77? e QuiBeron 
 
 Toucfi ~ ^ 
 
 Townsend Brad
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Commodore Byron M c Candless
 
 THE QUIBERON TOUCH
 
 Quiberon Touch 
 
 A Romance of the I). n "The 
 
 Great Lord Hawke ' the Sea 
 
 Th 
 
 CYRUS TOW D BRADY 
 
 " Rur Love of ( modore J 
 
 jnes," ' the 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 r day 
 :!ic West; 
 He hearri "i Quiberon Bay, 
 
 . line abreast. 
 Dov -,ight 
 
 ght, 
 jlare 
 
 N> 
 
 forfc 
 
 D. AP) VND COMPANY 
 
 1901
 
 The betrothal of " Little France. 
 
 (See page 255.
 
 A Romance of the Days when " The 
 Great Lord Hawke " was King of the Sea 
 
 By 
 CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY 
 
 Author of 
 
 " For Love of Country," " Commodore Paul 
 
 Jones," " Reuben James," " For the 
 
 Freedom of the Sea," etc, 
 
 r 
 
 " 'Twas long past noon of a wild November day 
 
 When Hawke came swooping from the West} 
 He heard the breakers thundering in Quiberon Bay, 
 
 But he flew the flag for battle, line abreast. 
 Down upon the quicksands roaring out of sight 
 Fiercely beat the storm-wind, darkly fell the night, 
 But they took the foe for pilot and the cannon's glare 
 
 for light 
 When Hawke came swooping from the West." 
 
 NEWBOLT. 
 
 forfe 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
 
 1901
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1901, 
 BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. 
 
 All rights reserved.
 
 DEDICATED TO MY MOTHER, 
 
 HARRIET CORA TOWNSEND BRADY. 
 
 In breakers crashing on the shore, 
 In tempest's shriek, or cannon's roar, 
 In cradle song, or cry of bird, 
 In lovers' voices softly heard, 
 In mighty ships upon the wave, 
 In glorious deed done by the brave, 
 In all things beautiful and dear, 
 Told as I've tried to tell them here, 
 May some voice man, or maid, or sea 
 Fail not to speak a word of me ! 
 
 957503
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 BOOK I 
 AN IDYL OF BRITTANY 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. IN THE FOG OFF USHANT I 
 
 II. THE SMASHING OF THE BRIG 9 
 
 III. ENEMIES ARE FRIENDS 18 
 
 IV. THE GARDEN AND THE ROSE 2$ 
 
 V. THE CRADLE SONG -34 
 
 VI. EXIT DOLL ENTER KNIGHT 42 
 
 VII. IN THE OLD WATCH-TOWER 53 
 
 VIII. THE END OF THE PLAY 63 
 
 BOOK II 
 
 FOR THE EMPIRE OF THE WEST 
 
 IX. THE GENERAL'S HEART 77 
 
 X. THE BEGINNING OF THE HAZARD .... 87 
 
 XI. ON THE ROOF OF THE WORLD 99 
 
 BOOK III 
 
 THE HONOUR OF DE VITRE 
 
 XII. THE SAILOR AND THE MOB Ill 
 
 XIII. GRAFTON COMES BACK TO THE ROSE . . . .122 
 
 XIV. FIGHT, RETREAT, OR SURRENDER .... 135 
 XV. GRAFTON TO THE RESCUE 140 
 
 XVI. " THOU SHALT NOT COVET " IJO 
 
 vii
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 BOOK IV 
 LOVE WILL HAVE ITS WAY 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 XVII. RECOGNITION 
 
 XVIII. FALLS THE FLAG OF FRANCE . 
 
 XIX. THE PLAY, THE STAKE, AND THE PLAYERS 
 
 XX. ANNE DE ROHAN SAYS FAREWELL ! . 
 
 PACK 
 158 
 I 7 6 
 
 188 
 2OI 
 
 XXI. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 BOOK V 
 WHAT HAPPENED IN THE TOWER 
 
 WET SHEETS AND FLOWING SEAS . . .213 
 
 THE BOAT IN THE PASS 223 
 
 LIKE A BIRD IN THE AIR 235 
 
 NUMBERED WEIGHED DIVIDED . . . 246 
 
 THREE LOVERS COME TO THE TOWER . . 261 
 
 DE VlTRE PAYS FOR HIS LIFE AND HONOUR . 274 
 
 GRAFTON WINS AND LOSES - 284 
 
 BOOK VI 
 " THE GREAT LORD HAWKE" 
 
 THE ADMIRAL GETS THE NEWS .... 2g8 
 
 CONFLANS IS OUT 311 
 
 THE ALARM IN THE MORNING .... 323 
 
 THE FRENCH WAIT BREAK FLY . . . 333 
 
 A STERN CHASE ON A LEE-SHORE . . . 344 
 THE BATTLE IN THE STORM . . . ,.356 
 
 THE SINISTER EFFACEMENT OF A SHIP . . 365 
 
 THE PROTECTOR OF ENGLAND . . . . 377 
 
 BOOK VII 
 "OUT OF THE DEEP" 
 
 WHAT WAR MEANT IN THAT DAY ON THE SEA 384 
 
 THE WOMAN BEREFT ...... 387 
 
 FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE 396 
 
 L'ENVOI FAREWELL ! ..'... 403 
 
 AFTERWORD . 
 
 407 
 
 Vlll
 
 THE QUIBERON TOUCH 
 
 BOOK I 
 
 AN IDYL OF BRITTANY 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 IN THE FOG OFF USHANT 
 
 FOR two days H. B. M. brig-of-war Boxer had 
 been groping about in a thick fog off the island of 
 Ushant on the Breton littoral. At least, in de 
 fault of astronomical observation, that is where 
 Lieutenant Philip Grafton, her commander, im 
 agined his ship to be. The Boxer was bound in 
 for Portsmouth, England, with despatches from 
 Admiral Boscawen, then commanding at Gibral 
 tar. She had made a quick passage from the 
 Straits and had met with no bad luck or misfor 
 tune until she had run into the fog near Belle Isle, 
 since which time she had been slowly working her 
 way northward, as the fitful breezes and mist- 
 hidden seas permitted. The despatches she bore 
 were of grave importance, and haste in their de 
 livery had been enjoined upon the young com 
 mander. Therefore, he chafed under the vexatious 
 delays with all the impatience of a sailor to whose 
 progress fogs and calms are obstacles well-nigh in 
 surmountable by his sea-philosophy.
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 To his impatience was added a vivid conscious 
 ness of probable and imminent danger, for the 
 Boxer was drifting about within easy striking dis 
 tance of the great French naval depot of Brest, 
 which was filled with the capital ships and cruisers 
 of the enemy; and the narrow seas, in the ab 
 sence of any English fleet nearer than Gibraltar, 
 swarmed with men-of-war coming and going. At 
 that time no English blockade had been estab 
 lished on the French seaboard, and the ships of the 
 " Well Beloved " King ran in and out of Brest 
 at their pleasure. 
 
 So long as the fog held, the English brig was 
 safe from observation and the danger of capture 
 by a ship of superior force was minimized; it 
 amounted to almost nothing in fact. But when 
 the fog lifted unless it were accompanied by a 
 good breeze, which would scarcely be likely at 
 that season of the year the Boxer would be at 
 the mercy of anything of sufficient size that hap 
 pened along. Though young in the service, Lieu 
 tenant Grafton had earned a well-deserved reputa 
 tion for daring and skill, and gladly would he 
 have welcomed an opportunity for a brush with a 
 cruiser of a force equal to, or even somewhat 
 greater than, his own. English ships then were 
 accustomed to giving odds; indeed, unless there 
 was some preponderance in force in favour of the 
 French, they took but little credit for a victory. 
 But a vessel which would at all match his own was 
 not likely to appear. 
 
 Grafton was one of the few American pro-
 
 In the Fog off Ushant 
 
 vincials in the Royal Naval Service. His father 
 had been in command of one of the armed vessels 
 of the squadron of the Colony of Massachusetts 
 which had done such remarkably good work in 
 Pepperell's successful campaign against Louis- 
 burg in 1745. As a reward for his services on that 
 occasion services by no means inconsiderable 
 stout old John Grafton had been given a com 
 mission in the king's navy, and was now a 
 rear - admiral, retired, living in the enjoyment 
 of his honours in his ancestral home in Massa 
 chusetts. His son, who had followed his father's 
 profession, also enjoyed the royal favour and had 
 risen rapidly through the various grades of the 
 naval service to the rank of lieutenant. He had, 
 in his brief career, given evidence of superior 
 ability, and it was thought with his influence 
 that he would eventually obtain high rank in the 
 service. 
 
 On the morning of the 3d of July, 1754, the 
 young captain was restlessly pacing the weather 
 side of the small quarter-deck of his brig in close 
 consultation with his first lieutenant, a kindred 
 spirit, named Stanhope. 
 
 "Dash me, John!" he exclaimed impatiently, 
 dropping the quarter-deck for the nonce, as they 
 were out of hearing of everybody except an old 
 seaman at the wheel, who had sailed with Graf- 
 ton's father from boyhood and had, naturally, at 
 tached himself to the fortunes of the son. " Dash 
 me, but this is vexing! Here we lie tossing about 
 like an empty bottle in these beastly swells and 
 
 3
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 not a thing to tell us where we are or where we 
 are drifting! " 
 
 " True, Captain Grafton," answered the lieu 
 tenant, giving his superior his courtesy title, " the 
 fog's so thick you could almost cut it. I can't 
 even see the heel of the bowsprit for'ard. Tis 
 most annoying." 
 
 " Ay, man, but while the weather holds it 
 gives us this one advantage: if we can't see, we 
 can't be seen, either. So long as there is no wind 
 I prefer this mist-blanket, for if the fog lifts and 
 the wind doesn't come, we're pretty sure to fall 
 foul of one of those Brest cruisers, which would be 
 too large for our little hooker. Damme, Stan 
 hope, I wish we had a tidy frigate under us! I'd 
 like nothing better than to swing into old Ports 
 mouth with a prize in tow. That'd look well in 
 the despatches, old boy, and we'd both get a step. 
 But, gad, this little tub of ours isa't a match for 
 anything that we are likely to run across. The 
 French have become so wary they don't seem to 
 send out any more small cruisers." 
 
 " The fact is," answered Stanhope, " they 
 haven't any more to send. Our ships have been 
 gobbling them up so, and " 
 
 " Hark! what's that?" cried Grafton, stopping 
 short and catching his subordinate by the arm. 
 "There!" pointing aft, "didn't you hear it? A 
 ship's bell!" 
 
 As he spoke the sound of a bell struck, in 
 couplets, four times, came faintly toward them 
 through the gray mist-laden air of the morning. 
 
 4
 
 In the Fog off Ushant 
 
 " Ay, surely, I heard it," answered Stanhope, 
 turning about, lifting his hand to his ear as he 
 spoke, and concentrating his attention in the di 
 rection of the sound. 
 
 " Where do you make it to come from? " 
 
 " Why, about there, dead astern, I should say, 
 sir," replied the other, pointing aft. 
 
 " Right O, Mr. Stanhope. Pass the word 
 quietly forward for the men to make no noise," 
 said the captain, turning to the midshipman on 
 watch. " It's ten chances to one yon's a French 
 ship." 
 
 Many of the crew had heard the sound of the 
 bell, and they stood listening with eager intent- 
 ness in various attitudes about the deck. In 
 obedience to their captain's direction, all of them 
 remained still and quiet, waiting his further or 
 ders. Presently a little puff of air fanned the 
 cheek of the watchful commander. 
 
 " The breeze is coming, I trust," he said to 
 Stanhope. " See! The fog thins yonder! 'Tis 
 lightening surely! Get the men to their quarters 
 without the drum, Mr. Stanhope; cast loose the 
 batteries and load with a round shot and a stand 
 of grape. Bear a hand! Lively, but be quiet with 
 it all! We may have need to show our teeth in a 
 moment. Ay, it clears! " 
 
 In a moment, as the lieutenant ran forward 
 giving the order, the deck of the brig was filled 
 with silent confusion. The men sprang like big 
 cats to their stations. The little guns of the ves 
 sel were soon cast loose and provided, and, having 
 
 5
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 been double-shotted, were run out again and a 
 good turn taken with the side-tackles to hold 
 them. The wind was coming stronger now, but 
 still in fitful puffs, from the southwest. Singu 
 larly enough, the fog seemed to be rising against 
 the wind. 
 
 Presently, by the watchful young command 
 er's direction, the sail-trimmers braced about the 
 yards to take advantage of the rising breeze, and 
 the Boxer began slowly to forge through the 
 water. It was the first time in several days that 
 she had enjoyed good steerage way, and all hands 
 watched her travel with feelings of great relief. 
 Before she had gathered much way, however, they 
 heard again the sound which had awakened them 
 to action. Five bells this time came floating up 
 from the southward as before. On this occasion 
 the sound was clearer and more distinct, showing 
 that the approaching vessel had drawn nearer. 
 The deep quality of the tones denoted that the 
 bell was a large one. 
 
 " By gad, Stanhope, that bell doesn't swing 
 on anything under a heavy frigate," said Grafton; 
 " we're in for it this time unless we can make 
 some distance with this brisking breeze while the 
 fog holds. What's she making? " 
 
 "About two knots, I think, sir," answered 
 Stanhope, looking over the side at the sluggish 
 water slowly drawing past ; " maybe two and a 
 half, no more." 
 
 " 'Tis a cursed slow boat; but British ships are 
 not built for running, they leave that for t'other 
 
 6
 
 In the Fog off Ushant 
 
 fellows. I wish now the fog would hold a little 
 longer. Keep your weather eye lifting there, 
 Jabez," continued Grafton, turning to old Slocum, 
 who still stood at the wheel; " don't lose a bit 
 of it." 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir! " replied the old Yankee, shift 
 ing his quid as he gave a careful squint at the 
 top-sails, which the wind was scarcely strong 
 enough to fill. " I won't lose none o't, yer hon 
 our." 
 
 For a few anxious moments the brig held on. 
 Presently, in spite of their desires, the two officers 
 perceived that the fog was indeed going. How 
 ever, there was nothing to be done. It was still 
 too thick to see anything distinctly, so they held 
 on steadily. At eleven o'clock, from the other 
 ship, they heard again the sound of the bell, which 
 now rang six times. She, too, had been feeling 
 the wind, and was evidently edging along in their 
 wake, which was pure chance, for they had given 
 her no sign of their presence. 
 
 "Confound the luck!" said Grafton; "what 
 ever she is, she's right after us. By the sound, I 
 should say we haven't gained a fathom!" 
 
 " Lost, rather," suggested Stanhope. " This 
 brig's no goer at all in this sort of breeze, and it's 
 so fitful no one can tell " 
 
 " By heaven, the wind has shifted again! 
 We're aback! Shift the helm there! All hands to 
 the lee braces!" cried Grafton, as the wind sud 
 denly swung about and took the ship aback. 
 
 Fortunately it was not blowing strong enough 
 7
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 to do any damage, although the wind was increas 
 ing in force with every moment. But before the 
 Boxer paid off, the fog suddenly lifted. It was 
 brushed away from them as if it had been swept 
 aside by a gigantic hand. The gray mist in front 
 of them gave place to radiant golden light. The 
 tossing white-capped waves, instead of showing 
 the sickly leaden colour of the past few days, were 
 thrown into brilliant blue by the irradiating sun. 
 The brightness was almost dazzling. There did 
 not seem to be a single cloud above them. 
 
 " Land ho! " shouted one of the men on the 
 forecastle, as the mist disappeared. 
 
 There before them, and scarcely a mile away, 
 rose the grim cliffs of the forbidding island of 
 Ushant. They could see the breakers crashing 
 and churning in sheets of foam about its feet. 
 
 "All hands to the lee braces!" cried Grafton 
 promptly. " Starboard your helm! Flow the head- 
 sheets, there! Haul over that spanker-sheet. We 
 must get away from that, Stanhope! " 
 
 " Sail ho! " cried one of the after-guard at the 
 same instant, as the handy little brig spun around 
 on her heel and thrust her blunt nose up toward 
 the wind on the port tack. 
 
 There, scarcely two cables' length away from 
 them, they saw the bows of an immense ship, 
 ghostlike, come shoving through the fog, which 
 still enshrouded that quarter of the sea.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE SMASHING OF THE BRIG 
 
 " 'Tis a ship of the line! " shouted Stanhope, 
 who immediately caught sight of it. 
 
 Grafton slewed himself about on his heel and 
 rapidly took in the situation. 
 
 "And a Frenchman, by heaven!" he roared. 
 " No English ship has bows like that! Break out 
 the stuns'ls, Mr. Stanhope, we may need them 
 presently/' 
 
 At the same instant they were seen from the 
 ship of the line. 
 
 "Ship ahoy! What ship is that?" came up 
 the wind from the French vessel. 
 
 " We'll soon show you," said Grafton, under 
 his breath. " Man the port battery, lads! Jump 
 lively! We must escape if we can! " 
 
 The two ships were sailing at right angles to 
 each other now, one going free and the other just 
 coming by the wind on the port tack. They were 
 so near each other that the men clustered forward 
 on the top-gallant forecastle of the French ship 
 could easily be made out. The fog was going as if 
 by magic. 
 
 A noble picture the huge liner made, under her 
 
 2 9
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 great top-sails, with her courses in the brails and her 
 light sails hanging by the clew-lines. They had 
 suspected nothing on her and were entirely unpre 
 pared for what followed. All was ready on the 
 Boxer now, and she was ranging ahead. 
 
 " Stand by! " roared Grafton, as they passed 
 squarely across the Frenchman's bow. " Fire! " 
 
 The eight six-pounders on the port side of the 
 brig saluted the liner with an impudent broadside. 
 
 " Well done, my boys! Now then, hard up with 
 the helm! " shouted Grafton. " Hands by the 
 weather braces! Flow the spanker-sheets! Lively, 
 lads!" 
 
 Before the men on the ship of the line had recov 
 ered from the astonishment inspired by Grafton's 
 audacity, the Boxer swung around and ran off free, 
 again heading toward Ushant. For a few moments 
 there was no little confusion on the French ship. 
 Her jib-stay had been cut, the sail unsupported was 
 dragging in the water. Rents appeared in the fore 
 sail, and parted shrouds here and there showed that 
 the well-aimed discharge had done good service, 
 although it had no effect on the heavy scantling 
 and timbers of the liner. But no material damage, 
 of course, had been or could be effected by the six- 
 pound guns of a little three-hundred-ton brig 
 against a French seventy-four. Still, the confusion 
 consequent upon her intrepid attack enabled the 
 brig to gain a considerable lead. It was necessary 
 for him to get some distance away from his pur 
 suer before Grafton could come by the wind again, 
 in order to weather the western point of Ushant; 
 
 10
 
 The Smashing of the Brig 
 
 which, to anticipate, he presently succeeded in 
 doing. 
 
 In a short time, however painfully short for 
 the pursued the liner, emulating the movements 
 of the English cruiser, got the wind on her quarter 
 and commenced bowling along after the brig. 
 Her nimble crew had set sail after sail on her lofty 
 spars, and she swept along in the bright sunny morn 
 ing a towering and splendid picture of sea power 
 and sea beauty. She had been wonderfully well 
 handled for a Frenchman, and the evolutions were 
 as smartly done as they could have been by a crack 
 English crew then the best sailors in the world. 
 And as the English brig, having run free as long as 
 she dared, at last bore up, her gigantic pursuer 
 promptly did the same. 
 
 " They may talk as they please about the frog- 
 eaters not being seamen," said Grafton to the 
 young officers congregated about him on the quar 
 ter-deck; " the man that handles that ship doesn't 
 need to take lessons from anybody. Wheel, there! 
 Edge up into the wind, will you? See how she fol 
 lows us, gentlemen! She gains on us hand over 
 fist! See how she comes down! Bring up the 
 despatches, Mr. Stanhope, and have them ready to 
 heave overboard; they mustn't get them if we are 
 captured! Ah! They're giving us a taste of their 
 metal at last. Steady now, keep her up to it! 
 Luff her hard!" 
 
 As he spoke the line-of-battle ship suddenly 
 yawed, a puff of smoke broke out forward as her 
 bow-chaser bore and a shot from a thirty-two- 
 
 ii
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 pounder came hurtling through the air at the brig. 
 Fortunately it missed her. 
 
