Old Mrs. Le Messurier, who used frequently to go in and “help” at the Seigneurie when the Le Pelleys were there, told me that she was there in February, 1839, the time that Peter Le Pelley was drowned, and the night before “La Grande Garce” was seen walking through the passages, and the tapping of her high heels was heard through the house, while some said she was wringing her hands. Knowing that her appearance in this manner was a sure presage of misfortune, the servants all begged Mr. Le Pelley next day not to set sail for Guernsey, especially as there was a strong south wind blowing, but he would go, and the boat was swamped off the Pointe du Nez, and all perished.--_From Mrs. Le Messurier, of Sark._ Mr. de Garis, of the Rouvets, told me that he had an old servant who came from Sark, who told him of a lady who appeared at the Seigneurie, if the bedroom door was locked. In 1565 Queen Elizabeth “conferred on Helier de Carteret and his heirs for ever, in reward of the many services received by herself and her royal ancestors from this family, the aforesaid island of Sark, to be held _in capite_, as a fief haubert, on the payment of an annual rent of fifty shillings.” Sir Charles de Carteret, Seigneur of St. Ouen, and of Sark, being heavily in debt, made a provision in his will for the settling of his debts by ordering that at his death the Seigneurie of Sark should be sold. This will bears the date of 1713. During his lifetime he obtained a patent from Queen Anne authorising the above sale. And in 1730 it was bought by Dame Susan Le Gros, widow of Mr. Nicholas Le Pelley. Her son Nicholas inherited it, and it remained in the Le Pelleys’ possession until 1852, when, owing to heavy losses incurred in the working of the silver mines in Little Sark, they sold it to Mrs. T. G. Collings, and it is now in the possession of the Collings family. “LA FLLIEUR DE JAON.” There is an English saying that “when the gorse is out of bloom, kissing is out of fashion.” This is expanded in Guernsey into the following tales. A man, who had been long suffering from a lingering illness, was at last lying on his death-bed. His wife was unremitting in her attentions, and profuse in her expressions of sorrow at the thoughts of losing him. He did not doubt her affection for him, but ventured to hint at the probability of her looking out for a second husband before the first year of her widowhood should be expired. She warmly repudiated the bare possibility of such a thought entering her mind, and was ready to make a vow that she would never again enter into the married state. “Well,” said the man mildly, “I ask no more than that you should promise me not to wed again while any blossom can be found on the furze.” [Illustration: “Harbour, showing entrance to Cow Lane.”]