But it did not take Mrs Lascelles long to recover. Half a dozen hands were stretched to help her out of the boat, half full of water from the attack of the last wave, and she stumbled out, still grasping Kitty's band. For the first time, the _cure_ addressed them. "It has been a hazardous voyage," he remarked, "and,"--bowing to Kitty--"mademoiselle has a great courage." Then he lifted his wet hat from his head, and marched away in his dripping clothes to the _presbytere_. And now it was Everitt who, as it seemed to the girl, made everything smooth before them. The little village had little enough to boast of, but he had got them--in a shorter time than seemed possible--up to the small inn, where a good fire was lit in a room where they could dry their clothes, and where the landlady provided them with stout full skirts and warm stockings. Arrayed in these, and sitting over the fire until the carriage which was to take them to Auray was ready, Mrs Lascelles soon forgot the battering and drenching she had gone through-- even began to smile at the recollection. And then she touched on another subject. "Kitty," she said, solemnly, "Mr Everitt must be forgiven." "Forgiven!" The girl looked up with a proud glance in her eyes. "Mother, I am ashamed to have thought so much about such a little thing. It was all kindness and good-nature on his part to save me from disappointment, and see how I returned it! When he wanted to explain, we would not even listen, or allow him the opportunity of setting himself right. And now," she added passionately, "he comes and saves our lives, and so he is to be forgiven! Mother, you don't mean that!" Mrs Lascelles felt more surprise than she showed. In the vehemence of her speaking, Kitty had started up, and her mother laid her hand on her arm and drew her down again to her side. She spoke very quietly; no one knew what a sharp pang preceded her words. "My dear," she said, smiling--"my dear, how long have you felt this?" Kitty looked at her. "Ever since I knew that we had been unjust," she said, simply. "I think, almost from the first." "Ah!" said Mrs Lascelles, slowly, and still smiling; "and that seems a long while ago, doesn't it?" Then she stooped and kissed her. "God bless you, my Kitty," she said, softly and earnestly. The girl's eyes brightened. "Then, mother, you will thank him, and not talk any more about forgiving?" "No; that is certainly past," said Mrs Lascelles, still slowly; "and, as you say, I must thank him--as well as I can. I suppose," she added, following a little irresistible impulse, "that the _cure_ could have taken his place?" "No," said Kitty, earnestly, "no. Stevan told me himself that the _cure_ had not the strength. `If it had not been for the English gentleman, mademoiselle, the boat might not have weathered it.' Those were his very words." Oh, Stevan, Stevan, had he too fathomed that wonderful secret!