 " Shall we make any reply, sir? " asked Stan 
 hope. 
 
 "Nonsense!" replied Grafton. "We haven't 
 a gun on board that could carry half the distance. 
 No, hold on as we are. I don't think she'll fire 
 again. She's overhauling us so rapidly that there 
 is no use of their damaging their prize." 
 
 They watched the chasing ship carefully for a 
 few moments in gloomy silence. There was no 
 escape for them apparently. 
 
 " Now, I have an idea," burst out Grafton at 
 last. " If it fails, I guess we are good for a cruise 
 on shore in one of Johnnie's prisons. Slocum, let 
 her go off a bit more, now. I think we've enough 
 offing to weather Ushant, with something to spare, 
 and I want monsieur to get well to windward of us. 
 Stanhope, yon's a noble ship. We can outfight 
 these Frenchmen, but we can't outbuild them. The 
 best ships in our navy are those captured from King 
 Louis." 
 
 " What's the use of our bothering to build 
 ships if the French will build them for us? " asked 
 the matter-of-fact and practical Stanhope. "All 
 we've got to do is to go out and take 'em." 
 
 " We won't take that one, though." 
 
 " No, sir, we won't," answered Stanhope, sigh 
 ing over the gloomy prospect. 
 
 " I wish to God we had the old Torbay under us, 
 then we'd not show yon fellow our heels but our 
 teeth, hey, Stanhope? " exclaimed the captain. 
 
 12
 
 The Smashing of the Brig 
 
 " Ay, sir; and with old Hawke in command- 
 
 " No, man, "answered the young captain prompt 
 ly; " I'd want to command her myself. I warrant 
 that, with you to second me, we would give a good 
 account of the gentleman yonder! See how he 
 overhauls us! If he should yaw now and give us a 
 broadside, I am afraid it would be all over with us. 
 Look, how he is eating up to windward of us too! 
 What a tub this is!" 
 
 "Ay, he slips along like a yacht. We've no show 
 at all. It's all up with us, I'm afraid," answered 
 Stanhope. 
 
 " I don't quite give up the game yet. We'll 
 have one more try at a run presently. If he does 
 the right thing, then we're lost ; if not, I think we'll 
 make it." 
 
 11 You can count on a seaman like the man hand 
 ling that ship doing the right thing, sure." 
 
 " Yes, I fear so. Still we can but try! h 
 
 Meanwhile old Jabez had been steering the brig 
 with consummate seamanship. With every ap 
 pearance of endeavouring to hold her close to the 
 wind, he had skilfully allowed her to fall off, little by 
 little, until she was quite perceptibly to leeward of 
 the French ship. Grafton judged that now or never 
 things were opportune for his daring attempt. 
 
 " Send the men to the starboard battery, Mr. 
 Stanhope," -he said quietly, as he realized that he 
 had approached the supreme moment, and it was 
 about time to try his coup, or give over the attempt 
 ?nd give up the ship. " Get the stuns'ls ready 
 for setting and see that the gear is all clear. I want 
 
 13
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 smart work from the sail-trimmers, now! Slocum, 
 stand by that helm and mind the orders! Bid the 
 men train their guns aft, Stanhope, and fire when 
 I give the word. Now, then! Up with the helm! 
 Over with it! Hard-a-weather! Tend the after- 
 braces! Hands ready! Round in forward, flatten 
 in the head-sheets! So! Stand by with the star 
 board battery! Now! Fire! Let her have it, 
 men! Sway away with those stuns'ls! Steady 
 with the helm! Quick, for God's sake! Well 
 done, all! " 
 
 Once more the eight six-pounders barked out. 
 In a cloud of her own smoke the Boxer rounded on 
 her heel again and, bringing the wind aft again, 
 darted away at right angles to her former course. 
 Covered with stuns'ls alow and aloft, she leaped 
 along at a great pace, gaining distance with every 
 moment. Were they to succeed in escaping? 
 
 But the captain of the liner had foreseen the 
 skilful endeavour. A less able seaman might have 
 attempted to emulate the Englishman's motions and 
 followed on the brig's heels; a less thoughtful com 
 mander would not have been ready for the only 
 move which would have stopped the daring ma 
 noeuvre. With proper judgment, he chose to crush 
 the audacious Englishman with his mighty battery. 
 
 In spite of the promptness with which Grafton's 
 orders had been carried out, and the advantage 
 gained thereby, the brig was still within easy range 
 of all but the lightest guns of the French ship. 
 Since the weather was mild, it permitted the lower 
 deck ports to be opened and her heaviest guns to
 
 The Smashing of the Brig 
 
 be used. As the Boxer presented her stern to her 
 huge antagonist, the latter was suddenly wreathed 
 with fire and smoke. The thunderous roar of her 
 discharge could have been heard for miles. Her 
 captain took no chance, every gun that bore was 
 discharged at the doomed vessel. 
 
 A tempest of iron came hurtling aboard the 
 brig. She was like an egg-shell under a trip-ham 
 mer. From a trim and saucy little vessel she was 
 reduced in the twinkling of an eye to a wreck. The 
 main-mast was carried away a few feet above the 
 deck, the foretop-mast was hanging up and down 
 the foremast, nearly every shroud and stay had 
 been parted. The stern of the brig had been 
 beaten in. Her boats were cut to pieces, and the 
 decks were filled with dead and wounded, poor 
 Stanhope among the former a round shot had 
 taken off his head. Old Jabez, unhurt, still clasped 
 the wheel. The foresail, though almost cut to rib 
 bons, still held a little wind, and the brig wallowed 
 slowly ahead through the water. 
 
 " Good God! " exclaimed Grafton, who had 
 come off scatheless, dazed at the failure of his effort 
 and the deadly price he had paid so fruitlessly, 
 "how horrible!" 
 
 It had been a gallant attempt. Indeed, the 
 only possibility of escape had been that he had tried. 
 It had failed owing to the preparedness and good 
 judgment of the French captain. There were not ten 
 sailors in France who could have done so well as he. 
 With almost any one else opposing him, Grafton 
 might have escaped. But now his brig was a wreck 
 
 15
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 beneath him. There was nothing left for him but 
 to surrender. Throwing his weighted bag of de 
 spatches overboard, he drew a handkerchief from 
 his pocket and waved it toward his enemy. 
 
 Seeing the hopeless and helpless condition of 
 her quarry, the French ship of the line swept grace 
 fully up into the wind by the side of the broken 
 brig. Her way was checked, her ponderous yards 
 swung, and she hove-to a short distance off. A 
 magnificent picture she presented, with her frown 
 ing tiers of guns, her lofty pyramids of sails, her 
 decks crowded with brilliantly uniformed officers. 
 
 The French could plainly see that there was no 
 boat left on the Boxer; therefore, in a few moments, 
 a heavy cutter was swung from the davits of the 
 liner and lowered into the water. Presently an 
 officer, attended by a surgeon and a surgeon's 
 mate, stepped on the deck of the brig. 
 
 " You speak French, monsieur? " asked the 
 officer of Grafton, who stood in the gangway to re 
 ceive him. 
 
 " Yes, sir," answered the American, bowing. 
 
 " And you are ? " 
 
 " Lieutenant Philip Grafton, commanding his 
 Britannic Majesty's late brig Boxer. And you 
 arc ? " 
 
 " Lieutenant St. Andre du Verger, of his Most 
 Christian Majesty's ship-of-the-line Le Thesee, 
 commanded by M. le Comte de Kersaint de Ker- 
 guelen," 
 
 " I am at your service, monsieur. The fortune 
 of war has made me your prisoner." 
 
 16
 
 The Smashing of the Brig 
 
 " M. de Kersaint desires that you repair on 
 board his ship at once, monsieur." 
 
 " Willingly, M. du Verger," said Grafton, striv 
 ing gallantly to hide his sadness at this bitter end 
 ing of his cruise. " At your orders. Will you see 
 to the poor fellows I leave here? " 
 
 " With pleasure, M. le Capitaine. I have 
 brought a surgeon and a surgeon's mate for the 
 purpose."
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 ENEMIES ARE FRIENDS 
 
 THE change from the broken and shattered 
 brig to the spacious and magnificent ship of the 
 line was startling. The latter was a brand-new ship 
 fresh from the ways. Every improvement which 
 the most skilled naval architects and ship-builders 
 of the day could devise and France easily led all 
 nations in the firre art of naval construction at that 
 time had been lavished upon Le Thesee. The 
 practical ability of the designers, exhibited in many 
 novel and useful contrivances, had been re-enforced 
 and not obscured by a lavish display of polished 
 metal work, ornamental fittings, and wood-carving, 
 which would have better suited a royal yacht than a 
 vessel of war. 
 
 Every gun on the ship was of brass, and pol 
 ished until it shone like new gold in the sunlight. 
 Everything was spotlessly clean; and, in marked 
 contrast to the usual run of French ships, the crew 
 of this one was quiet and orderly. Efficiency was 
 suggested by everything about her. Contrary to 
 the usual practice of men-of-war in that period, the 
 seamen were clad in neat uniforms of white duck, 
 while the officers, of course, were resplendent in the 
 
 18
 
 Enemies are Friends 
 
 blue and scarlet and gold lace of the French ma 
 rine service. It was evident that not only was a 
 sailor in command but a disciplinarian as well. 
 
 As Grafton came through the gangway he was 
 met by an officer and conducted aft to the high 
 poop deck, upon which a brilliant group of officers 
 were collected about a tall, splendid-looking man 
 in the prime of life, who was evidently the com 
 mander of the ship. Grafton stepped toward him, 
 bowed gracefully, and then, extending his sword, 
 remarked in excellent French, of which he was 
 luckily a thorough master: 
 
 " The fortune of war, monsieur, has made my 
 small vessel the prize of your magnificent ship." 
 
 " You are a bold man, young sir, and in many 
 instances perhaps most your gallant attempt to 
 escape by running off before the wind would have 
 been successful," returned the French captain mag 
 nanimously. Then, touching the hilt of the young 
 American's sword, he added graciously, bowing in 
 his turn, " Retain your sword, monsieur, I should 
 be loath indeed to deprive so brave a man of the 
 weapon which he has shown he knows how to wear 
 so worthily. Sang dioii! " he added, relapsing into 
 the patois of his native province, " 'twas an impu 
 dent thing, sir, to slap us in the face like that when 
 we first caught sight of you, and then try to run 
 for it! But there are few keels laid down that Le 
 Thesee can not overhaul, I think. Hey, mes 
 sieurs? " he questioned, turning to his officers, his 
 remark being received with acclamations of assent. 
 " Young sir," he continued, addressing Grafton 
 
 19
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 once more, " will you give me the name of your 
 brig? " 
 
 " H. B. M. brig Boxer at least she was his this 
 morning. She is yours now, monsieur." 
 
 " Where from and whither bound, monsieur? " 
 
 " From Gibraltar to Portsmouth." 
 
 " On what errand?" 
 
 " With despatches, sir." 
 
 "Where are they?" 
 
 " Overboard and sunk, sir." 
 
 " Ha! And what of the fleet of Monsieur Bos- 
 cawen? " 
 
 " I can tell you nothing of that, sir." 
 
 " Nor as to the contents of the despatches? " 
 
 " Certainly not, sir! " 
 
 " Humph! Your name, young sir, and rank." 
 
 " Philip Grafton, monsieur, a lieutenant in 
 H. B. M. Navy, lately First of the Torbay, ship of 
 the line, and more recently commanding the 
 Boxer." 
 
 "Grafton!" exclaimed the other surprised, 
 " Are you an Englishman? " 
 
 " No, monsieur," answered the young officer 
 promptly and proudly, " I am an American. I was 
 born in Massachusetts." 
 
 " And you are the son of ? " 
 
 " Admiral John Grafton, monsieur, who com 
 manded the colonial armed ship Shirley." 
 
 " At the siege of Louisburg in 1745? " 
 
 " The same, sir." 
 
 " Did your father ever tell you of the engage 
 ment he and one or two other private armed ships 
 
 20
 
 Enemies are Friends . 
 
 had with a French frigate seeking to enter the 
 harbour? " 
 
 " La Renomme? " interrupted Grafton in great- 
 surprise at the other's knowledge. " Certain 
 ly, monsieur, often. 'Twas that fight, indeed, 
 that won his King's approval and gained him 
 the commission which was in turn passed on 
 to me." 
 
 " My faith, sir! " exclaimed the French captain, 
 smiling, " 'twas a hot fight indeed! I never have 
 seen a better. He well deserved the commission 
 he won. No wonder that you did not quail before 
 a ship of the line, young man! You have in you 
 the mettle of your father." 
 
 " Did you know my father, sir? " asked Grafton 
 in great surprise. 
 
 " I have heard him speak from the iron throats 
 of his guns, sir." 
 
 " Then you are ? " 
 
 " I was the captain of La Renomme." 
 
 " And your name is ? " 
 
 " Guy de Caetnampreu, Comte de Kersaint de 
 Kerguelen, Capitaine de Vaisseau of His Most 
 Christian Majesty Louis XV, whom God protect, 
 and very much at your service, monsieur. Here is 
 no case of prisoner and enemy, gentlemen. The 
 father fought me, I befriend the son. Is it not just, 
 messieurs? " asked Kersaint turning to his officers 
 once more. 
 
 It was Grafton who answered: 
 
 " 'Tis more than justice, Monsieur le Comte, 
 'tis kindness indeed! " 
 
 21
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 " N'importe, monsieur; I would that I could 
 give you back your ship, but that, of course, is im 
 possible. Nevertheless, your captivity shall be 
 made as light as possible. We are bound in for 
 Brest, and this gentleman here," indicating an old 
 man in rich civilian dress, who had surveyed the 
 scene with interest, " is my most noble kinsman, the 
 Marquis de Chabot-Rohan. He will, I am sure, as 
 my prospective sailing thence in a few days debars 
 me from keeping you with me or extending you the 
 hospitality of my poor house take you into his own 
 chateau until you are exchanged. 'Twill be a 
 pleasant prison, sir, and there grows a wild Breton 
 rose within the walls. Is it not so, Monsieur le 
 Comte? " 
 
 " As to the rose, I can not say. Monsieur Graf- 
 ton may find it thorny; but as to receiving him, cer 
 tainly, de Kersaint," responded the old man just 
 addressed by the captain. " I have a soft spot in 
 my heart for Americans, as you know, since my only 
 son honoured himself by marrying a daughter of 
 Virginia a land of brave men, messieurs, and fair 
 women. Helas! " 
 
 " Monsieur le Marquis," quickly answered Graf- 
 ton, who had not spent some years of his life at 
 Court for nothing, " I thank you for your hospital 
 ity and I congratulate you upon the -source from 
 which it flows. I accept it gladly roses and thorns 
 as well." 
 
 " Monsieur, you honour me by your acceptance. 
 As to the rose, Monsieur de Kersaint speaks with 
 the romantic license of Brittany. 'Tis but a child, 
 
 22
 
 Enemies are Friends 
 
 monsieur, my little grand-daughter. I am the 
 thorns a dull old set surely," added the old man 
 smiling rather grimly. 
 
 " Faith, de Chabot, he who would fain pluck 
 your rose will find you sharp enough, I'll warrant. 
 Morbleu, you haven't forgot that parry and return 
 you taught me when I was a boy and you a young 
 soldier. Ah, messieurs, if any of you seek speedy 
 gentle death you may easily find it before the Mar 
 quis' point " 
 
 " Gentlemen," smiled the old man, " here is no 
 thought of death, but the tale of a little girl. Mon 
 sieur Graft on " 
 
 " There are roses in England and America, 
 Monsieur le Marquis ay, and thorns too. And 
 no true man was ever deterred from wearing one 
 for fear of the other. But, mistake me not, I'll 
 not seek to pluck your Breton flower," replied the 
 American, entering into the spirit of the jest. " I 
 shall be your prisoner and " 
 
 " Say my guest, monsieur. But enough," said 
 the old marquis, frowning slightly. " As to the 
 rose, we have carried the pleasantry too far al 
 ready, messieurs. Let us have no more of it. Mon 
 sieur Grafton, direct your private baggage to be 
 brought to the ship here; we will leave for my cha 
 teau on our arrival this evening." 
 
 " Monsieur de Kersaint," said Grafton, " will 
 you add to the obligations under which you have 
 laid me, by giving orders that my poor men, the 
 wounded, I- mean, are to be well cared for, and then 
 have my private baggage sent off to Le Thesee? 
 
 23
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 My steward, who is aboard the Boxer, will attend 
 to it." 
 
 " Your men shall be attended to as if they be 
 longed to me," responded the French captain gra 
 ciously, " and your private belongings secured. 
 Meanwhile, will you step into my cabin that we 
 may discuss further our common interests and 
 friendships? Monsieur St. Laurent," he added, 
 turning to his executive officer, who held the rank 
 of Capitaine de fregate, " will you throw a prize crew 
 on the doughty little Boxer a hard hitter indeed 
 and bid her follow us into Brest under a jury-rig 
 when she can. On second thought, monsieur, lie 
 by her for a few hours until she is fit to go ahead. 
 We would better convoy her in. I should not like 
 to lose her for all she is but a small prize." 
 
 24
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE GARDEN AND THE ROSE 
 
 THE Chateau de Josselin, a place not unknown 
 to history, lay hard by the sea-shore a few miles 
 from the town of Brest toward which it turned its 
 landward side. It was a building of great antiq 
 uity and had been in the possession of the family of 
 de Rohan from feudal times. One face looked sea 
 ward over the wild crags, where the stormy waves 
 of the Bay of Biscay broke in ceaseless onslaught, 
 beating themselves into the white foam of sea agony 
 upon the stern shores. 
 
 At the foot of the keep or principal tower, 
 which was built upon the sheer edge of a precipi 
 tous headland, there was a deep indentation in the 
 cliffs, which, if one possessed sufficient skill and 
 knowledge to thread the narrow passage twisting 
 between the roaring breakers, afforded a safe har 
 borage for boats and small coasting vessels. It 
 had been long unused, of course, owing to the spa 
 cious harbour of Brest close at hand, but in old days 
 it had been a favoured haven of the adventurous 
 lords of Rohan and sometimes of their enemies 
 as well. 
 
 Landward the main chateau overlooked a singu- 
 3 25
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 larly pleasant garden filled with ancient fruit and 
 shade trees, the whole inclosed by a high wall from 
 which, and better still from the high tower, a full 
 view of Brest, its fortifications, its naval station, 
 its harbour, and its shipping could be obtained. It 
 was to this castle that Philip Grafton was conducted 
 upon the evening of the arrival of Le Thesee in the 
 harbour. 
 
 The Marquis de Chabot-Rohan, or, to give him 
 his familiar title, de Chabot, the heir and successor 
 to the dignities of the de Rohans in those parts, 
 and consequently the master of rich and extensive 
 possessions, kept up a princely estate in the old 
 chateau, and it pleased him still to perpetuate the 
 ancient usages and customs of his house so far as 
 he could. The castle itself seemed to be maintained 
 as a mediaeval fortress might have been. The ditch 
 surrounding it on the landward side, instead of 
 being dry and grass-grown, as was the custom, was 
 kept well filled with water; the drawbridge the 
 sole means of crossing the moat was raised and 
 lowered at appointed hours; and close watch and 
 ward were kept by the feudal retainers of the house 
 at the gateway and on the walls. To seaward the 
 walls were so high and so strong that the castle, 
 placed on the very edge of the beetling cliffs, was 
 believed to be impregnable. 
 
 Lord of the high, the low, and the middle jus 
 tice, the marquis endeavoured to continue and ex 
 emplify the traditions of the old feudal barons, 
 whose former powers and antique privileges in most 
 cases had been abrogated by the overwhelming ab- 
 
 26
 
 The Garden and the Rose 
 
 solutism and the resolute determination of Louis 
 XIV. But this was Brittany, the land of the past, 
 the oldest corner in Europe. Things moved slowly 
 in that province. The King was loved more and 
 feared less there than in any other part of France. 
 Conservative, tenacious, yet loyal, the people could 
 not be shaken from their ancient faiths, nor moved 
 to abandon their customs, hallowed by long an 
 tiquity, because the rest of the world had forgotten 
 them. There the sixteenth century, its ideas and 
 ideals remained unshattered by the iconoclasm of 
 the eighteenth. 
 
