Miss Jelliffe was sitting upon the porch.  Wisps of her rich chestnut hair were being blown about by the pleasant breeze, and there is no doubt that her white shirtwaist with the rather mannish collar and tie, the tweed skirt with wide leather belt, and the serviceable low tanned shoes made a vision such as I had not expected to behold in Sweetapple Cove.

She smiled brightly as I came up and bade me good morning.  Her pretty face had lost the worried, tearful look of the day before.  I expressed the hope that her father had been able to obtain some rest.

“I am under the impression that Daddy slept rather better than I could,” she answered, cheerfully.  “Such a concert as I was treated to!  I had always had an idea that my father was rather appalling, but your ancient sea-faring friend was positively extraordinary.  After you left I read just a little to Daddy, and the hypnotic quality of my voice had rapid effect.  After this Captain Sammy curled up on the floor, just like one of the local dogs, and spurned my offer of rugs and pillows with the specious excuse that if he made himself too comfortable and chanced to fall asleep he would never wake up.  I went to my room to write a letter and presently the walls began to shake.  You never heard such a duet.”

“Is Mr. Jelliffe still asleep?” I asked.

“No, indeed!  He has already clamored for his breakfast and is at present occupied with a bowl of oatmeal and some coffee.”

Just then Frenchy came up, lifting his cap to the young lady.  In one of his big paws he held his little boy’s hand.

“Tak aff you cap to ze yong lady lak I tole you,” he said, gravely.  “Heem tink you a leetle sauvage.”

The wide-eyed little chap obeyed the big sailor, his yellow curls falling over his eyes.  He continued to stare at her, with a fat thumb tucked in a corner of his mouth.

“Me come say heem Beel Atkins heem go aff to St. Jean to-day.  Heem got load of feesh.”

“That is important news, Miss Jelliffe.  Civilization is opening its arms to you,” I told her.  “Atkins can take letters and messages for you, and may be trusted to bring back anything you need, providing you write it all down carefully.  This is also an opportunity of obtaining other surgical advice for your father.”

“I need a lot of things,” she exclaimed, “and there will be a message to our captain to hurry matters at that dry-dock.  But I will have to consult my father.”

“We go to-day?” Yves asked me, pointing towards Will’s Island.

“Yes, Dick needs a lot of care yet,” I answered.  “But you will wait here and take some orders to Atkins first.”

“Oui, orright, me wait,” he said.

Miss Jelliffe had gone indoors and the man sat down on the porch, with the little chap beside him, and they gravely watched the gulls circling over the water.  Yves is very big and rough looking, and his black beard is impressive.  He gives one rather the idea of what the men must have been, who manned the ships of William the Conqueror, than the notion of a conventional Frenchman.  Yet there is in him something very soft and tender, which appears when he looks at that child, with deep dark eyes that always seem to behold things beyond the ordinary ranges of vision.