, and that is to get up early to-morrow morning, and go out across the sand till I can see it."

"Mademoiselle!" the boy exclaimed. "But is it safe? The sands are treacherous, and many have been buried in them."

"Yes; I know, but there are lots of footsteps going across them in all directions, and I saw some people out there to-day. If I follow the footprints it will be safe, for where many can go surely one may."

It took some time for Jean to grow accustomed to the idea, and he drew his _capucine_ a little closer round him, as if the thought of such an adventure chilled him; then he laid his hand on Barbara's arm.

"I, too," he said, "will see the view from that side. Mademoiselle Barbara, I will come with you."

"But your father? Would he approve, do you think?"

"But a.s.suredly," Jean said hastily; "he wishes me to get an entire idea of Mont St. Michel--to be permeated, in fact. It is to be an educational visit, he said."

"Very well, then. But we must be very early and very quiet, so that we may not disturb mademoiselle. I am not confiding in her, you understand. Can you be ready at half-past five, so that we may be back before coffee?"

"a.s.suredly--at half-past five I shall be on the terrace," and Jean's cheeks actually glowed at the thought of the adventure. "There was so much romance in it," he thought, and pictured how nice it would be telling the story to Marie afterwards.

Barbara herself was very gleeful, for it was nice to be able to act without wondering whether she was showing the younger ones a good example or not. She felt almost as if she were back at school, and that feeling was intensified by the little cubicle bedrooms with which the visitors at Madame Poulard's were provided. She had been a little anxious as to whether she would awaken at the right hour, but found, on opening her eyes next morning, that she had plenty of time to spare.

She dressed noiselessly, for mademoiselle was sleeping in the next room, and she did not want to rouse her, and stole down the pa.s.sage and into the terrace, where Jean was waiting for her. They were early risers at Mont St. Michel, and the servants looked with some curiosity, mingled perhaps with disapproval, at the couple, but they recognised the girl as being English, and of course there was no accounting for what any of that nation did! It was a lovely morning, and Barbara, picking her way over the rocks, hummed gaily to herself, for it was an excursion after her own heart.

Jean cast rather a doubtful eye from the rocks to the waste of sand in front of them, but, seeing his companion did not hesitate, he could not either, and stepped out boldly beside her.

"You see," Barbara explained, "it is really perfectly hard here, and we will keep quite close to the footsteps that lead right out to that other rock out there."

"But you are surely not going as far as that?" he inquired anxiously.

"We should never be back in time for coffee."

"I don't think so," Barbara returned gaily; "but we'll see how we get on."

When once Jean saw that the ground was perfectly sound beneath their feet, and that the footprints went on unwaveringly, he felt rea.s.sured, and really began to enjoy himself. They turned round every now and then to look back at the Mont, but decided each time that they had not got quite far enough away to get a really good effect.

"You know," said Jean, some of his fears returning after a time, "one usually has guides--people who know the sands--to take one out so far.

I trod on a very soft place just now."

"Keep near the footprints then," Barbara answered. "The tide hasn't been up yet, and the sands can't surely change in the night-time. Just a little farther, and then we will stop."

They stopped a few minutes later, and both declared that the view was well worth the walk, the only thing that Barbara regretted being that it was too damp to sit down and enjoy it at their ease.

"It _would_ have been nice to get as far as Tombelaine," the girl said at last, turning from St. Michel to take another look at the rocky islet farther out; "but I suppose we really must be going home again now."

Jean did not answer her. He had turned with her towards the rock; then his eyes had wandered round the horizon, and had remained fixed in such a stare that the girl wondered what he saw.

"What is the matter?" she asked. "What is it you are seeing, Jean?"

"The sea," he gasped, his face becoming ashen. "Mademoiselle--the tide--it advances--we will be caught."

Barbara looked across the long stretch of gray sand till her eyes found the moving line of water.

"It is nearer," she said slowly; "but of course it always comes in every day."

"Yes--but--to-day--I had forgotten--it is to be high tide--all round the Mont. Did you not hear them say so?"

"Yes," Barbara owned; "I remember quite well now. But let us hurry--it is a long way off yet. We have plenty of time." She spoke consolingly, for Jean's face was blanched and she saw he was trembling.

"But, mademoiselle, you do not understand. Did you not hear them telling us also that the tide advances so rapidly that it catches the quickest horse? Oh, I wish we had told some one of this journey--that some one had seen us. They would have warned us. We should have been safe."

It was then for the first time that the thought of danger entered Barbara's head, and she took her companion's hand.

"Let us run, then. Quick!" she said. "We are not such a very long way off."

Jean hesitated only a moment, his eyes, as if fascinated, still on the water; then he turned his face towards the Mont, and sped over the sand more fleetly than Barbara would have believed possible to him--so fleetly, indeed, that he began to leave the girl, who was swift of foot, behind.

She glanced over her shoulder at the sea, which certainly was drawing in very rapidly, licking over the sand greedily, then forward at St.

Michel, and fell to a walk. She knew she could not run the whole distance for it was not easy going on the sand, especially when an eye had always to be kept un the guiding footprints.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "She glanced over her shoulder at the sea."]

It was some little time before Jean really realised she was not close behind him; then he stopped running and waited for her.

"Go on," she shouted. "Don't wait for me, I can catch you up later."

"But it is impossible for me to leave you," he called back on regaining his breath. "But, oh! run if you can, for the water comes very near."

One more fleeting glance behind and Barbara broke into a run again, though her breath came in gasps.

"They are seeing us from the Mont," panted Jean. "They have come out to watch the tide rise. Give me your hand. Do not stop! Do not stop!"

Barbara felt that, do as she would, her breath could hold out no longer, and she slackened her pace to a walk once more. Then a great shout went up from the people on the ramparts, and they began waving their hands and handkerchiefs wildly. To them the two figures seemed to be moving so slowly and the great sea behind so terribly fast.

Barbara could hear its swish, swish, near enough now, and she felt Jean's hand tremble in her own. "Run yourself," she said, dropping it.

"Run, and I'll follow."

But he merely shook his head. To speak was waste of breath, and he meant his to last him till he reached the rocks.

He pulled the girl into a trot again, and they plodded on heavily. It was impossible for him to speak now, but he pointed at the rocks below St. Michel where two men were scrambling down, and Barbara understood that they were coming to aid.

The sea was very close--horribly close--when two fishermen met the couple, and, taking Barbara's hands on either side, pulled her on, while Jean panted a little way behind. The watching crowd above had been still with fear until they saw the rocks reached; then they shouted again and again, while the many who had scrambled down part of the way hastened forward to see who the adventurous couple were, and to give a helping hand if necessary.

One of the first to reach them was the little widower, his cravate loose, his hat off, and tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Jean!" he wailed. "What have I done that you should treat me so?

What would your sainted mother say were she to see you thus?"