 Furthermore, de Chabot's great wealth, his 
 princely connections, his wide influence and his dis 
 tinguished services for he had been a soldier 
 whose name was associated with some of the great 
 est victories of his warlike monarch had insured 
 him an indulgence which had sufficed to prevent 
 any interruption of his habits, and to preclude any 
 very strict inquiry into his course. In short, he 
 was tacitly allowed to live as it pleased him. He 
 was an old man with but little time left him, and it 
 would all soon end at best. 
 
 His only son, the young Comte de Rohan and 
 save de Kersaint almost his only relative had mar 
 ried Mistress Anne Page of Virginia. The young 
 man had been a naval officer whose ship had been 
 stationed upon the coast of North America, where 
 he had greatly enjoyed the spontaneous and warm 
 hearted hospitality of the colonists of the famous 
 Old Dominion. Carried away by her charms of 
 mind and person, and without waiting for the con- 
 
 27
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 sent of his father, he straightway married this 
 young woman from the New World whose beauty 
 and character had made so deep an impression upon 
 him; and he had brought her to France in his own 
 frigate. 
 
 His father, at first highly incensed at what he 
 deemed a mesalliance, had sternly refused to receive 
 him; but the tales of the beauty of his unwelcome 
 daughter-in-law, which were poured in his ear by 
 those who fell under the sway of her loveliness, and 
 certain substantial evidences of the great estates in 
 the New World belonging to the honourable family 
 from which she sprang, and to which she was sole 
 heiress, which his son had found means to bring to 
 his attention, had first awakened his curiosity and 
 finally mollified his wrath. He had at last con 
 sented to an interview, and thereafter had promptly 
 succumbed to the charms of the winsome and beau 
 tiful American as completely as had his son. Re 
 signing his commission in the French navy the 
 young count with his wife, overjoyed at the rec 
 onciliation, had returned to his father's house and, 
 as he fondly hoped, settled down to years of do 
 mestic bliss and tranquility. 
 
 There a daughter, the first and only child of 
 this strange union, was born; but the life that 
 came was paid for by the life that went, for when 
 the child was but a few days old, the young mother 
 died. The inconsolable young count did not long 
 survive the loss of his adored wife. To distract 
 his grief he resumed his service in the French navy, 
 receiving his old rank through his father's influ- 
 
 28
 
 The Garden and the Rose 
 
 ence, and was shortly after wrecked and lost with 
 his ship on a voyage to the French East Indies, 
 while his daughter was still an infant. 
 
 It was a crushing blow to the old man, but with 
 Spartan resolution he bore up under it and turned 
 to his little grand-daughter for comfort and conso 
 lation. As the days sped away the child intrenched 
 herself more and more in the old man's heart. He 
 withdrew himself from the world in which he had 
 been so great and gay a figure and devoted him 
 self assiduously to her welfare. 
 
 Little Anne, Countess de Rohan in her own 
 right, lived alone with her grandfather in the old 
 Chateau de Josselin. Save when unavoidably called 
 away on business connected with the management 
 of his great estates he rarely left her. He watched 
 over her with the solicitude of a mother and the de 
 votion of a lover. The withered old man grew to 
 love her as few children were then loved certainly 
 with such a feeling as few Frenchmen of rank at 
 that day ever exhibited toward a child. She was 
 the sole heiress to all his possessions, the last 
 of that branch of her ancient house, and he lavished 
 upon her a depth of tenderness and a wealth of 
 affection which surrounded her with an atmosphere 
 of adoration. 
 
 Loath to part with her, instead of committing 
 her education to one of the great conventual 
 schools, as was the custom among the noblesse of 
 the country, he supervised it himself. Her grow 
 ing mind afforded him new food for wonder daily, 
 her present engrossed his mind, her future filled his 
 
 29
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 dreams. As he was one of the most accomplished 
 gentlemen of his time, and had been a man of the 
 world in the highest and best sense of the word, 
 she received such training as had not often been 
 bestowed upon a young demoiselle of France. 
 
 In but one particular, indeed, the old man's 
 scheme of education, in the carrying out of which 
 he was assisted by the best masters that money 
 could procure, might have been deemed faulty. 
 The marquis, as he grew old, lived more and more 
 in the past and as he went backward in time he 
 took the little maid back with him. 
 
 The same strange fancy which led him to re 
 store mediaeval usages and customs as far as pos 
 sible, and which made his favourite study the an 
 cient tales of chivalry, the stories of the hardy 
 adventurous knights like the great du Guesclin, 
 some of whose blood indeed ran in his veins, gave 
 an unusual turn to the thoughts of his grand-daugh 
 ter. She, like him, was steeped in the romantic 
 lore of ancient days. The traditions of their an 
 cient house, the deeds of daring, devotion, and cour 
 age which had made the de Rohans illustrious, were 
 as familiar to her as fairy tales and childish rhymes 
 are to other children. Her own maidenly vision 
 dimly comprehended the future through the win 
 dows of the past. 
 
 Knowing nothing of the life of the world 
 around her, she gazed from the tower windows 
 of the castle over the leagues of tossing sea, and 
 dreamed vague dreams of shining knights coming 
 from far away to break lance and spear in her 
 
 30
 
 The Garden and the Rose 
 
 honour; to crown her Queen of Love and Beauty, 
 after deeds of daring to which the minstrels and 
 troubadours would give as wide a fame as they 
 would spread the story of her virtues and beauty. 
 The world of her mind was very different from the 
 real one in which by-and-bye she must needs live, 
 but no one had ever told her of the difference. And 
 this creature of quaint contradictions was yet but 
 a child after all, more often playing with dolls in 
 the intervals between her studies and her dreams 
 than anything else. The dolls at least were real, 
 and though she should have outgrown them, in 
 stinctively, in default of better things, she still clung 
 to them. She was romance wanting a touch; the 
 sleeping beauty, expectant even in dreams; the 
 potential flower waiting the kiss of the sun. 
 
 It was to this ancient chateau with its sugges 
 tion of history, its atmosphere of romance, and its 
 Breton wild rose, scarcely reaching the dignity of 
 a bud yet, but still inclosed in the soft calyx of inno 
 cence and inexperience, that Grafton was brought 
 at the request of de Kersaint through the complai 
 sance of the marquis. 
 
 It was evening when the two gentlemen, at 
 tended by a numerous retinue, rode up to the great 
 gateway. The few miles that intervened between 
 Brest and the Chateau de Josselin had been passed 
 in animated conversation, and the acquaintance 
 which had begun on the decks of Le Thesee under 
 such strange auspices, had ripened into a pleasant 
 intimacy. The dashing young American sailor had 
 been attracted by the evidences of culture, the keen
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 but kindly humour, the rich stores of knowledge, 
 possessed by the marquis; and the latter had been 
 touched by the pleasant deference and open frank 
 ness, as well as the shrewd common sense and grace 
 ful manner, of his young companion. 
 
 When they arrived before the gate of the castle 
 as the sun had set the drawbridge was raised. As 
 they waited for it to be lowered in answer to the 
 marquis' hail, the young man remarked that it all 
 seemed quite mediaeval, fitting in appropriately with 
 the wild surroundings and the barren shore. 
 
 " Monsieur," answered the marquis gravely, as 
 if fearing a covert jest, " I keep, so far as I can, the 
 state of my forefathers. This is my domain," he 
 continued, as they rode through the ranks of the 
 guards who had been paraded underneath the great 
 gateway, and who were dressed in quaint outlandish 
 costumes which reminded Grafton of the pictures 
 in some old book, " this is my castle, these my 
 retainers. Here my will is law. Within these 
 walls I am supreme, saving only the feudal rights of 
 my over-lord and master, His Most Christian 
 Majesty, whom God preserve. While you are here, 
 monsieur, the castle is yours. You are free to 
 come and go where you will within the walls, and 
 should you not attempt to pass the gate, you will 
 find nothing to remind you that you are a prisoner. 
 So securely guarded is my castle, Monsieur Grafton, 
 that I do not even ask you for your parole. You 
 hear, Jean-Renaud? " he added, turning to the ser 
 geant of the guard, " Monsieur Grafton is an Amer 
 ican gentleman who honours our poor house by 
 
 32
 
 The Garden and the Rose 
 
 accepting its hospitality. Mark you and you too, 
 monsieur, pray give heed he is free to go any 
 where but over the walls or through the gate. See 
 to it, Jean-Renaud, that in no case is he allowed to 
 escape. You will forgive the necessity for these 
 orders, Monsieur Grafton, but I am responsible for 
 you. The chatelaine? " he added, turning again 
 to Jean-Renaud, " where is she? " 
 
 " She has retired, Monsieur le Marquis," an 
 swered Jean-Renaud, " not knowing that you were 
 to be here this evening. Shall I go ? " 
 
 " It is my wish that she be not disturbed, Jean- 
 Renaud. Come, captain, let us enter. Supper and 
 a bottle of wine after our long ride will doubtless 
 be as acceptable to you as to me. Allow me to pre 
 cede you, monsieur only to show you the way 
 in these old halls, of course." 
 
 After partaking of a generous repast in the an 
 cient banqueting-hall of the castle, Grafton, now at 
 tended by Jean-Renaud, was shown to a huge room, 
 richly and comfortably furnished, the windows of 
 which overlooked the garden. He was informed 
 that this was to be his own chamber during his 
 sojourn at the castle. Tired out by the trying 
 experiences of the day, and invited thereto by a 
 great old-fashioned, comfortable-looking bed, the 
 young man immediately retired and soon sank to 
 rest. 
 
 33
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE CRADLE SONG" 
 
 " You say we have a visitor, Josette? " 
 
 " Yes, mademoiselle, so Jean-Renaud says." 
 
 " An English gentleman? " 
 
 " Jean-Renaud thinks so, because he certainly 
 is not French." 
 
 " Yet you say he spoke French to Jean-Renaud 
 when he put him to bed? " 
 
 " Yes, mademoiselle." 
 
 " Good French? " 
 
 " Not good French like our Bas-Breton people 
 speak, but " 
 
 " Like my grandfather speaks, I suppose." 
 
 " Yes, something like that, Mademoiselle 
 Anne." 
 
 " And he is a great, tall, red-faced old man, I 
 suppose? " 
 
 " Oh, no, mademoiselle, not at all. He is 
 rather small." 
 
 " Smaller than my grandfather? " 
 
 " Yes, and slender " 
 
 "Oh! A little baby man, then? " 
 
 " Wrong again, mademoiselle. He looks very 
 active, hardy, and strong. He is bold; he has the 
 grand air, the noble manner, and " 
 
 34
 
 The Cradle Song 
 
 " Did Jean-Renaud tell you all this, Josette? " 
 
 " No, mademoiselle," answered the maid, dis 
 concerted by the direct interrogation of her young 
 questioner, " I I saw him when he came in, and 
 while they were at supper I peeped through the 
 door." 
 
 " Monsieur le Marquis would be very angry in 
 deed if he knew that, Josette." 
 
 " Yes, mademoiselle, I know " 
 
 " But what did he look like? " 
 
 " Handsome! Hein! His hair curls, 'tis very, 
 blond and his eyes! Ciel! Blue, blue like the sea, 
 mademoiselle, and his cheeks red " 
 
 " Man Dieu! Quel beau chevalier! You must 
 be in love with him, Josette! " 
 
 " No, mademoiselle! Nay, 'tis not for the likes 
 of me " 
 
 " True, true," said the young chatelaine gravely. 
 '*' He is a noble knight, doubtless. He had red 
 cheeks, you say? " 
 
 " Yes, mademoiselle." 
 
 " Not like my pale ones, I suppose; but then 
 the English always were gross and red in the 
 cheek." 
 
 " But, mademoiselle " 
 
 " That will do, Josette, you weary me with this 
 stranger. Did you bring the new dolls? " 
 
 " Here they are, mademoiselle," said the faithful 
 Josette, producing two elaborately dressed Pari 
 sian dolls from beneath her apron. " They came by 
 special messenger from Paris last night after you 
 had retired." 
 
 35
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 " Oh," exclaimed the young girl, rapturously, 
 " how beautiful they are! I thought I had about 
 done with dolls, but these are so lovely. What 
 grand dames they are! Give them to me, Jo 
 sette." 
 
 " How kind of Monsieur le Marquis, mademoi 
 selle," answered the maid, who was also the foster 
 sister and youthful confidante of the countess, as 
 she handed her the two dolls. 
 
 " Yes, surely," replied the little girl, " but then 
 he's always that. He's so kind that I almost wish 
 he would be cross with me sometimes. I think I'll 
 marry somebody that he won't like just to make 
 him angry." 
 
 " Jean-Renaud says," answered Josette, shud 
 dering in anticipation, " that Monsieur le Marquis 
 is terrible when he is angry." 
 
 " Dear me! " said the child, " I should not like 
 him to be terrible just nicely angry. Do you sup 
 pose the Englishman will be terrible when he's 
 angry? " 
 
 " They say the English always are but this 
 one doesn't look like it." 
 
 " Oh, do you know," said the capricious little 
 maiden, " these are beautiful dolls, but I don't 
 believe I like them after all as much as old 
 ' Toto.' " 
 
 " I brought her along, too," returned Josette, 
 producing her from a pocket in her dress, " I 
 thought you might want her, mademoiselle." 
 
 " Oh, give her to me! " exclaimed the young 
 mother, extending her hand to take the old rag 
 
 36
 
 The Cradle Song 
 
 affair, " I am tired of walking and talking, Josette. 
 You are so very uninteresting this morning. You 
 can't speak of anything but that Englishman! 
 Let's sit down here under this beech-tree and sing 
 the dolls to sleep. You take the two from Paris. 
 We'll play they're twins, and I will take poor 
 old Toto. She shall not be neglected for the 
 beautiful ladies from the city, shall she? Poor old 
 Toto! I shall never have any more dolls, Josette. 
 I certainly am too old for them. If it were a real 
 baby, now, or a knight," continued this small bun 
 dle of inconsistencies, " how I would love it! But 
 that is not to be. Helas, Josette! Come, let us 
 put them to sleep." 
 
 " But, mademoiselle, 'tis early morning " re 
 sponded the unimaginative peasant. 
 
 " Stupid, we can play 'tis night, can't we? Be 
 sides, it's always good for children to take a nap. 
 Grandfather says ' the more sleepy the eye in the 
 daytime the brighter the eye at night.' You sit 
 there, and I will sit here. Now, sing." 
 
 The two children, with that delightful indiffer 
 ence to rank and station which constitutes one of 
 the charms of childhood, sat down on a rustic bench 
 under a handsome old beech-tree. Though both 
 were about the same age, just entering their teens, 
 Josette, who was the younger, would have made 
 two of her young mistress. She had already 
 reached her growth, apparently, for she was tall 
 and large, and her splendid physical development 
 was well set off by the picturesque dress of the Bre 
 ton peasantry. Her mistress, on the contrary, was 
 
 37
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 small, slender, fragile, undeveloped, and physically 
 as much behind her maid as mentally she was her 
 superior. A greater contrast between them could 
 not have been imagined. 
 
 "What shall we sing, mademoiselle?" asked 
 Josette. " Shall it be The Fox Gallant? " 
 
 " No, we'll sing Toutouie, la, la! " 
 
 " Very we.l, will you begin? " 
 
 " No, you." 
 
 11 Very well. Are you ready? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " So, then." 
 
 Humming the air for a moment, the two voices 
 broke into the plaintive melody of an old Breton 
 cradle song, the refrain of which gave it a title. In 
 default of a rocking-chair not then indigenous to 
 France the two bodies swayed back and forth in 
 time to the simple lullaby, or berceuse, the wooden 
 sabots on one pair of large though shapely feet pat 
 ting the ground in time with the dainty jewel-buck 
 led Louis Quinze slippers upon the other. The 
 words were primitive and childish as befits folk song 
 at its best, and more especially at its beginning in 
 the cradle song, and the music was equally so; yet 
 the emphatic word was repeated at the end of each 
 verse with a long-drawn cadence, and the Toutouie, 
 la, la! rose above the branches with a caressing in 
 tonation which a mother might have used to a 
 child. 
 
 Every little girl is a potential mother, and when 
 she plays with her dolls she is following an instinct 
 everlastingly feminine and as old as religion. The 
 
 38
 
 The Cradle Song 
 
 doll is the outward and visible expression of that 
 incarnate racial idea which, through the sacrifices 
 involved in reproduction, leads humanity to its 
 greatest height. 
 
 And so the song was at one and the same time 
 eternally old and eternally new. The rude words 
 were perhaps of little consequence beside the idea, 
 yet there was a significance in the primitive and 
 poetic phrases of the common people. Poetry, too, 
 begins with children, and the true font Pierian is the 
 mother's breast 
 
 " Toutouie, la, la ! my little child, 
 Toutouie, la, la / Toiitouie, la, la ! 
 
 " Thy mother, my little one, is here, 
 So hush thee, hush thee, baby dear, 
 Toutouie, la, la ! 
 
 " So htish, my lamb, my song I'll keep 
 To lull my little one fast asleep, 
 Toutottie, la, la ! 
 
 " Thy mother s life was dark and sad, 
 Ere thou cam si to make it glad, 
 Toutouie, la, la ! 
 
 " My bird thou art and thou canst rest. 
 Here in the rose tree of my breast, 
 Toutouie, la, la ! 
 
 " Spread not, my bird, to heaven thy wings, 
 ' Tis heaven here, when mother sings, 
 Toutouie, la, la ! " 
 
 The gentle air of the summer morning rustled 
 the leaves of the old beech-tree in a not inharmoni- 
 
 39
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 ous accompaniment to the melody and swept the 
 sound into the dull ear of a drowsy man. Philip 
 Grafton had forgotten himself in the great bed of 
 the large chamber above the beech-tree. He 
 lazily opened the curtains of the bed as the sound 
 came faintly into the room, and the flood of light 
 which poured upon him completed his awakening. 
 He lay listening a few moments, and then rose and 
 leisurely walked to the window. 
 
 It was a heavenly morning. The breeze, laden 
 with the sweet fragrance of summer, blew softly 
 across his face through the casement. An enchant 
 ing garden, which might have boasted the supervi 
 sion of the famous Le Notre himself, lay spread 
 before his eyes. Half concealed by the interlacing 
 boughs of the tree he could detect two figures be 
 neath the window, sitting on a bench under the 
 shadow of the beech. 
 
 He watched them. They were singing. That 
 wild, plaintive, yet primitive chant came from the 
 two little girls there. The deeper contralto tones of 
 the peasant girl afforded a sweet accompaniment 
 for the girlish treble of the other. The birds 
 twittered in the trees of the garden, and a gay 
 robin on a branch near the window poured out his 
 brave little soul in brilliant bursts of song. It 
 was a chorus of nature harmonizing with the 
 natural song of motherhood, which seemed not 
 inappropriate though issuing from the lips of 
 children. 
 
 " Toutouie, la, la! " What was the queer little 
 refrain? He leaned far out over the window-sill 
 
 40
 
 The Cradle Song 
 
 and listened to the singers. He was wont to be 
 awakened by the creaking of the timbers of a heav 
 ing ship, and the experience of this morning was as 
 novel as it was delightful. It was interrupted, 
 however, by a knock upon the door.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 EXIT DOLL ENTER KNIGHT 
 
 AT the sound of Grafton's voice directing him to 
 enter, Sergeant Jean-Renaud, who was accom 
 panied by a slender youth in the livery of the house, 
 opened the door. 
 
 " Monsieur is awake? " asked the sergeant, step 
 ping over the threshold and saluting respectfully. 
 
 " As you see, sergeant." 
 
 " Monsieur slept well? " 
 
 " Very well." 
 
 " Monsieur wakes early." 
 
 " Yes, that song there " pointing to the win 
 dow, " do you not hear it? " 
 
 " 'Tis mademoiselle and Josette," answered 
 Jean-Renaud; "she will be annoyed to think she 
 has disturbed " 
 
 " On no account tell her! Say nothing about it 
 to any one, my good friend. 'Tis delightful! What 
 sing they? " 
 
 "A cradle song, monsieur," answered the ser 
 geant. " My old mother sang me to sleep with 
 that song, and thousands of other mothers in Brit 
 tany have sung it as well. Toiitonie, la, la! " He 
 caught up the refrain, and in a deep though not 
 unmusical voice hummed the air. 
 
 42
 
 Exit Doll Enter Knight 
 
 " Tis a pretty song," said Grafton. 
 
 " Yes, monsieur, but if you are ready to 
 dress, I have brought Anatole, who is at your 
 service while you are a pris while you honour 
 our house," he added, with native politeness. 
 " He will serve monsieur. And Monsieur le Mar 
 quis bids me say when you are ready he will be 
 pleased to attend you at breakfast. Monsieur 
 realizes that he is is while he is within the walls 
 he " 
 
 " I remember everything, my good friend," re 
 plied Grafton, " within the walls I am free, outside, 
 a prisoner." 
 
 " Provided, of course, monsieur gets outside," 
 answered Jean-Renaud smiling. " Has monsieur 
 any commands for me? " 
 
 " None," replied Philip as the old soldier with 
 drew. The deft Anatole, who seemed familiar with 
 the habits of Englishmen, quickly arranged a bath, 
 laid out a uniform from his new master's wardrobe 
 for his personal baggage had been sent him 
 through the kindness of de Kersaint and then 
 withdrew. Hastily Philip dressed himself and 
 yet with unusual care, by the way and descended 
 to the hall. Finding the door open he entered the 
 garden. 
 
 The song had ceased and the two maidens, the 
 dolls lying neglected in their laps, were engaged in 
 earnest conversation. 
 
 " And you think," he heard the smaller say, 
 " that he would be my knight? " 
 
 " Mademoiselle, he is there! " exclaimed Jo- 
 
 43
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 sette, springing to her feet in much confusion, as 
 she observed Grafton's approach. 
 
 The other girl turned her head slightly, saw him 
 advancing, and as if to mark the difference between 
 the mistress and the maid, rose slowly and calmly 
 to her feet. In spite of her dignity her little heart 
 was beating furiously. The dolls fell neglected to 
 the ground. The end of their reign began that 
 morning. 
 
 Grafton bowed profoundly before her, and as 
 she returned his salutation with a sweeping cour 
 tesy, he looked curiously at her. So this was the 
 Breton rose! She was a small, slender, pale little 
 girl, between thirteen and fourteen years old, and 
 rather delicate in appearance. Too old to be play 
 ing with dolls, certainly. Her head was crowned 
 with a mass of hair black as a raven's wing, which 
 fell down her back in a heavy braid tied with a scar 
 let ribbon. A pair of rather long arms terminating 
 in long slender hands stretched from her immature 
 sloping shoulders. Below the short skirt of her 
 dress two long thin legs dropped into dainty 
 slippers. 
 
 Philip was something of a connoisseur and he 
 scanned her carefully and swiftly. Her eyes, he 
 thought, were good, and blue he could see in spite 
 of the downcast lids a strange combination of 
 black hair, pale face, and blue eyes, unusual but 
 striking. Her hands were small, he noticed, and her 
 feet, even then, charming. As for the rest that 
 would come in time. She was a maiden of much 
 promise he decided. 
 
 44
 
 Exit Doll Enter Knight 
 
 " Mademoiselle," he said respectfully, " have I 
 the pleasure of addressing the Chatelaine of Josse- 
 lin, the young Countess de Rohan? " 
 
 " Yes, monsieur," answered the girl simply, 
 lifting her eyes to his as she spoke. 
 
 He started in surprise before their deep violet 
 splendour the eyes of a woman in the face of a 
 child. Good heavens! They were glorious de 
 cidedly this was promising. 
 
 " You are the English milord? " she queried 
 gravely. 
 
 " Neither the one nor the other, mademoi 
 selle," he answered, smiling at her frank question. 
 " I was born in America." 
 
 " Ah! " cried the girl brightening, " my mother 
 came from there. Tis a great land." 
 
 " The greatest the sun shines upon, mademoi 
 selle," gravely answered Grafton. 
 
 " Except France, monsieur." 
 
 " Except France, little lady, since you are here," 
 he returned gaily. 
 
 " And monsieur is not a lord? " 
 
 " There are no lords in America." 
 
 " Not even a knight?" 
 
 " Not yet, unless I may be your knight, made 
 moiselle." 
 
 " You hear, Josette? " cried the girl, turning 
 delightedly to the other, " we won't have to play 
 any more that you are a knight. Monsieur says he 
 will be my knight. So few gentlemen come here, 
 monsieur; we see no one," she went on, with a state- 
 liness and ease which quite belied the ragged doll 
 
 45
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 at her feet, the Parisian dolls by her side, the short 
 dress, and general air of unformed and undeveloped 
 womanhood about her. " Monsieur le Marquis is 
 here, of course. And Monsieur de Kersaint, who 
 was a friend of my father's, comes sometimes, and 
 the masters of the dance, and the masters of the 
 music, and the masters of the art, and all the other 
 tiresome masters, and Jean-Renaud, so that I am 
 glad to find a gentleman Monsieur is gentile, of 
 course? " 
 
 " I hope so, mademoiselle. I trust mademoi 
 selle may find me so at any rate." 
 
 " Monsieur looks so. Is it not so, Josette? " 
 frankly continued the child. 
 
 " Oh, indeed, yes, mademoiselle! " exclaimed 
 the embarrassed but acquiescent maid. 
 
 " I do not doubt monsieur's breeding, but a 
 maiden, motherless like I, monsieur, must be 
 very careful how she takes a knight without find 
 ing out all about him, you see. Monsieur's family 
 is old?" 
 
 ''' Very old, mademoiselle," answered the young 
 man, smiling at the little comedy. 
 
 " Monsieur is an American, and America was 
 only discovered let me see 'tis scarce three hun 
 dred years since, is it not, Josette? " 
 
 " Yes, mademoiselle, certainly," answered Jo 
 sette, still agreeably concurring, although she knew 
 nothing about it. 
 
 " But my family was English long before that 
 time, mademoiselle," answered Grafton, " and Nor 
 man before that." 
 
 46
 
 Exit Doll Enter Knight 
 
 " Oh, you are part French then? " 
 
 " My heart is all French, at least since I have 
 met you, mademoiselle." 
 
 " Now, that is nicely said. You are tres gentile 
 indeed, sir, and your family is old not as old as 
 the de Rohans, though." 
 
 " Mademoiselle, is anything so old or so beauti 
 ful as the de Rohans? " 
 
 " As to the age, monsieur, there is no doubt, but 
 as to the other, there are only grandfather and 
 myself left, and I am sure he is not beautiful, though 
 he's very wise, and so good to me that I think him 
 lovely. As for me," she regarded herself mourn 
 fully, looking from her dainty feet at her long bony 
 legs, her flat chest she even seemed introspec- 
 tively to be surveying her own countenance in the 
 mirror of her memory. She shrugged her shoul 
 ders at last, and Philip interrupted her meditations 
 by saying: 
 
 " Mademoiselle, I think you charming." 
 
 " But you, monsieur," she responded, " if you 
 are to be my true knight and servitor, must think 
 me beautiful. Knights always do that in the 
 books, you know." 
 
 'Tis an easy task your ladyship lays upon me," 
 he replied gallantly. " If I am set to no more diffi 
 cult undertaking than that to prove my devotion, 
 I shall be lightly treated." 
 
 " Oh, of course I shall find you harder things to 
 do than that. I can not have a knight who will not 
 do great things for me. Now, you, monsieur," 
 surveying him doubtfully, " are not so large as 
 
 47
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 as Jean-Renaud or the Comte de Kersaint, for 
 instance." 
 
 This frank remark nettled Grafton, who was 
 rather sensitive as to his size. 
 
 " But you will find that I am very strong, never 
 theless, my young friend," he said rather abruptly. 
 "See!" 
 
 He stepped forward, and before she knew what 
 he intended to do, he seized her slender waist in 
 both hands and raised her easily from the ground. 
 
 " How dare you! " she screamed, red with sud 
 den indignation. " Put me down at once, sir! I 
 never heard that Sir Lancelot, or Amadis de Gaul, 
 or Bertrand du Guesclin ever presumed to take 
 such liberties with their ladies! They worshipped 
 them from afar, sir! But I see how it is; you think 
 I am only a little girl, and I won't have it! I'd 
 rather have Josette for a knight! " cried the Chate 
 laine of Josselin, stamping her pretty feet and re 
 pressing a violent inclination to burst into childish 
 tears. 
 
 " I humbly beg ,your Highness' pardon," said 
 Philip, amazed at this outburst. " I only wanted 
 to show you at least how strong I was, in order that 
 you might deem me worthy to be your knight. I 
 should not have dared to do such a thing. I see 
 now it was very wrong. I humbly apologize to you. 
 Forgive your faithful servitor. Is there not some 
 way in which I may atone a dragon I can slay for 
 you? " 
 
 " Now you are laughing at me," she said, much 
 mollified, nevertheless. " There are no dragons 
 
 48
 
 Exit Doll Enter Knight 
 
 nowadays. At least Josette says there are, but I 
 never see any. But must knights have dragons? " 
 
 " Not necessarily, I believe, although they are 
 desirable; but am I forgiven? " 
 
 " If you will promise never to do it again," she 
 replied in her loftiest manner, " I shall overlook 
 it this time." 
 
 " And may I not have a token of forgiveness? " 
 
 " You may kiss my hand," she said, extending 
 her little brown paw. 
 
 Choking with laughter Grafton bent over it, 
 and was much surprised when she added: 
 
 " In all the books I have read, monsieur, the 
 knight always kneels when he kisses his lady's 
 hand." 
 
 " What would the ward-room mess on the Tor- 
 bay say if they could see me now? " thought Philip, 
 as he obediently dropped to his knees and pressed a 
 fervent kiss upon the extended hand. 
 
 " That's very nice," said the delighted girl 
 naively, " I am so glad you came. We never have 
 any gentlemen here but how old are you, mon 
 sieur? " 
 
 " Twenty-five." 
 
 "Mercy!" she exclaimed in some dismay, 
 " that's almost twice as old as I am! Perhaps you 
 are too old; but no, you will have to do. Now, you 
 may rise," she continued, striking him gently on 
 his shoulder with the tips of her fingers. " This is 
 my royal what do they call it? Dear me, you 
 are so stupid, Josette, you never know what to 
 tell me!" 
 
 49
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 "Accolade, is it not? " answered Graf ton; rising 
 to his feet. 
 
 " Yes, that's it. You know all about it, too. 
 Now I ought to give you something for a gage 
 d' amour. Let me see I'll give you Toto. Yes, that 
 will be excellent," she added, picking up the doll. 
 
 " Well, I should hardly consider it an appropri 
 ate token, mademoiselle. You see, ladies do not 
 often give their babies to their knights. Now, that 
 ribbon on your beautiful raven tresses " 
 
 " Oh, how beautiful! " exclaimed the girl, pull 
 ing off the ribbon. " Annette, who does it up, 
 calls it an ' awful mop,' but you are ever so much 
 nicer. Are all knights so lovely? " 
 
 " By no means," answered Philip. " I feel that 
 I have rare abilities which fit me to act in this 
 capacity." 
 
 " How beautifully he talks, Josette! " said the 
 little maiden. " Why, even Monsieur le Marquis 
 uses no longer words! There! " she cried, fasten 
 ing the ribbon to the buttonhole of his coat as she 
 spoke, " now you are my true knight until " 
 
 " Until I take you away on a pillion to the 
 wars." 
 
 " Yes, wouldn't that be charming! " she cried. 
 " But now you must tell me your name." 
 
 " Philip Grafton." 
 
 " I shall call you ' Sir Philip.' " 
 
 " That will be delightful. And your name? " 
 
 " Is Anne." 
 
 " I shall call you ' Lady Anne.' " 
 
 $< Yes, never forget it. I am going to have 
 
 50
 
 Exit Doll Enter Knight 
 
 longer skirts in a year, perhaps, and then it will be 
 more real you know." 
 
 " Nothing could add to the appropriateness of 
 the title, not even a trailing skirt, and I constitute 
 myself, with your gracious permission, Lady Anne, 
 your chosen knight. Oh that I had a spear and 
 there was somebody here to say that you were not 
 the most beautiful damsel in Brittany! Perhaps, Jo- 
 sette, you would like to dispute with me that title? " 
 
 "Oh, no, monsieur, certainly not!" answered 
 Josette, shrinking back against the tree-trunk as if 
 she already saw his spear point at her breast. 
 
 " Ah, here comes Jean-Renaud! " he continued. 
 " Well, monsieur sergeant, will you break a lance 
 with me in honour of Mademoiselle de Rohan? " 
 
 " Sir? " cried Jean-Renaud in great surprise. 
 
 " I maintain that she is the most beautiful lady 
 in Brittany." 
 
 " In the world, Sir Philip, you should say, unless 
 there is some beautiful English lady who has your 
 heart." 
 
 A shade of anxiety swept over the youthful face 
 at this thought, which was at once dispelled by his 
 perfectly truthful answer: 
 
 " There is no English or any other lady except 
 you, beauteous princess." 
 
 " How nice that is! I think you are the nicest 
 knight I ever dreamed of." 
 
 " Thank you. Now, Jean-Renaud, shall we re 
 pair to the tilt-yard? " 
 
 " Monsieur mystifies me," answered the old 
 sergeant.
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 " You agree, then, that mademoiselle is 
 
 the- 
 
 " Why, monsieur, we are all devoted to made 
 moiselle," responded Jean-Renaud simply. " Is it 
 a game monsieur plays? If so, we are all her servi 
 tors." 
 
 " No, no, Jean-Renaud, I will have no knight 
 but Sir Philip! " cried mademoiselle. 
 
 " You seem already to have made the acquaint 
 ance of my grand-daughter, Captain Grafton," in 
 terrupted the marquis, turning the corner of the 
 house at the moment. 
 
 "Acquaintance, Monsieur le Marquis? She has 
 done me the honour to constitute me her royal 
 knight, and I am trying to induce Jean-Renaud 
 to break a spear in her behalf." 
 
 " Will he not make a proper knight, grandpa, 
 this English gentleman? " asked Anne, fluttering 
 to her grandfather. 
 
 " Proper knight indeed, my child," answered 
 the old man, humoring her mood as he fondly 
 kissed her, " and I congratulate you. Meanwhile 
 let us descend from the romantic to the material. 
 Breakfast is served. Monsieur Grafton, will you 
 take your little lady and precede me? C'est bien" 
 he soliloquized, taking a pinch of snuff as he calmly 
 surveyed the young man and the little girl walking 
 ceremoniously toward the door. " A pretty piece 
 of play. I shall take care it stops in sport. The 
 thorn watches the rose. Anne de Rohan mates 
 with no foreigner, much less with an enemy." 
 
 52
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 IN THE OLD WATCH-TOWER 
 
 GRAFTON did not find the time of his imprison 
 ment hang heavily on his hands. An only child, 
 whose mother, like Anne de Rohan's, had died in 
 his infancy, he had been early sent to sea. He 
 knew but little of family life, therefore, and even less 
 of children. Through his connections and influ 
 ence he was not without some acquaintance with 
 the high life of the court of England a somewhat 
 unusual privilege for a young naval officer and he 
 easily moved in the first circles in America when his 
 duties permitted him a rare visit there. Mingling 
 in this good society he had acquired an ease and 
 manner which, added to his native breeding and 
 instinctive dignity, enabled him to bear himself 
 gracefully wherever he found himself but he had 
 no experience with young girls of the age of the 
 young countess. 
 
 Fortunately his was a sunny, lively disposition, 
 full of laughter and humour, which made it not diffi 
 cult for him to enter into the spirit of the play in 
 accordance with his new friend's fancies. He had 
 been attracted in some strange way to the little de 
 Rohan from the first moment he had seen her nay, 
 
 53
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 from that morning hour when he had only heard her 
 in the garden and the romantic friendship which 
 she had instituted between them, and upon which 
 he had entered to please her and as a pastime for 
 a prisoner, unconsciously assumed a permanent 
 aspect. 
 
 He took part in the play with a zest which sur 
 prised him, and the more he was thrown in con 
 tact with the strange and peculiar mind of the girl 
 the more she interested him. She was a singular 
 mixture of the young and the old, the very childish 
 and the very wise. She stood, as it were, poised 
 half-way between the intellectual level of Josette, 
 her playmate, on the one hand, and of the courtly old 
 marquis, her preceptor and guide, on the other. 
 
 She was too old to play at dolls, he thought, 
 too young to play at love. And yet she had done 
 the one and was doing the other, although the 
 " adorable Toto " had been neglected of late for the 
 more adorable Philip. Shrewdness, wit, and com 
 mon sense mingled in equal measure with unbound 
 ed credulity and the most romantic imagination. 
 And her impetuosity and abandon were as evident 
 as were her wisdom or her innocence. 
 
 There were no dragons, to be sure at least they 
 did not find any real ones but the two, who were 
 left greatly alone by the marquis whose many duties 
 as vice-governor of the town took him frequently 
 from the chateau to the city during those warlike 
 times, easily evoked mythical ones from the crowd 
 ed realms of their imagination, which they routed 
 with great slaughter. Anne was crowned Queen 
 
 54
 
 In the Old Watch-Tower 
 
 of Love and Beauty a dozen times a day, and 
 Philip as often distinguished himself by deeds of 
 daring. 
 
 She read to him out of quaint old romances and 
 furtively compared him with bygone heroes not at 
 all to his disadvantage either. They discussed sa- 
 piently of love and chivalry, the girl telling him 
 many things of which he had never heard, while he 
 unconsciously gave her intimations of the world of 
 the present of which she was so ignorant light 
 touches which her quick mind appreciated and wove 
 into the fabric of her dreams. 
 
 And in all this, she both of them, indeed did 
 not forget to be children. In the climbing of trees, 
 in the running of races, in the playing of games of all 
 sorts with her and with Josette who was not 
 a little scandalized, by the way for rivals, the 
 young Englishman proved himself an adept. He 
 had not had such fun since he was a boy. 
 
 One evening after Grafton had been a week a 
 prisoner in the chateau, the marquis took it upon 
 himself to discuss matters suggested by the grow 
 ing intimacy between his grand-daughter and the 
 young Englishman, thinking that possibly a word of 
 warning, an intimation and an assurance might not 
 be unnecessary. 
 
 " Monsieur," he said after supper, " may I have 
 a few words with you this evening? Mademoi 
 selle Anne, you will excuse us, I am sure," he added, 
 waiting for her permission. 
 
 The old man was most punctiliously courteous 
 to his little ward, and indeed to his prisoner as well. 
 
 55
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 Had it not been for the walls and the gate, Philip 
 would never have known that he was a captive. 
 
 " Certainly, gentlemen," she answered with that 
 assumption of the manner of the grande dame which 
 sat so easily upon her immature shoulders and 
 which Grafton so delighted to see, " J will with 
 draw." 
 
 " Not so, my child, pray remain where you are. 
 Monsieur Grafton will accompany me to my cabi 
 net, and we will return here presently if you will 
 await us." 
 
 " My young friend," said the marquis, when the 
 two were alone, " you may have noticed that this is 
 a strange house. There are few fathers who would 
 permit their daughters so much freedom even within 
 these walls as I have given my grand-daughter the 
 young Countess de Rohan. She is all I have left, 
 monsieur, and I have reared and educated her and 
 shall continue to do so, upon a plan of my own. 
 She is very precious to me, Captain Grafton; I have 
 humoured and indulged her even when she wished 
 to play the old game of chivalry with a stranger 
 whom fate brought to our doors. Perhaps I have 
 done wrong here, too, but she is only a child as yet. 
 I had I have a thought, monsieur, that it might be 
 good for her to meet you freely. You are a gen 
 tleman, and of the world outside, of which I have 
 purposely kept her in ignorance yet she must 
 know it some day." He sighed as he thought of the 
 contingency, and after a little pause, continued, "She 
 has seen but few gentlemen of her own station in 
 life; myself, Monsieur de Kersaint in short, I have 
 
 56
 
 In the Old Watch-Tower 
 
 opened my house to you, monsieur. While you are 
 a prisoner forgive the word, my friend, with you I 
 would fain forget the fact it has become what is 
 your English word? Ah, yes, your home! Mon 
 sieur, she is my only grand-daughter, my most pre 
 cious possession. The heart, the life of an old man 
 are bound up in her. I have trusted you, sir " 
 
 " You shall never repent it, sir! " cried Grafton 
 impulsively. " She is charming to me. I have 
 known but little of children in my life and I find her 
 delightful. And Monsieur le Marquis, if you knew 
 me better, you would know that I would rather die 
 than injure a hair of her head of any child of any 
 woman, sir. Tis not the habit of America " 
 
 " I know you well better than you think, 
 my young sir," answered the old marquis, yet in 
 spite of himself the relief in his tones was appar 
 ent. " I have not lived in courts and camps for so 
 many years, dealing with men, without being able 
 to judge them. And because I know you I have 
 trusted you without exacting assurances." 
 
 " Yet you warn me now, sir! " 
 
 " Monsieur, forgive an old man, 'twas for your 
 own sake This play of knight and dame made 
 moiselle is for France. She must mate with the 
 highest." 
 
 " Monsieur," answered Grafton with a touch of 
 hauteur, " here is no thought of mating. 'Tis a 
 child's play. Yet I would have you know, sir, that 
 my family is among the oldest in England, my 
 estates in America not less wide than these of the 
 de Rohans in France." 
 
 5 57
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 " Enough, Monsieur Grafton," replied the old 
 man smiling, " we need not discuss the impossible. 
 Mademoiselle is a child. You will soon be ex 
 changed, I hope for your own sake, not for mine. 
 I shall continue to trust you and let her enjoy her 
 play. "Pis a compliment I pay you, monsieur. I 
 know few young men, if any, in France, to whom I 
 would grant so great a liberty." 
 
 " I honour you, Monsieur le Marquis, for the 
 privileges you have permitted me, and believe me, I 
 shall not show my appreciation by any base in 
 gratitude." 
 
 " Tis well," returned the marquis, " let us re 
 join the chatelaine." 
 
 Thereafter the little comedy-drama between the 
 young sailor and the little girl was resumed with 
 greater gaiety and abandon than ever. Grafton 
 kissed the little brown hand so often that he rather 
 grew to like it. Every day brought him a differ 
 ent love-token of some sort and a new and imagi 
 nary task to be achieved. But Mademoiselle Anne 
 at last tired of simulation the most obstinate im 
 agination will weary in the end and determined 
 to endeavour to impart a touch of realism to the 
 pretty game. 
 
 One day, therefore, she took him into one of 
 the rooms of the high tower, the keep or watch- 
 tower, the oldest part of the chateau, which he had 
 never visited before. There she told him a tale of 
 one of the ancient ladies of Rohan who had a lover 
 who came from an alien and antagonistic family, 
 who gained access to her chamber by climbing in 
 
 58
 
 In the Old Watch-Tower 
 
 some strange way the wall or face of the tower, 
 until he reached the oriel window before them. He 
 was finally caught and killed by the lords of the 
 house on the threshold of the very room in which 
 they were standing, she said, and she wondered if 
 Sir Philip could, or would, have done that thing. 
 
 " Let us go to the window and look out, your 
 little ladyship, and we will see," answered the pseu- 
 do knight gaily. " I am a sailor. I can climb al 
 most anything that any one else can ascend." 
 
 Together and hand in hand the two stepped out 
 on the little balcony overlooking the sea. Just 
 outside the oriel window, the wall of the castle, fol 
 lowing the coast line, turned sharply, making a 
 narrow re-entrant angle where it joined the round 
 tower. The tower and the wall were built of rough 
 stone and their surfaces were much broken by jut 
 ting projections. The wall and tower sloped slight 
 ly inward from the base to the top. 
 
 Philip gravely surveyed the stone surface of the 
 weather-beaten tower sweeping below the little 
 platform on which they stood, and made up his 
 mind that a daring climber taking advantage of 
 the irregularities and projections in the stone, and 
 favoured by the slope and the angle, might, if he had 
 a cool head, gain the balcony, provided no one op 
 posed his ascent. Indeed, since the Baron de Croi- 
 sic, the unfortunate lover of the legend had done so, 
 he felt sure that he himself could accomplish the 
 feat given a sufficient incentive, of course. At 
 the foot of the tower lay the little bay spoken of 
 before, and in the bay a small boat was moored. 
 
 59
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 He looked again and more carefully, leaning far 
 out over the wall, and with the trained observation 
 of a sailor to whom the minutest indication may be 
 of paramount value, he took careful note of the 
 several projecting stones, the slope of the walls, and 
 rapidly mapped out a series of movements by 
 which the feat could be achieved. 
 
 " Yes," he said at last, " it could be done; it 
 would be difficult, dangerous, in fact, but it could 
 be done given a sufficient incentive." 
 
 " Am I a sufficient what is it you say? I know 
 not that word, I think." 
 
 ' You are incentive enough for anything. Shall 
 I try.it? " he asked lightly. 
 
 The Countess Anne leaned out across the cop 
 ing of the balcony, and looked down. It was in 
 deed a giddy height. Her brain reeled as she 
 gazed. She would like very much to put Sir 
 Philip to the test, but in the end she decided not. 
 He might be killed, and that would be a bitter end 
 to their little play. She recalled that Monsieur 
 de Croisic had been thrown down there after he 
 had been caught in the tower. The height was 
 appalling. She was too fond of Sir Philip. So she 
 temporized. She was woman enough for that, he 
 thought. Indeed, he realized that she had devel 
 oped marvellously in the month he had been with 
 her. She seemed years away from dolls now. He 
 wondered why. 
 
 " Not to-day, Sir Philip; some other time, per 
 haps, but not now," she answered him at last. 
 
 " As you will, Mistress Anne," he replied indif- 
 60
 
 In the Old Watch-Tower 
 
 ferently, and then as a thought struck him he ques 
 tioned her: " Why is this place not guarded, or 
 the wall smoothed, so that no one could climb up 
 again? " 
 
 " I suppose it was guarded once. As for the wall, 
 the story I read said that the lords of the tower left 
 it just as it was, for they thought that the lesson 
 they had given poor de Croisic would keep every 
 body away. Would it keep you away? " 
 
 " Not if you were here waiting for me, Lady 
 Anne. But why is it not guarded now? " he per 
 sisted. 
 
 " I can not tell. Nobody knows this story ex 
 cept myself and Josette to whom I told it, I suppose. 
 I read it the other day in some old papers I found 
 in the library room. I doubt if even grandfather 
 remembers it or he would lock up the room. Be 
 sides, what need? There is no one who can make 
 use of it now," she answered artlessly. 
 
 But it came into Grafton's mind that if it were 
 difficult to climb up to that balcony window, it 
 would be less difficult to climb down from it, and the 
 idea of escaping sprang instantly into his head. 
 Indeed, it had often been with him, but he had seen 
 no way whatever to bring it about until that after 
 noon, that very moment in the oriel of that tower. 
 
 Beyond the rocky edges of the shore, to sea 
 ward, the horizon was dark with the sails of ships. 
 It was the huge fleet of Boscawen lingering off the 
 coast in the vain hope that something might draw 
 the French out from Brest at that time and a gen 
 eral engagement might be brought about. If Graf- 
 
 61
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 ton could gain that window at night, descend the 
 wall, seize the little boat in the cove, he might reach 
 the ships! He stood in abstracted silence gazing 
 seaward until the girl laid her hand lightly upon 
 his arm. 
 
 " Have you forgotten me, Sir Philip? " she 
 questioned him jealously; "were you thinking 
 of- 
 
 " Of home for a moment, my child, of Old Eng 
 land, and a better-loved shore farther away. Those 
 are English ships and but never mind, we were 
 talking of the lady's lover. Yes, I can see how he 
 might have come up the wall." 
 
 " And of course I will not let you do that now 
 because but would you do it for me some day? " 
 she asked anxiously. 
 
 " Some day, perhaps, I shall show you," he re 
 plied. " I could do harder things than that for you. 
 But come, let us seek the dragons in the garden, 
 beauteous dame. 'Tis a long time since we have 
 had an adventure of any sort. Call Josette for your 
 court, and after the battle I shall crown you Queen 
 of Love and Beauty again. I can beat you down 
 the stair," he added as they raced away. 
 
 62
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE END OF THE PLAY 
 
 THAT night he determined to put in practice 
 the attempt to escape, the first definite possibility of 
 which had come to him that afternoen. Indeed, it 
 had grown upon him with each passing moment. 
 He lay awake for hours after he had retired and 
 Anatole had been dismissed, waiting until the peo 
 ple in the chateau, except the guards at the gate and 
 the watchmen on the walls, had all gone to sleep. 
 And for a true knight his thoughts at least were 
 recreant, since he dreamed not of the Lady Anne 
 but of freedom. 
 
 Toward midnight he arose, dressed himself 
 quickly, and softly stole through the deserted halls 
 until he came to the unoccupied chamber in the 
 round tower. No especial watch was kept upon 
 him, no guards were stationed upon the tower 
 and but few on the seaward side of the chateau. 
 Moving circumspectly he had met no one nor had 
 he attracted the attention of any sleeper. 
 
 He stepped quickly through the great room to 
 the oriel. He stood for a moment on the balcony 
 looking out to sea. It was a bright moonlight 
 night. Away on the horizon twinkled the faint 
 
 63
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 yellow lights of the English ships. Far below him 
 in the shadow of the cliffs the waves were break 
 ing in sullen splashing upon the splintered shore. 
 He could hear the rhythmical persistent beat 
 of their tireless assault upon the rocks, see the 
 white water, shot with phosphorescent sparks, 
 churned into foam over the reefs at the foot of 
 the cliffs. 
 
 He hesitated as he surveyed the scene; although 
 his purpose was unchanged, he realized as he had 
 not before, that his undertaking was fraught with 
 the greatest danger. He might reach the foot of 
 the cliff alive or he might not. The chances were 
 against him. Things looked differently in the night 
 time. A slip, a misstep, a fall, and death would be 
 the end, death on the rocks two hundred feet below, 
 with the white foam for a shroud, and the ebbing 
 tide to bear him far out to sea. 
 
 Yet he must needs go on. But as he made 
 ready to descend, his thoughts suddenly went back 
 to the little girl who had been his playmate during 
 the past few weeks. He had almost forgotten her 
 for the moment. Was he a recreant knight thereby? 
 His conscience reproached him. Strange as it may 
 seem, he felt a keen pang of regret when he realized 
 that once he stepped over the balcony wall and 
 essayed the descent he should be parted from her 
 forever. In death or in liberty they would be 
 equally separated. The little Rose of the Rohans 
 to see her no more! The thought gave him a 
 peculiar feeling. He paused, reluctant. He was 
 surprised at himself. 
 
 64
 
 The End of the Play 
 
 The little maiden with her mingling of child 
 ish innocence and womanly charm had grown very 
 dear to him, and the joy he anticipated in soon 
 regaining his liberty was sadly dimmed by the cer 
 tain sadness of that inevitable parting. Yet the 
 feeling was not strong enough to deter him then. 
 It was deep enough, however, to give him pause. 
 He lingered, thinking swiftly. It was duty that 
 turned the scale duty and love are antagonists 
 of old. 
 
 He had learned something about the French 
 fleet in Brest and the location of the defences in the 
 harbour in his rapid ride through the town when he 
 came to the chateau, and from his frequent although 
 apparently cursory examinations of the position 
 from the towers and walls he had learned more. 
 His information would be of great value. He was 
 an officer of the King, and when the possibility of 
 escape presented itself, at all hazards he must make 
 an effort to reach the ships. The marquis had 
 spoken once or twice about exchange, but nothing 
 had yet come from it and such matters were slow 
 at best. 
 
 As it seemed more feasible, as the possibility ap 
 proached nearer, his desire grew. The detaining 
 image of the French girl grew fainter. Duty, lib 
 erty, freedom, action what child could stand in 
 the way? Therefore again he determined to at 
 tempt the descent. Yet it was a forbidding under 
 taking now that he had settled upon it. It had 
 seemed easier in the daylight than at night time. 
 The bend of the wall cast the corner in a black 
 
 65
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 shadow, the more intense on account of the bright 
 ness of the moonlight beyond. 
 
 His mind was in a strange turmoil. Death 
 love liberty what would be the end? Pshaw! 
 He would think no more, he would do it ! 
 
 He climbed up on the stone railing of the bal 
 cony, turned his back toward the tower, slid along 
 the coping stone until he could feel the angle be 
 tween the walls with his hand, his shoulders touch 
 ing either side of the angle. He held firmly to the 
 coping of the balcony, which he determined not to 
 let go of until he was sure of a foot rest. Then he 
 stretched out his right leg and felt about in the shad 
 ow until finally his foot hit the first projection. He 
 breathed a prayer and prepared to descend. He was 
 glad the angle was in the shadow. He could not see 
 what was beneath him. The black cliffs under 
 his feet hid their terrors from him. He intended 
 to try it with his face outward, his back in the 
 angle, his hands and feet outstretched, clutching 
 at or feeling for every inequality. He was 
 about to let go. Another moment and he had 
 gone, when he felt a familiar little hand laid upon 
 his arm. 
 
 " Come back, come back, you will be killed! " 
 whispered a small frightened voice. He was so 
 startled in spite of the quietness of her address that 
 he nearly lost his hold and fell. He recovered him 
 self, however, by a prodigious effort, and aided by 
 the girl's nervous, clinging hands he drew himself up 
 slowly, and swinging his legs back over the coping 
 landed once more on the solid floor of the balcony. 
 
 66
 
 The End of the Play 
 
 The idea of disregarding her summons did not once 
 occur to him. 
 
 " Were you doing this for me? " asked the girl 
 innocently, still clinging to him as if afraid to re 
 lease him. 
 
 " Mademoiselle Anne! " he cried in great sur 
 prise and annoyance, " why are you here? " He 
 was trembling violently from his exertions and the 
 tense emotions of the past few moments. 
 
 " Why not, Sir Philip? You are here yourself, 
 you see," she answered unsuspiciously, approach 
 ing him and laying an innocent hand on his arm and 
 looking steadily at him. 
 
 " Yes, but I come into the tower," he said 
 drawing her back through the window into the 
 room. How her eyes gleamed in the moonlight! 
 What depths were there, what unfathomable mys 
 teries lurked within their shadows! He had never 
 seen them so before. They startled him those 
 eyes so softly tender, so deeply blue. And the 
 exquisite pallor of that face framed in the misty 
 blackness of her floating hair the girl was beau 
 tiful. 
 
 Following him into the chamber she stopped 
 unconsciously where the moonlight streamed in 
 through the window. For the first time he noticed 
 what she wore in the bright illumination. Appar 
 ently she was clad in her night-dress with a loose 
 wrapper hastily thrown about her shoulders; her 
 little bare feet gleamed like marble in the patch of 
 white light on the stone floor. One hand hung by 
 her side, with the other she instinctively gathered 
 
 67
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 the wrapper across her breast with a movement at 
 once modest yet charming. 
 
 "Why, you are in your night-robe!" he ex 
 claimed in astonishment, but not raising his voice 
 for fear of attracting attention. " Your feet are bare 
 and on these damp stones! You'll catch your 
 death of cold! My dear child! " 
 
 He forgot that he was her knight, and stooping 
 down lifted her slender form in his strong young 
 arms. She half-struggled a moment and then ac 
 quiesced. What was he to do with her? The car- 
 petless room was bare of furniture and, save for 
 themselves, empty. He hesitated, stepped into the 
 window, sat down upon the low sill, and set her on 
 his knee, holding her firmly, carefully, tenderly. 
 She, too, forgot that she was a lady, and nestled 
 against him as any other child might have done. 
 
 " Now tell me," he whispered they spoke 
 softly all the time " why did you come here, 
 Anne? " 
 
 It was the first time he had addressed her with 
 out a title. 
 
 " I do not know," she answered. " I my 
 room is over there, you know. I couldn't sleep. I 
 was thinking about the Lady Jehane and her lover 
 the Baron de Croisic and about you, Sir Philip." 
 The pause between the " Sir " and " Philip " was a 
 long one, which sweetened the name in his ears as 
 she continued, " I heard a sound and I thought it 
 might be his ghost. So I came I hurried too. I 
 had no time to dress." 
 
 " Were you not afraid? " 
 68
 
 The End of the Play 
 
 " The marquis says the de Rohans are never 
 afraid. I didn't like it, but I came on tiptoe, and 
 then I saw something black outside on the balcony 
 and I walked over there. I was a little afraid, I 
 think, perhaps because I am part American," she 
 added naively. 
 
 " Americans are never afraid, either," inter 
 rupted Grafton promptly. 
 
 " Well, anyway, I saw it was you and I was not 
 afraid any more. And I watched you stand and 
 look, and then I saw you get over the wall, and then 
 I was fearfully afraid for you, Philip. I thought 
 you might be killed. I slipped out and cau'ght hold 
 of you, you came back, and now we are here to 
 gether." 
 
 There was a long pause. She slipped her arm 
 about his neck and held him as if she feared again 
 that he might fall. He scarcely knew what to say, 
 so he held her close and kept silent until she spoke 
 once more, drawing herself away from him a little as 
 she did so. " I don't think knights carry their 
 ladies around like this, do they? I don't think it's 
 quite proper, is it? But these stones are so cold, 
 and I forgot my slippers, I was so anxious. Is it 
 all right, Sir Philip? " 
 
 She wriggled her pretty little toes as she anx 
 iously sought for reassurance from her admirer and 
 companion. 
 
 " Proper? Of course, and where is Josette? " 
 he answered, glad to get back to the form if not the 
 spirit of the play. 
 
 "Asleep," she answered, "the great stupid! 
 69
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 She doesn't care whether there are any knights in 
 the world or not. But what were you doing here? 
 You have not told me yet." 
 
 " I I I thought I'd try the tower, you know 
 the wall to go down." 
 
 " Yes, and was it for me? " 
 
 For the life of him he could not lie to this con 
 fiding and innocent little girl. 
 
 " Lady Anne," he whispered, " it was for " 
 
 But he did not seem to be able to tell her the 
 truth either. 
 
 " Yes, Sir Philip, it was for " 
 
 " For freedom then! " he said desperately. 
 
 " Oh! " she quivered, " and you were going to 
 leave me? " 
 
 There was a world of reproach in her voice and 
 then silence. Presently he discovered that she was 
 weeping. Her small frame shook with subdued 
 sobs. The sight alarmed him, pained him deeply; 
 he could not throw off a guilty feeling as he held 
 her closely, trying to soothe and quiet her. He 
 was desperately uncomfortable, yet the scene must 
 be ended if he were to get away. He could meet 
 her in laughter on a common ground, but sobs were 
 foreign to his philosophy. He had not enjoyed 
 experience of this womanly weakness, which is the 
 weapon of the helpless, and he was powerless before 
 her tears. He could not bear to see her cry, and 
 suppose the marquis should see him, what would 
 he think? Would he not conclude that Grafton 
 had broken faith with him? And yet there was a 
 passing sweetness in the situation too. He had no 
 
 70
 
 The End of the Play- 
 wish to terminate the interview; he forgot for the 
 moment that he intended to escape that night. 
 
 " Now, my dear little girl," he began at last, 
 " it's all play, ycu know." 
 
 This was a most unfortunate statement. All 
 her youthful energies had been bent toward the ob 
 literation of this bitter fact. That is a moment of 
 the greatest sadness when we find out our hardly 
 maintained realities have only been some other per 
 son's play! 
 
 " It's been play all the time," she sobbed im 
 pulsively. " I knew it was so! I tried not to be 
 lieve it! Josette told me so, and I said she was 
 stupid; but she knew more than I! You have been 
 playing with me from the very first, haven't you? 
 Let me go back to my dolls, monsieur, 'tis all I'm 
 fit for." 
 
 She tried vainly to break away. 
 
 " My dear child," he replied, still holding her, 
 but utterly at a loss to know what to do or say, 
 " you see I- 
 
 " You never were my really truly knight, were 
 you?" she went on through her tears. "You 
 never cared anything about me; you were just 
 amusing yourself, weren't you? Making fun of a 
 foolish little girl. Oh, monsieur, how could you? 
 And now you are going to leave me! " 
 
 " Anne," he said at last, " you are only a little 
 girl, and I am a grown man." 
 
 ' Yes, I remember I said you were old for a 
 knight, but you were all I had! " she wailed. 
 
 " But do you know," he continued, " it wasn't 
 
 71
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 all play after all not exactly and if I lingered 
 there on the balcony if you saw me pause, it was 
 because I did not wish to leave you. Tis truly so. 
 Dear little lady, little playfellow and comrade, I am 
 your knight and will be." 
 
 " And is there no other lady in England or 
 America? You said ' No ' once, but was it true? " 
 
 " It was true and it is true; there is no lady in 
 England or America, or anywhere in the world, 
 for me, except in this little corner of France, and 
 if I hesitated about going away, it was for 
 you, but don't you see? My duty I am an 
 English officer. My King is at war with yours. 
 I must go back! " 
 
 " You love your country, monsieur, more than 
 but you do not love me at all, do you? " she asked 
 piteously. 
 
 " Of course I do," he answered promptly. " I 
 love you very much indeed; you are the sweetest 
 little girl I know." 
 
 " Oh, the marquis loves me that way, and Jean- 
 Renaud, and Josette, and " 
 
 " It's different with me, you know. Not like 
 that at all. You see, men do their duty because 
 they ought to, and they love people because they 
 have to." 
 
 " Do you have to love me, Sir Philip? " 
 
 " Yes, and I am glad to, my dear little girl. I 
 am afraid if I stay here any longer and you grow 
 any older " He hesitated; was he actually about 
 to propose to this child? He resumed, rather 
 tamely, " I just had to go away, you see. Now let 
 
 72
 
 The End of the Play 
 
 me go, and some day I will come back to you 
 and " 
 
 " Put me down, monsieur,"- she said gravely, 
 with one of those swift changes of mood which he 
 had often noticed before. " I insist upon it! 
 There, you may go now, but you will never come 
 back to me. I know it. You will be somebody 
 else's knight, and I " 
 
 Her little head drooped forward. He lifted his 
 hand to her chin, turned her face upward and kissed 
 her, and then drew her nearer to his breast as he 
 might have done a little sister. Yet it was not such 
 a kiss as a brother might have given, nor was it a 
 sister whose lips met his own. It was the first time 
 he or any man had kissed her, save her grandfather, 
 whose love did not express itself in frequent ca 
 resses. She was but a child, yet something thrilled 
 and leaped in her heart at his touch, and there was 
 a faint echo of her feeling, a brief response to her 
 heart-throb, in his own breast. 
 
 But in a moment she broke from his arms 
 never again could he hold her so as before. She 
 stood and looked at him from those glorious eyes 
 of hers, and time, in one swift moment, in the meet 
 ing kiss, wiped out the difference in years between 
 the two. His thoughts changed as he gazed upon 
 her. A new idea came to him. In a few years she 
 would have grown why not? 
 
 " Monsieur," she said at last, and the change in 
 her was evidenced by the gravity and the added 
 dignity of her manner, " you have kissed away the 
 child. I am a woman; you can not go now." 
 
 6 73
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 " Why not, Mademoiselle Anne? I can love 
 you from a distance for I swear, child or not, I 
 love you and I can come back." 
 
 " Love has nothing to do with this, monsieur, 
 now; I am a French woman. You must not go; 
 you shall not! You are a prisoner. The marquis 
 is absent. The castle is mine till he returns. I 
 am the chatelaine. I could never look my grand 
 father in the face again if I allowed you to escape." 
 
 " And how would you prevent it, Mademoiselle 
 Anne?" 
 
 " By standing in your way, so! " she answered, 
 stretching out her slender arms and barring the 
 window with her slight figure. "A feeble barrier, 
 you say; yet you were my knight even though 
 only in play and I, at least, do not forget it. Gen 
 tlemen do not pass to freedom over the bodies of 
 their ladies," she continued quaintly. 
 
 "Ah!" he cried, looking at her with mingled 
 pride and vexation, " I could brush you aside in a 
 moment." 
 
 " But you would not, Sir Philip," she went on, 
 lapsing into the old style of address. " Besides, I 
 should scream, and then and you can not go down 
 those rocks at night. The danger it would kill 
 me the thought hurts me here." 
 
 She laid her hand innocently upon her heart. 
 
 " The baron of old did it," he answered. 
 
 " Oh, yes; but he went for love." 
 
 " And I for liberty." 
 
 " And is liberty stronger than love, monsieur? " 
 
 " By Heaven, Little France," he answered im- 
 
 74
 
 The End of the Play 
 
 pulsively, calling her by a name which she loved to 
 hear, " I know not if it be! I am afraid 'tis not, 
 since " 
 
 " Since what, monsieur? " 
 
 " Since I stay here with you," he replied de 
 cisively. " Now, you must go to bed. I want not 
 your death upon my hands." 
 
 He stepped forward and lifted her in his arms 
 again. She weakly protested, but allowed it. 
 They both felt the end of the game had come, yet 
 for the last time she indulged herself. To-morrow 
 would see nay, to-night saw her a child no longer. 
 Yet she clung to the spirit of the play, the hardest 
 to be lost of all the ideas youth cherishes. 
 
 '* You promise me on your word of honour that 
 you will not seek to escape when I am gone to bed, 
 Sir Philip? " she asked, nestling against him, her 
 arms around his neck, her head on his shoulder, as 
 he carried her toward her chamber. 
 
 " I promise you, Lady Anne, on the faith of a 
 knight your knight." 
 
 " And you are not playing this time? " 
 
 " Not this time," he answered, setting her down 
 at the door of the room. " Good-night," he added, 
 pressing his lips as of old to the little brown hand. 
 
 " I trust you, Sir Philip," she answered. 
 " Good-night, and we will never play together as we 
 have." 
 
 " Yes, yes, to-morrow! " he cried after her, as 
 she shook her head sadly and disappeared. 
 
 " Good God, man! " said Grafton to himself, as 
 he sat down in his room to think it over, " you had 
 
 75
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 a glorious chance for liberty, and here you had to 
 indulge in theatrics with that little Rohan girl! 
 And you are fool enough to be satisfied with the 
 situation, my boy," he soliloquized. " Are you 
 falling in love with a little chit of thirteen? And 
 yet how she looked when I Pull yourself to 
 gether, man! Tis time to get out of here 
 
 Such a thing is preposterous and impossible at 
 best." 
 
 And yet he had lived long enough to know that 
 it is always the impossible that happens when hearts 
 are under consideration. 
 
 Fortunately it was only the next morning that 
 the marquis came home with the welcome tidings 
 for Grafton or were they unwelcome after all? 
 that he was exchanged, that he was free to go that 
 instant if he would. 
 
 " I am glad, Sir Philip," said Anne, weeping as 
 she bade him good-bye alone in the tower-room, 
 " that you didn't run away last night. You will be 
 my knight in earnest and come back to me some 
 day? You promise me? " 
 
 " Yes, in earnest," he answered, smiling, " and 
 some day I shall come back, I promise you." 
 
 76
 
 BOOK II 
 
 FOR THE EMPIRE OF THE WEST 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 THE GENERAL'S HEART 
 
 FIVE years had elapsed since Philip Grafton left 
 the Rose of the Rohans in tears, and a thousand 
 leagues of ocean now divided him from the old 
 Breton tower; five years filled with high endeavour 
 and honourable enterprise. He had risen to the 
 rank of post-captain some years since and had been 
 successfully engaged in his profession in many seas. 
 His father had died meanwhile and he was alone in 
 the world. To no woman among the many who 
 had looked love in his eyes had he given his affec 
 tion, and his friends regarded him as a confirmed 
 bachelor. Was he still dreaming of Anne? It is 
 enough to say he had not forgotten her perhaps 
 that is all. 
 
 It was evening on the twelfth of September, 
 1759, a clear though moonless night. The wind fell 
 as the sun set, and the ships slowly drifted up the 
 river with the heavy flood-tide. On the shore to 
 the left lay the camp of Bougainville. The white 
 tents of the soldiery on the heights of Cap-Rouge 
 could be dimly detected in the soft illumination 
 
 77
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 from the irradiating stars overhead. Lights 
 twinkled here and there on the heights, or moved 
 along on the crest of the bluffs, showing that, as 
 usual, the French were on the alert and watchful. 
 
 There was much unwonted but subdued bustle 
 on the English fleet as well. Men were being pa 
 raded and mustered on the decks, arms and equip 
 ments looked to, ammunition pouches rilled to reple 
 tion, and the haversacks and canteens of the men 
 provided with food and water, for it was hardly 
 known when and where they would get anything to 
 eat after they left the ships. 
 
 Far down the river the distant lights on Cape 
 Diamond were almost hidden in clouds of smoke, 
 and the muffled yet continuous roaring of the heavy 
 guns from Admiral Saunders' ships of the line and 
 the batteries at Point Levis, with the answer of the 
 French from the works at Beauport and the citadel 
 of Quebec, told a tale of furious cannonade. The 
 admiral was certainly doing his part. As he had 
 promised, he would keep them busy at his end of 
 the line. 
 
 Four bells in the first night watch had just been 
 struck on the fifty-gun ship Sutherland, carrying 
 the flag of Admiral Holmes, commanding the 
 squadron off Cap-Rouge, when a boat was seen 
 making its way through the water approaching 
 the starboard gangway of the ship. Hails passed 
 between the Sutherland and the approaching 
 cutter. 
 
 "Boat ahoy!" 
 
 " The Porcupine! " promptly answered a rather 
 78
 
 The General's Heart 
 
 small man in the stern-sheets of the boat, giving 
 the name of the vessel he commanded and following 
 his reply with the sharp command, " Way enough! 
 In bows! " 
 
 As he spoke he motioned to a midshipman who 
 sat beside him. Following his officer's direction, 
 the helm was put over and the boat swept gently 
 alongside the gangway, the men unshipping the 
 oars at the same time. 
 
 " Leave a keeper in the boat and let the men 
 go aboard the ship," continued the officer rising, 
 " then have the boat dropped astern. You will 
 follow me on deck, Mr. Robison," he added, as he 
 seized the manropes and ran rapidly up the battens 
 to the gangway. 
 
 " Good-evening, Captain Grafton," said the offi 
 cer of the deck, removing his cap and bowing low 
 to the newcomer as he stepped aboard. " The gen 
 eral has been asking for you." 
 
 "Ah, good-evening, Hatfield! You say the 
 general is waiting for me? Where is he? " 
 
 " In the cabin yonder, sir." 
 
 " That's well. Will you have me announced? " 
 
 " Mr. Giles," said Hatfield, turning to his own 
 midshipman, " present my compliments to the gen 
 eral and say that Captain Grafton is here to see 
 him." 
 
 "Ay, ay, sir! " replied the boy, touching his 
 cap and springing aft toward the cabin. 
 
 " 'Tis a fine night, Hatfield," remarked Grafton, 
 as they stood waiting. 
 
 " Indeed yes, sir." 
 
 79
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 "And a good time for our enterprise. I believe 
 it is set finally for this evening." 
 
 " I believe so, sir. The orders have been sent 
 around to all the ships." 
 
 "And time enough," responded Grafton. " We 
 can not stay in this cursed river much longer. Win 
 ter will soon be on us. Oh, by the way, you have 
 no objections to my men coming on deck, of 
 course? " 
 
 " None at all, sir," answered Hatfield. " Both 
 watches are on deck in anticipation of the expedi 
 tion, and they will disturb no one. Let them go 
 forward and make themselves at home." 
 
 " The general's compliments to Mr. Hatfield, 
 and will Captain Grafton please come below in the 
 cabin? " interrupted the midshipman. 
 
 " By the way, Hatfield," said Grafton, as he 
 turned to follow the midshipman, " where are Cap 
 tain Rous and the admiral?" 
 
 " Below, sir, in the admiral's cabin, supervising 
 the details for the evening. Do you go with them, 
 captain? " 
 
 " I believe that I am to have charge of the de 
 barkation," answered Grafton heartily; " would you 
 like to go? " 
 
 " Indeed I would, sir." 
 
 " Very well, I'll speak to Captain Rous. I shall 
 doubtless see you again in a few moments." 
 
 Presently Grafton entered the cabin. 
 
 " Ah, Grafton, glad to see you! " said a tall, thin 
 man seated at a table, who appeared to be very ill. 
 " Prompt as usual, I see." 
 
 80
 
 The General's Heart 
 
 " You said nine o'clock, general, and you know 
 we sailors can be quite as punctual as you gentle 
 men of the army wind and tide permitting, of 
 course." 
 
 " Well, captain, I but stay! You will excuse 
 us, Monckton, and gentlemen all, I am sure," said 
 the general, turning to his most trusted subordinate 
 and three or four staff officers with whom he had 
 been in consultation, " I have something of a pri 
 vate nature to say to Captain Grafton, and with 
 your permission no, no, keep your seats! " he 
 added, as he saw them rising, " we will withdraw 
 to the inner cabin. You see, I have two rooms, 
 Grafton, by the courtesy of Captain Rous, luxuri 
 ous quarters for a soldier in the course of an active 
 campaign." 
 
 The two men, bowing to the officers, who re 
 turned their salutations with elaborate courtesy, 
 withdrew into the inner cabin. Motioning the 
 sailor to a seat the general sank down on a transom, 
 rested his elbow on the port-sill, leaned his head 
 upon his hand, and gazed through the open port 
 toward Cap-Rouge. Grafton did not presume to 
 break the silence. 
 
 " Philip," he said at last, turning about and 
 leaning forward toward his friend, " we try it to 
 night." 
 
 " Yes, James." 
 
 " And you are to have charge of the boats." 
 
 " Thank you for that." 
 
 " I wanted a good man upon whom I could de 
 pend. There must be no miscarriage here if we can 
 
 81
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 help it. Tis our last chance. You saw Admiral 
 Saunders, as I requested? " 
 
 " Yes, and he delays sailing for a short time 
 longer, though he takes a great risk." 
 
 " A noble fellow! " exclaimed the young 
 general heartily. " If we fail to take the town, I 
 will ever bear testimony that our want of success 
 was not due to any lack of co-operation on his 
 part." 
 
 " Shall we succeed, think you, Wolfe? " asked 
 Grafton. 
 
 " What think you of the prospects your 
 self? " 
 
 " I am a sailor, I know little of such things. 
 Give me the deck of a ship and I am at home. I 
 fear nothing there unless it be a lee-shore but on 
 land I prefer your views." 
 
 " Shall we fail? God knows! " murmured 
 Wolfe softly, half soliloquizing. " I tried to turn 
 their flank on the Montmorenci and failed there. 
 I tried a direct attack on the Beauport lines and 
 failed again. This time I know not. The path's 
 a poor one at best. A hundred men at the top 
 might hold an army." There was another silence. 
 " Fail! " he said suddenly, as if awakened from a 
 dream. " Of course not! We shall not fail! We 
 can't fail! Philip, I must have Quebec! And 
 now, at that! 'Tis our last chance, and mine! 'Tis 
 sure a hard fate, but this body of mine is done for. 
 I may last for a few days longer, but my race is 
 about run." 
 
 " Don't say that, James! " exclaimed his boy- 
 82
 
 The General's Heart 
 
 hood friend, protesting even against the bitter as 
 surance in his heart of the truth of the dying sol 
 dier's words.* 
 
 " It isn't the saying, old friend, but the fact, that 
 makes it hard to bear and 'tis true. This poor 
 frail body is not equal to the demands I have 
 made upon it. If it carry me through to-night 
 and to-morrow I shall say naught. Death may 
 have its way. Peace, Philip! I know what you 
 would say, but I know myself 'tis useless. I want 
 to strike one good blow for old England before I 
 go. I should like to see the Cross of St. George 
 floating above Cape Diamond before but we 
 shall see. Stobo says the path is practicable. 
 He's a canny Scot and should know what he's talk 
 ing about. I have examined it carefully as we 
 floated past it, and I believe that we can get up. 
 Once let me get on those plains and I interpose 
 between Montcalm and his base of supplies. He 
 must fight, retreat, or surrender." 
 
 " Tis easy to tell," answered Grafton, " what he 
 will do then." 
 
 " Quite. He is a splendid soldier, as many of 
 our poor fellows have cause to know and a fighter 
 always. I honour him." 
 
 " But suppose you get caught between Mont- 
 calm and Bougainville's men from Cap-Rouge, 
 Wolfe? " 
 
 " The chances for their arriving on the field to 
 gether are very remote, and we must crush the one 
 who first makes his appearance. Then we can 
 easily deal with the other." 
 
 83
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 " Have you issued all the necessary orders? " 
 
 "All." 
 
 " Have you thought of everything? " 
 
 " Everything but defeat. The men are to enter 
 the boats about eleven o'clock," he continued. 
 " They are to row up the river as if to make a land 
 ing at Cap-Rouge and then return to the ships. 
 When the tide turns and the ebb begins they are to 
 drop silently down the river. The ships will fol 
 low after an hour's interval. The boats will land 
 the men at the designated point, and then go across 
 to the other side and ferry over Burton's troops, 
 who will have marched there before this, I presume. 
 Those are your orders, Grafton." 
 
 " What then? " 
 
 " Then we will bide the issue. 'Tis a desperate 
 hazard." 
 
 " Ay, desperate indeed." 
 
 " We play for a great stake, Grafton, and for 
 tune has been so hard to us perhaps the tide may 
 turn and luck may serve." 
 
 " You are too wise a man to be lucky, Wolfe," 
 responded the naval officer. 
 
 " Well, perhaps the luck will be with England, 
 then. In fact, it is. Two deserters from Cap- 
 Rouge have apprised us that a flotilla of provision 
 boats is to be sent down to Quebec to-night. We 
 will be that flotilla." 
 
 " Yes," laughed Grafton, " and give the French 
 such a breakfast as they will find it difficult to di 
 gest, I'll warrant." 
 
 " Quite so," said Wolfe smiling. " But now that 
 84
 
 The General's Heart 
 
 you have your official instructions, Philip, there is 
 another thing I want you to do for me." 
 
 "Anything on earth, old friend." 
 
 " I know that, I know that," answered the sol 
 dier. " You have always been a friend to me since 
 we were boys together in old England. No one 
 could be truer or better than you have been." 
 
 " Oh, that's all right! " answered Grafton has 
 tily, with the Anglo-Saxon inclination to the avoid 
 ance of a scene. " We have been friends since my 
 father sent me to the English school, where we met. 
 I was a little colonial lad from Massachusetts, and 
 mighty lonely I was, Jimmie, until you took me 
 up and championed me." 
 
 " But you fought your own battles, Phil." 
 
 " You saw that I had fair play, anyway. I'll 
 .tell you what it is, Wolfe, if your body only equalled 
 your spirit, what a knight you would have been! " 
 
 "Well, it's about that body that I want to 
 speak. As I told you, I am doomed. I shall never 
 get back to England alive; the sickness upon me is 
 mortal. The physicians have said so, and I feel that 
 it is true. Look at me, you can see for yourself! 
 If it were not for the fight I should be on my back 
 now, and if I have to die I'd rather do it on the 
 field yonder after we have won, of course but 
 that's as God pleases. This is what I want you 
 to do." 
 
 As he spoke the young general unbuttoned his 
 waistcoat, loosened his tie, and drew from his neck 
 a little gold chain to which was attached a golden 
 locket inclosed in a tight leather case. He slipped 
 
 85
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 the chain over his head, drew the locket from the 
 case, opened it and held it toward the light. He 
 looked long and earnestly at the picture it con 
 tained the portrait of a young and lovely woman. 
 Observing that his friend had considerately turned 
 his head, he raised it softly to his lips. A single 
 tear fell upon the ivory miniature as he closed the 
 locket, slipped it back in the leather case and ex 
 tended it to Grafton. Deep tribute of affection lies 
 in the tear of a soldier of a soldier like Wolfe. 
 
 " When you get back to England, old friend," 
 he said slowly, " I want you to give this to Katha 
 rine Lowther, and tell her how, the night before I 
 before the battle, I mean, I gave it to you in the 
 cabin of the ship, and how I loved her to the end. 
 I have sent my farewells to my mother and the rest 
 by some who know them, but I lay this last duty 
 upon you. Nay, man, slip it around your neck. 
 'Twill not hurt Kitty, 'twould not hurt any girl 
 to have her portrait worn against so honest a man's 
 heart. And " he hesitated, " don't mention this 
 to any one, and see that it does not leave your per 
 son until you give it to her. Now, Philip, we must 
 go. Your hand, old friend, and good-bye." 
 
 " God bless you, Jim," answered Philip, his 
 voice choking with emotion. " On my word I will 
 tell no one of it, and no one shall see it or know it 
 until I give it to Miss Lowther. I pledge you, old 
 friend. But I won't say good-bye. I hope to con 
 gratulate you to-morrow in Quebec." 
 
 86
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE BEGINNING OF THE HAZARD 
 
 Six bells were striking on the Sutherland as 
 Wolfe and Grafton came out of the cabin. As the 
 sound of the mournful couplets rang out through 
 the night the bells of the other vessels caught up 
 the slow refrain and the sound was repeated from 
 ship to ship over the dark river. The character of 
 the night had changed slightly. Faint clouds were 
 drifting athwart the star-lit heavens, and there were 
 heavy banks to the southward which looked like 
 rain. 
 
 " Will you show the signals, Admiral Holmes? " 
 asked Wolfe, as he stepped on deck. " We are all 
 ready, I believe, sir." 
 
 " Very well, general," responded the admiral, 
 turning to Captain Rous and giving him an order. 
 A moment later two lanterns were hoisted, one 
 above the other, at the spanker-gaff end. The 
 signal was immediately repeated throughout the 
 squadron. Shrill whistles rang out as the boat 
 swain's mates of the different ships bawled out 
 hoarse commands. 
 
 Instantly the soldiers and sailors came swarming 
 to their stations. 
 
 87
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 " Colonel Howe," said General Wolfe, address 
 ing an officer of the light infantry, who appeared 
 at the head of his men, " after you have mustered 
 your battalion will you explain to them that I have 
 designated them to lead the way in the attack to 
 night? Choose a forlorn hope of twenty-four men 
 to scale the heights, sir." 
 
 "'Tis an honour indeed, sir, and I thank you," 
 answered the young officer, smiling with pleasure. 
 " I myself will lead them." 
 
 " I expected as much of you. Captain Graf- 
 ton," he said, turning to the sailor and resuming 
 the formal method of public address, " will you see 
 that your flotilla of boats is ready to receive my 
 men?" 
 
 " I know it is, sir, but I will look again," an 
 swered Grafton. " Captain Rous, may I take Lieu 
 tenant Hatfield in my boat to assist me? " 
 
 " Certainly," answered Rous, a veteran sailor. 
 
 Followed by the delighted officer, Grafton 
 sprang to the gangway and called for his gig. 
 Meanwhile Howe was addressing the light infantry. 
 When he called for volunteers every man respond 
 ed, and it was difficult to make selection of the re 
 quired number. Presently, upon Grafton's assur 
 ance that all was ready, the men slowly filed down 
 over the side and took their places in the boats. 
 Taking his own boat the captain rowed from ship 
 to ship, finding that all preparations had been made 
 everywhere, and that boats filled with men and 
 manned by stout seamen were already clustered 
 under the lee of the ships where they could be 
 
 88
 
 The Beginning of the Hazard 
 
 screened from the observation of the French at Cap- 
 Rouge. 
 
 By twelve o'clock, midnight, the embarkation 
 had been completed, and as it was nearing the end 
 of the flood the boats slowly put off from the ships 
 and headed for Cap-Rouge, General Monckton be 
 ing in charge and Wolfe remaining on the Suther 
 land for the present. 
 
 The flotilla approached close enough to Cap- 
 Rouge thoroughly to awaken the attention of the 
 troops of Bougainville, who sprang to their arms in 
 expectation of the threatening attack. But the 
 advance was stopped before they were near enough 
 to engage. After some little manoeuvring off 
 the shore, the boats, as if deterred by the prompt 
 ness of the French soldiery, rowed back to the 
 ships and sheltered themselves under the lee of 
 their broadsides again where they could not 
 be seen. Once there, the men, without going 
 aboard the ships, waited patiently for the turning 
 of the tide. 
 
 At four bells in the mid-watch, or two o'clock on 
 the morning of the thirteenth, Wolfe entered the 
 heavy cutter which Grafton had exchanged for his 
 gig, and gave the signal to shove off. Following 
 the general's boat came the boats of the light in 
 fantry, and after them the rest of the flotilla. 
 
 It was darker than ever. The sky was filled 
 with light fleecy clouds drifting rapidly across the 
 stars, their wild motion, driven as they were by 
 some upper current of air, only accentuating the 
 stillness on the water. Hugging the opposite 
 7 89
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 shore for a time the boats floated silently down the 
 river with the young ebb. As they appeared to 
 be unnoticed from the camp at Cap-Rouge and as 
 their manoeuvres excited no attention, oars were 
 broken out and the boats crossed to the Quebec 
 side, the seamen rowing gently as they passed rap 
 idly down the river. 
 
 The men had received strict orders and they sat 
 in the cutters and bateaux, which had been pro 
 vided to supplement the ships' boats, in silence, 
 broken only here and there by a whispered word or 
 two among the officers aft or by the muffled rattle 
 of the oars in the row-locks. The ebb was running 
 stronger now and, with the current, but little work 
 was necessary to enable them to reach the desired 
 point in good time. 
 
 Wolfe, wrapped in a boat-cloak, for the air had 
 grown chill, sat in the stern-sheets of Grafton's 
 boat, half-reclining, his long legs stretched out 
 before him. Grafton himself held the tiller. Mid 
 shipman Robison, Lieutenant Hatfield of the 
 Sutherland, General Monckton, and one or two 
 staff officers, made up the party. 
 
 Forward in the boat sat Captain Stobo, who had 
 discovered the whereabouts of the landing-place 
 while a prisoner at Quebec, and who had under 
 taken to pilot them in. By his side was a Scots 
 man, an officer of Frazer's Highlanders, who, in 
 the Jacobite court of the Stuarts in France, had 
 learned to speak French fluently. He had recently 
 given his allegiance to King George and was to 
 serve him well that night. Wolfe respected his 
 
 90
 
 The Beginning of the Hazard 
 
 own orders and said but little as they floated down 
 the stream past the black frowning cliffs and the 
 tree-clad hills. 
 
 There was a young man living in England then, 
 named Thomas Gray, who was a great friend of 
 Wolfe's; and a certain piece of poetry which he had 
 written, and which was beginning to be much 
 thought of there and much more thought of since 
 came into the mind of the soldier as they drifted 
 down the river. Perhaps he mused on the inevi 
 table conclusion personally before him; perhaps, 
 by one of these strange premonitions which seem 
 sometimes to visit those doomed to die, there may 
 have flashed before his mind in that still hour a vi 
 sion of his triumph and of his end; the dawn already 
 beginning with pale grayness " to lace the east " 
 may have brought to his mind the " breezy call of 
 incense-breathing morn," and have suggested the 
 poem. At any rate, he broke the silence by re 
 peating some of the mystic, mournful lines. He 
 spoke in a low whisper, half-soliloquizing, yet all in 
 the boat could hear him. 
 
 The night, the silence, the broad bosom of the 
 noble river, the towering cliffs close at hand, all 
 impressed the intent listeners. Most of them were 
 blunt soldiers or sailors, men bred to the profession 
 of arms, who lived the hard life of the army or navy 
 in that rude day, who cared but little for the finer 
 arts and graces of life; yet the impressiveness of the 
 moment, the fancy of it, the pregnant future, the 
 mystery of to-morrow, their desperate hazard, 
 caught hold of them in some strange way. With
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 bated breath they listened to the voice of the young 
 general, which sounded prophetic even to them, as 
 he quoted: 
 
 " The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, 
 
 And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, 
 Await alike the inevitable hour 
 
 The paths of glory lead but to the grave." 
 
 As the words fell from his lips he stopped, as if 
 startled by their significance. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he said at last, " I would rather 
 have written that poem than take Quebec." 
 
 He was silent again for a little space after this 
 surprising declaration. No one broke the reverie 
 in which the general seemed plunged after that, and 
 before he spoke again a voice called out from the 
 black mass of the shore: 
 
 " Qui vivel " 
 
 It was the old cry of the soldiers of France; the 
 bold demand with which, as of yore, they met their 
 ancient foes, rang sharply over the waters through 
 the night. 
 
 " France! " promptly replied the Jacobite in the 
 bow, with ready presence of mind. 
 
 " A quel regiment! " called the hidden sentry. 
 
 " De la Reine! " was the reply in excellent 
 French. 
 
 It was the name of one of the regiments known 
 to be with Bougainville. So far the conversation 
 had been easy, but if the Frenchman asked more, if 
 he demanded the password what then? The men 
 in the boat held their breath as they drifted on, but 
 
 92
 
 The Beginning of the Hazard 
 
 the unseen watcher was satisfied, apparently, for he 
 said nothing more. 
 
 " This augurs well for our success," whispered 
 Wolfe to Grafton after the last boat had passed the 
 danger point. "He evidently thinks we are " 
 
 He was interrupted again. They were nearer 
 the shore now. There were fewer trees too. A 
 challenge rang out over the water once more. 
 They could see this sentry running toward the bank 
 of the river. This one was wiser than the other; he 
 demanded to know what boats those were. 
 
 " Provision boats for Quebec," answered the 
 Scotsman readily. " Be quiet! Don't make a 
 noise or the English will hear us! " 
 
 As it happened there was an English sloop out 
 in the river, and the man, waving his hand, said no 
 more. They were safe again. But the suspense 
 was terrible. Fortunately it was soon relieved. 
 Presently the boats swept around a huge headland 
 jutting out into the stream. Below the headland 
 lay a little cove. The current shot swiftly about the 
 promontory and swept around the little bay. The 
 boats were carried below the landing-place and it 
 took some hard pulling before their stems touched 
 the shore. 
 
 Wolfe had gone forward in the cutter, and the 
 others drawing back to give him passage, he was 
 the first man to set foot upon the muddy shore. It 
 was four o'clock now. They could hear eight bells 
 chiming faintly from a ship in the river. Dawn 
 was beginning across the hills. Around them in 
 the shadow it was as still as death that most silent 
 
 93
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 hour before the day breaks. A gentle breeze had 
 sprung up and was sighing softly through the trees 
 at the top of the cliff; the sky was overcast; they 
 would have rain presently. 
 
 About two hundred feet away, since it was low 
 tide, the bluffs rose precipitously from the level 
 beach. There was room at their base to disem 
 bark the whole army. After Wolfe and the officers, 
 including Grafton, had landed, the light infantry 
 noiselessly clambered out of the boats and ad 
 vanced toward the foot of the cliffs. 
 
 It was as dark as midnight under their shadow, 
 but at the top the first grayness of the coming 
 morning was dimly perceptible. Trees were sil 
 houetted against the sky, and the tents, white blurs, 
 could be seen from the river. The enemy was there, 
 then. Was he ready? They would soon know. 
 
 A zigzag path, up which a single file of men 
 might with difficulty make its way, broke the sheer 
 face of the cliff. It had been barricaded with heavy 
 timbers and was at present unscalable. 
 
 There was a momentary pause. 
 
 It seemed as if the whole enterprise, so bril 
 liantly conceived and so successfully carried out 
 hitherto, would be blocked by this unfortunate 
 obstacle. They had succeeded in landing unob 
 served, but if they attempted to tear down the bar 
 ricade they would inevitably attract the attention 
 of the negligent defenders at the top of the path. 
 Under such circumstances the attempt would have 
 to be given over. As Wolfe had said, one hundred 
 men might hold that towering cliff against an army. 
 
 94
 
 The Beginning of the Hazard 
 
 " I think we can scramble up the cliff by the aid 
 of these trees," said Howe at last. 
 
 It was a bold proposition. Wolfe looked at 
 him gratefully and approvingly. It was their only 
 chance, and the young general gave the signal for 
 the attempt in these not very encouraging words: 
 
 " You may try it, Colonel Howe, but I do not 
 think you will succeed. Captain," he added, turn 
 ing to one of his staff, " tell General Monckton to 
 keep the rest of the men quiet in the boats for a few 
 moments. We may have no need for them." 
 
 As he spoke Howe and his gallant twenty-four 
 sprang at the cliff. They were soon lost in the 
 shadow covering the face of it, and the watchers 
 below could trace the course of their slow and pain 
 ful ascent by the crashing sounds they made, as by 
 the aid of stunted trees growing in clumps here 
 and there they made their toilsome way upward. 
 Why the French did not discover them has never 
 been explained. 
 
 The whole future history of the world depended 
 upon the success of the endeavour of that gallant 
 little handful of men, and though they may not have 
 realized it as we do now, something of the impor 
 tance of the attempt made itself felt even to them. 
 Wolfe, leaning his enfeebled form against a tree, 
 stood with his face turned upward at earnest gaze. 
 Graf ton, who stood nearest him, heard him whisper: 
 
 " Pray God, they may make it! Pray God! " 
 
 Presently the sounds died away altogether. 
 The silence was broken by the sound of a musket- 
 shot, followed by another and another. A quick 
 
 95
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 fusillade rang out from the sky above them. They 
 were there, then! They were engaged! What 
 had been the issue? 
 
 Concealment was no longer possible or desir 
 able. At a word from their commander the men 
 on shore sprang at the barricades. The scene 
 changed from one of absolute quiet to intense 
 activity. 
 
 " Have they won, think you? " asked Grafton. 
 
 " We shall know in a moment," answered 
 Wolfe. " If they have lost, somebody will come 
 tumbling down the cliff to tell the tale. Mean 
 while, I am staking all on the chance of their suc 
 cess." 
 
 The little cove was now filled with noise. 
 Catching the contagion the men began to spring 
 from the boats and fell in on the shore. The feel 
 ings of the soldiers, repressed so long through the 
 night, found vent in cheers and cries. Presently 
 a hail came down from the cliff. It was Howe's 
 voice. 
 
 "We have the post!" he shouted. "The 
 enemy has fled! The way is open! " 
 
 " Hold it at all hazards! " cried the commander. 
 
 The cheering men fairly tore the barricades to 
 pieces and scrambled up the path, Wolfe himself 
 in the lead. Captain de Vergor, who commanded 
 the French guard, was incapable and a coward. He 
 had kept negligent watch. Howe and his handful 
 of men had surprised them. The fall of New 
 France must be laid at the feet of one person; and, 
 singularly enough, the beginning of American in- 
 
 96
 
 The Beginning of the Hazard 
 
 dependence may be traced to the splendid exploit 
 of the young soldier, who, as a general long after, 
 at Long Island, White Plains, Brandywine, and 
 Germantown, did his best to stop its course. 
 
 The party who gained the top found themselves 
 upon a grassy plateau whose level surface was 
 broken by slight undulations. From this vantage- 
 ground they could see far down the river. They 
 seemed to be lifted in air on the roof of the world. 
 Quebec lay before them, but hidden by the undu 
 lations of the plateau. Clumps of trees rose here 
 and there, but the ground was mainly clear. It 
 was plainly morning now. Wolfe's first words were 
 those of hearty thanks and congratulation to the 
 young colonel of the light infantry. Then he 
 turned to his friend, who had followed him up the 
 hill: 
 
 " Go back to the boats, Captain Grafton," he 
 cried, " and use all speed to bring the men under 
 Burton over from the other side! Ah," he ex 
 claimed, sweeping the river with his glance, " yon 
 der come the ships drifting down with the tide! 
 Despatch Lieutenant Hatfield to Admiral Holmes 
 with my compliments and ask him to have the rest 
 of the men landed from the ships at once. I think 
 it would be possible to get a few of the six-pounders 
 up the path. Perhaps the admiral will send sea 
 men to attend to it. We shall need them sadly, if 
 I mistake not." 
 
 ' Think you we shall have a fight this morn 
 ing? " asked Grafton. 
 
 " I am sure of it ! " 
 
 97
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 " I shall endeavour to be back in season to join 
 in then," answered the sailor, turning away. 
 
 " I think you will have ample time," said Wolfe, 
 smiling at the sentiments of his friend. 
 
 As Grafton descended the path Wolfe de 
 spatched Howe, with his light infantry, to attend 
 to the important duty of silencing the adjacent 
 French posts. 
 
 98
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 ON THE ROOF OF THE WORLD 
 
 IT was ten o'clock in the morning. Every 
 available English soldier had been landed on the 
 Quebec side and had scrambled up the cliffs to the 
 Plains of Abraham. The hours intervening since 
 the first attack had not been idle ones. French 
 batteries erected at Samos and Sillery, not far dis 
 tant, and on either side of the cove, had been gal 
 lantly taken by assault, and scouting parties had 
 cleared the adjacent country of stragglers. The 
 sailors under Grafton by herculean endeavour had 
 drawn two six-pounders to the crest of the pla 
 teau. Since eight o'clock in the morning these 
 two guns, excellently served by the seamen, had 
 been replying to a heavy fire from the three larger 
 guns of the French, who had begun assembling as 
 early as six o'clock on the hill beyond the English 
 position. 
 
 From the covert afforded by the trees and un 
 derbrush on the side of the St. Charles River valley, 
 as well as on the St. Lawrence edge, Indian and 
 backwoods sharp-shooters had been pouring a gall 
 ing rifle fire upon the English, to which no effective 
 reply could be made. The thin red line of soldiers 
 
 99
 
 The )uiberon Touch 
 
 that had so often stood between humanity's prog 
 ress and the armed world in opposition, keeping 
 open the pathway of the future, was drawn up in 
 three ranks. The lines were not long enough to 
 reach across the plateau, and the left flank, where 
 Townshend commanded, was refused drawn back 
 at a right angle from the battle front. 
 
 Colonel Burton, with the light infantry, was 
 held in reserve to anticipate a possible attack from 
 Bougainville. That worthy officer, however, 
 knew nothing of the landing and remained quietly 
 in camp at Cap-Rouge, expecting the return of the 
 British ships with the changing tide. The sky was 
 overcast, and fitful showers, light in character and 
 brief in duration, besprinkled the sod, soon to be 
 wetted by a liquid substance of greater consistence 
 and more ominous colour. 
 
 If the scarlet-clad Englishmen presented a vivid 
 though menacing picture to the French, the aspect 
 of the latter was sufficiently picturesque to awaken 
 the admiration of their foes. Very handsome the 
 white coats of the French regulars looked against 
 the green grass that morning. Alas! many of them 
 were destined to sport the red colours of England 
 before the day was decided. 
 
 Monsieur de Montcalm and his officers, on 
 horseback, rode to and fro addressing and arrang 
 ing their lines in plain view. There was much 
 cheering and shouting on the one hand, much 
 grim, dour silence on the other. The essential ra 
 cial differences between the two nations were 
 well marked in the varying demeanour of the two 
 
 100
 
 On the Roof of the World 
 
 armies. There was no lack of courage and spirit in 
 either. 
 
 Of course there were no horses in the British 
 army, and Wolfe and his staff, with all the other 
 officers, were forced to go afoot. The young gen 
 eral did not look an heroic figure. Tall, thin, 
 stooping, emaciated, red-headed, pale, freckled; a 
 most unmilitary cast of countenance, with retreat 
 ing forehead and weakly sloping chin; never were a 
 physiognomy and appearance so belied by charac 
 ter. The sparkle of his red-brown eyes was the 
 only thing that indicated the transcendent great 
 ness of the man. 
 
 Few commanders have been so esteemed and 
 loved by the men they led as he, and the affection 
 and respect in which they held him were warranted, 
 for his mettle had been proved. No mere freak of 
 fortune, no lucky chance had put him in his present 
 position. He had won preferment by desert. This 
 morning was but the final demonstration of his 
 courage and capacity, the culmination of a brief 
 but rarely brilliant career. 
 
 Some of the men behind Wolfe had followed 
 him through the surf that beat upon the rock-bound 
 shores of Cape Breton off Louisburg, and they 
 knew what he could do. There was, indeed, sore 
 need for the manifestation of the highest skill, the 
 exercise of the most dauntless courage. There was 
 no disguising the serious nature of the situation 
 before them. Opposed to them was a general who 
 was the very flower of the French captains of his 
 age. The battalions under his command had fairly 
 
 101
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 beaten the English at far-off Oswego, at Fort Wil 
 liam Henry, and with most awful slaughter at tree- 
 clad Ticonderoga. Drawn from the most famous 
 regiments of old France, they had worthily upheld 
 their ancient traditions of valour on many a New- 
 World field. 
 
 The two armies were about equal in number. 
 The qualities of the French regulars were as high 
 as those of the British army, but the average of the 
 French force was sadly diminished by the fact that 
 the larger portion of their army was made up of 
 Canadian militia. These hardy peasants were ex 
 cellent fighters in forest service, but poor material 
 indeed with which to face regular troops in the 
 open. 
 
 But Montcalm had been hasty. He might have 
 waited longer, until Bougainville with his excel 
 lent division had joined him, or at least reached a 
 position from which he could support the French 
 attack by a demonstration in force in the rear of the 
 English. Fight the French must, of course, or 
 starve, but they would not have starved in a few 
 hours, and a few hours might have materially 
 changed the situation. There were battery after 
 battery of field-pieces back in Quebec which should 
 have been despatched to Montcalm's assistance. 
 His repeated and most pressing requests to de 
 Ramesay, the commander, had only brought three 
 guns to him, and the cowardly de Vaudreuil, the 
 Governor of the Province, was holding at Beau- 
 port thousands of men idle in their intrenchments, 
 who should have been despatched to his assistance. 
 
 102
 
 On the Roof of the World 
 
 How explain the Frenchman's reckless haste? 
 The fact was that Montcalm had always beaten the 
 English. He had never in his whole career met a 
 single commander among them who appeared to 
 have the slightest military genius, and he made the 
 fatal mistake of despising his foes. Perhaps the 
 fact that they lay there stubbornly taking the gall 
 ing skirmish fire from the coverts on either flank 
 so silently, in spite of its ghastly effectiveness, re 
 plying only to his heavier guns with their two six- 
 pounders, gave him greater confidence; at any rate, 
 at ten in the morning he ordered an advance. 
 
 With feverish impatience the English held 
 themselves in restraint under the peremptory orders 
 of their commander. As Wolfe saw the French ris 
 ing on the crest of the hill, giving evidence of their 
 intention to join battle in close encounter, he 
 walked rapidly up and down his own line speak 
 ing those simple, hearty words of encouragement, 
 as he passed by his soldiery, which do much to 
 make a man a hero. A quiver of delight ran 
 through the compact ranks. With fierce pleasure 
 the men looked to their pieces and made themselves 
 ready. 
 
 It was to be a direct attack in force, a test of 
 marksmanship and endurance, no manoeuvring, no 
 bewildering tactics, just a fierce give and take and 
 the best man to win a game the English loved to 
 play, and one they played well. Montcalm on his 
 black horse on the brow of the hill raised his hand. 
 It was coming, then. There was a stir in the 
 French ranks. The pieces were raised to the 
 
 103
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 shoulders. The general's hand fell. Ah, it was 
 upon them! 
 
 Suddenly the crest of the slope in front of them 
 was tipped with flame and covered with smoke. 
 The rattle of arms crashed over the field. Bullets 
 rang through the morning air. Men were dropping 
 here and there among the ranks of the stolid British; 
 some moaned and shrieked in the anguish of shat 
 tered limb or torn body, and some lay still and quiet 
 in the grass, recking little, minding nothing of the 
 roar of battle about them. The French, after the 
 first volley, began firing continuously and irregu 
 larly, still advancing. 
 
 Suddenly, when the cheering and yelling white- 
 coats had reached a point perhaps one hundred 
 yards away, a sharp command rang out in English. 
 The officers repeated Wolfe's signal. 
 
 " Steady! Ready! Aim!" 
 
 Be quiet all, for now was the time! The mus 
 kets of the waiting red ranks came smartly down. 
 
 "Fire!" 
 
 The first rank delivered a volley which crashed 
 over the plateau like cannon-shot. Their drill 
 was magnificent. A moment of startling silence 
 supervened and the second rank repeated the per 
 formance. Ere the echoes of the discharge had 
 died away among the hills, the third rank sent its 
 sheet of destruction in the face of the advancing 
 men. The field was covered with thick smoke. 
 The English could see nothing. For a moment no 
 reply was made to them. Then a scattered fire, 
 confessing weakness by its feebleness, ran along 
 
 104
 
 On the Roof of the World 
 
 the French line. Again and again the deadly 
 discharge of the English was poured out. The 
 French seemed to be making no reply at all. 
 Presently there was a slight respite and the 
 smoke cleared away, revealing a horrid picture of 
 carnage. 
 
 The crest of the hill was covered with bodies. 
 Most of the horsemen were down. Montcalm and 
 one or two officers were striving desperately to re 
 form their men. The Canadian militia, unable to 
 stand against such a fearful fire, had melted away. 
 The French grenadiers, the white-coated regulars, 
 were rallying in bewildered little knots here and 
 there upon their officers. The French advance was 
 completely barred. Now was the moment to 
 strike. 
 
 " The picture? " said Wolfe to Graf ton, who was 
 standing by him. " You have it? " 
 
 " Here." 
 
 " Remember and good-bye, old friend. Now, 
 gentlemen," he cried, " let us go at them. For 
 ward! " 
 
 Like a common soldier the young general, 
 sword up, face smiling, put himself at the head of 
 the Louisburg grenadiers. The French had at last 
 got into some sort of order, rallying in thin, broken, 
 and exhausted lines. Their courage was superb. 
 They saw death in the advancing mass of the Brit 
 ish infantry, but they did not waver. The battle 
 was lost to them; they would strike another blow 
 at any rate. 
 
 It was the English who cheered now, the 
 8 105
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 French had passed the cheering stage. This time 
 it was they who poured their volleys into the ad 
 vancing British. The execution done among them 
 was fearful. A bullet shattered the wrist of the 
 general. He caught a handkerchief about it and 
 pressed on. A second shot hit him, but still he did 
 not falter. A third bullet struck him full in the 
 breast; he staggered a moment and fell. With a 
 fierce yell for revenge his army swept by him. A 
 last volley from the French and bayonets crossed 
 in the smoke. 
 
 Wolfe, in the rear of the line, was down and dy 
 ing. It needed no surgeon to translate the look 
 of death upon his face. Grafton knelt by him and 
 took his hand, tears streaming down his face. The 
 path of glory was indeed ending here. Others 
 quickly assembled where the soldier lay bleeding to 
 death on the field. 
 
 " The battle," whispered the dying man. " Tell 
 me?" 
 
 "They run! They run!" cried Grafton, rising 
 and surveying the field. 
 
 " Who run? " he asked, eagerly opening his 
 eyes and looking up at his friend from where he lay 
 in the arms of the surgeon on the grass, stained red 
 by his own blood. 
 
 "The enemy! The enemy! They give way 
 everywhere! " 
 
 " Go, one of you, to Colonel Burton," said 
 Wolfe, smiling weakly, " and tell him to march 
 Webb's regiment down to the St. Charles River to 
 cut off their retreat from the bridge." 
 
 106
 
 On the Roof of the World 
 
 It was the last thought of a soldier his duty. 
 He sank back in the arms of his attendants. 
 
 Philip, filled with grief, dropped on his knees be 
 side him. Wolfe opened his eyes again for a mo 
 ment. 
 
 " Philip," he whispered, " remember the picture 
 Quebec " He turned on his side. " Now, 
 God be praised," he murmured, " I will die in 
 peace." 
 
 There was a fierce struggle going on all over the 
 field. The French were dying hard. Grafton ran 
 along the line to inform Monckton, the second in 
 command, of Wolfe's death. He found that briga 
 dier desperately wounded, and then ran over to the 
 left flank to carry the news to Townshend, the sec 
 ond brigadier. 
 
 Aided by heavy skirmishers in the wood, and by 
 the fact that Townshend was compelled to refuse his 
 lines, the battle had been more fiercely contested 
 here than elsewhere. A squadron of cavalry, the 
 only party of horse on the field, which had been 
 sent scouting by Bougainville, suddenly appeared 
 on the flank, and charged furiously down upon 
 Townshencl's men. They gave way. That general 
 had started for the centre of the army when Grafton 
 told him the sad tidings, and at his request the 
 sailor hurried to the extreme left flank. 
 
 Without thinking that he was left unsupported 
 by the temporary retreat of the English soldiers, 
 Grafton sprang forward to meet the cavalry. He 
 brought down the first horseman with his pistol, but 
 the second struck his cutlass from his outstretched 
 
 107
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 hand, inflicting a deep cut in his arm, and the third 
 caught him by the collar. 
 
 " I'll take this one prisoner. Yield, monsieur! " 
 he cried in French. 
 
 " We are beaten! " cried the officer commanding 
 the cavalry, as the English rallied and came forward 
 again. " Look, we give way everywhere ! Sauve 
 que pent, mes braves! " 
 
 " I don't lose this man, though," said the soldier 
 stubbornly. " Will you run, or be dragged? " he 
 called to Grafton. Not waiting for a reply, he 
 wheeled his horse, and, keeping tight hold of Graf- 
 ton, galloped off with the rest. 
 
 It was not a dignified position, but there was 
 nothing for him to do but to strive to keep his feet 
 as best he might. If he fell he would be trampled 
 to death by the horses; -if he did not run he would 
 probably be dragged until he choked. He was a 
 wise as well as a brave man, so he struggled desper 
 ately on. 
 
 His arm had been badly wounded by the blow 
 which had disabled it, and as his captor reached the 
 St. Louis Gate of the city a bullet struck him in the 
 back. His strength finally gave way at that, and he 
 fainted. He was a small man, and the big trooper 
 lifted him to the front of the saddle by some unex 
 plained impulse, laid him across the horse, and held 
 him there as he forced his way into the panting, ter 
 rified mass of retreating soldiery. 
 
 Ahead of them was an officer on a big black 
 horse. He was deadly pale, and blood was trickling 
 over the white lace of his shirt and staining his open 
 
 1 08
 
 On the Roof of the World 
 
 waistcoat. He would have fallen from his horse had 
 not two soldiers on either side supported him. He 
 sat with his hands on the pommel of the saddle, 
 leaning forward. His face wore a stricken look. 
 Tears were trickling down his cheeks not on ac 
 count of his wounds, however, but from a deeper 
 hurt. It was Montcalm. 
 
 The gate was open now, and the fugitives were 
 pouring through. Inside the walls a crowd of 
 women, children, and old men were congregated in 
 the Rue St. Louis. There was weeping and wailing 
 and wringing of hands as the wounded, battered, 
 shattered, terrified mass of fugitives swept through 
 the gate. The deadly rattle of small-arms, which 
 since early morning had kept up without the walls, 
 had nearly died away. The bugles of England were 
 calling a halt, the red-coats were assembling on their 
 colours. They were too weak to assault the ram 
 parts yet, and therefore allowed the shattered 
 French army to enter the city. Presently the mar 
 quis, still on his horse, was drawn within the gate 
 by the eddying crowd. 
 
 " Oh, mon Dieu! mon Dieu! Le Marquis est 
 tui!" cried a woman. 
 
 Her words were taken up by the crowd, who 
 loved the great and gentle soldier with a passionate 
 devotion which they withheld from the thieving 
 scoundrels who made up the civil government. 
 Even then his first thought was for the people. As 
 he heard the cries of the multitude he lifted his head 
 and said: 
 
 " Ce n'est rien, ce n'est rien; ne vous afftigez pas 
 109
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 pour moi, mcs bonnes amies." (It is nothing, it is 
 nothing; do not be troubled for me, my good 
 friends.) 
 
 Meanwhile the dragoon, with Grafton lying limp 
 across his saddle, rode a few rods down the street 
 until he escaped from the thick of the crowd. Then 
 he turned his attention to his prisoner. The Eng 
 lishman was lying pale and apparently lifeless before 
 him. 
 
 " Nom de chien! " cried the Frenchman. " Have 
 I been carrying a dead man all this time? " 
 
 With an expression of disgust he lifted him from 
 his saddle and let him slide to the ground. He was 
 riding near the pavement at the time and the street 
 was narrow. The soldier had not thrown him 
 roughly, and Philip slipped gently down upon the 
 sidewalk, his head falling rather heavily against the 
 open doorstep. A woman standing gazing from the 
 door screamed and shrank back. The shock and 
 the pain of his wounds caused him to open his eyes. 
 He was dimly conscious of a face as beautiful as an 
 angel's bending over him. He heard a sweet, start 
 led voice, rilled with music, murmuring in exquisite 
 French, 
 
 " Mon Dieu! He is living, then! " 
 
 He knew no more. 
 
 no
 
 BOOK III 
 
 THE HONOUR OF DE VITRE 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE SAILOR AND THE MOB 
 
 LIEUTENANT DENIS DE VITRE had been in peril 
 of his life many times during his short but exciting 
 career, but he had never come so near death as with 
 in the past few months. Indeed, His Grim Majesty, 
 the King of Terrors, had stared the young officer 
 full in the face and his cold hand had been fairly 
 clasped around his throat. It would have gone hard 
 with him but for the timely interference of a friend. 
 
 De Vitre was a hardy, bold young man, who 
 loved fighting as he loved sunlight, on account, per 
 haps, of the Irish touch in his nature from a far-off 
 strain of the Emerald Isle on the distaff side. One 
 of the higher Canadian noblesse, whose family was of 
 first importance in New France, owning wide pos 
 sessions and high in favour in the governor's court, 
 he had received a commission in the navy of France. 
 While in command of the boats of a scouting expe 
 dition in the lower St. Lawrence he had been cap 
 tured by Admiral Durell's squadron. 
 
 When the fleet of Vice-Admiral Saunders en 
 tered the river and started upon that toilsome and 
 
 in
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 dangerous ascent to Quebec the vice-admiral had 
 required his captives, of whom de Vitre was chief, 
 to pilot the great ships up the uncertain river. The 
 young officer, for one, had peremptorily refused 
 to do this, and neither threat nor appeal had induced 
 him to recede from his position. 
 
 The process of intimidation had indeed been car 
 ried so far as to cause Monsieur de Vitre to be 
 mounted upon the rail of a ship with a rope around 
 his neck, the other end of which was rove through a 
 block at the top-sail yard-arm. Had it not been for 
 the friend mentioned he would have been hanged 
 for his contumacy, and to discourage or encourage 
 the other pilots, men of less rank and station, who 
 showed a disposition to emulate his refusal. 
 
 From this difficult and, for a man of birth and 
 station, unpleasant position the Frenchman had 
 been rescued by the intercessions of the young cap 
 tain of the ship, a brave man, who loved courage 
 and resolution even in his enemies. As his inter 
 cession was seconded by the influence of General 
 Wolfe, to whose request Admiral Saunders gra 
 ciously deferred, it was efficacious in releasing Mon 
 sieur de Vitre from his appalling and unpleasant 
 predicament. 
 
 Other men were found with less exalted views 
 of their duty to their country who could be per 
 suaded by the means which failed so signally in the 
 case of de Vitre, and the ships were accordingly 
 piloted safely up the river. Meanwhile, his quality 
 having been demonstrated by his heroism, de Vitre 
 was held a close prisoner in the fleet. He had re- 
 
 112
 
 The Sailor and the Mob 
 
 fused to give his parole, and accordingly had been 
 closely confined, and was carefully guarded. 
 
 A winning tongue, a little money, and specious 
 promises of ultimate reward had made a friend for 
 him among his guards, and the suborned soldier 
 had at last found means to supply him with a Brit 
 ish uniform. In the hurry and confusion of the de 
 barkation of the soldiery for the attempt on the 
 Plains of Abraham, de Vitre had succeeded in join 
 ing himself to one of the landing parties without 
 attracting attention. The captain of the Sutherland, 
 on which he had been held prisoner, was surprised 
 the next morning to find the sentry bound and 
 gagged by his own collusion, of course, though 
 that was unknown in de Vitre's room and his pris 
 oner gone. 
 
 However, there was so much business of mo 
 ment on hand the day of the battle that no search 
 was made for him; indeed, none could be made, and 
 the certain fall of Quebec, which everybody realized 
 must take place when the news of the victory 
 was brought to the fleet, rendered his pursuit 
 useless. It was too late for even a man of his 
 courage to effect anything of importance then. 
 His knowledge of British affairs would be of no 
 service now. 
 
 In the natural course of events, too, de Vitre 
 would fall into the hands of the English again in a 
 few days. Meanwhile, as he was a pleasant fellow, 
 agreeable and debonair, his captors were rather 
 glad that he had the privilege of a few hours of lib 
 erty, especially as it was known that the inspiration
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 of his escape was the most beautiful woman in New 
 France. 
 
 De Vitre had met with no opportunity of escap 
 ing from the English lines until the battle was 
 joined. He had been compelled by the exigencies 
 of the situation to point his gun at his own coun 
 trymen, and though he took care it was not loaded 
 with ball, the mere motion gave him exquisite an 
 guish. In the smoke and confusion of the battle 
 field, however, he at last found occasion to mingle 
 with the retreating French. 
 
 In the panic terror of their retreat no one in the 
 crowding, pushing mob paid any attention to him, 
 and he gained the city with the rest of the fugitives 
 through the St. Louis Gate. Forcing his way 
 through the multitude he ran rapidly down the 
 street toward the place where dwelt the object of his 
 adoration. He found her in the doorway of her 
 house, bending over the prostrate form of a small 
 man in the blue and white uniform of the Brit 
 ish navy. 
 
 " Mademoiselle de Rohan! " he cried in great 
 surprise, stopping short at the sight. " What is 
 the meaning of this? " 
 
 The young woman looked up as he called her 
 name, rose to her feet as she recognised him, and 
 with an expression of the most withering scorn and 
 contempt deliberately turned her back upon him. 
 For the moment the stranger was forgotten. De 
 Vitre gasped and turned pale with astonishment. 
 
 "Mademoiselle de Rohan!" he cried again, 
 " do you not know me? " 
 
 114
 
 The Sailor and the Mob 
 
 " I know no one," she answered, half-turning to 
 ward him with the contempt deepening upon her 
 beautiful features, " who, born in France, wears that 
 uniform, which even you disgrace! " 
 
 " Disgrace, mademoiselle! " he cried, straight 
 ening himself up, his face flushing. " What mean 
 you? Oh, this why I " 
 
 " By God! " exclaimed a coarse, rough voice at 
 his side, "it's de Vitre!" 
 
 The young Frenchman faced about and saw 
 himself confronted by a grenadier of the regiment 
 La Sarre, who had stopped and was looking menac 
 ingly at him. He was followed by two or three reg 
 ular soldiers from the various regiments and a sailor 
 from Vauquelin's squadron. 
 
 " De Vitre, the traitor! " cried another. 
 
 " He who piloted the English ships up the 
 river! " exclaimed the sailor. 
 
 " The man who betrayed New France! " shout 
 ed a third. 
 
 The fleeing soldiery stopped and with several 
 citizens gathered about the little group in the door 
 way. 
 
 " Well, we are beaten now," remarked the sol 
 dier who had first spoken, who held the rank of a 
 sergeant, " but I guess we can hold the town long 
 enough to hang you, monsieur, I saw you in the 
 English ranks when they charged upon us curse 
 them! And you brought up the ships 
 
 " It's a lie, a dastardly lie! " cried de Vitre des 
 perately. "I " 
 
 " What are you doing with that English uniform 
 
 "5
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 on? " asked another, amid murmurs of indignation 
 from the crowd, for the street was now blocked 
 with people. 
 
 De Vitre, seeing the hopelessness of his situation, 
 backed up against the wall and instinctively felt for 
 his sword. Unfortunately for him he was wearing 
 a private soldier's uniform, and he had thrown away 
 his gun in that mad rush for the St. Louis Gate. 
 He was alone, unarmed and helpless before the mob. 
 
 "It's a fearful mistake!" he shouted. "My 
 friends, I am innocent! I can explain! Hear me! " 
 
 His voice was drowned in yells and execrations. 
 The soldiers and people had been so harried and 
 wrought upon by the defeat of the morning that a 
 sinister desire for revenge on some one was added to 
 the fickle yet malevolent passions so easily awak 
 ened in the Gallic mob. They wanted a scapegoat, 
 and here was one to hand. 
 
 " Mademoiselle," cried the unhappy French 
 man, drawing himself up and turning to the girl, 
 who stood spellbound before the appalling display 
 of the fury and passion of the people, " I swear to 
 you upon my honour that I am innocent! Vive la 
 nouvclle France] Say that you believe me before I 
 am taken! On my soul I believe this rabble intends 
 to kill me!" 
 
 Anne de Rohan hesitated. Honesty rang in the 
 young man's voice, honour looked out of his eyes 
 and love too yet things were suspicious. 
 
 " Well, will you come with us peaceably, 
 
 or " interrupted the sergeant, with a grim and 
 
 menacing gesture. 
 
 116
 
 The Sailor and the Mob 
 
 " One moment, my friend," cried the young man 
 lightly, having recovered his coolness and having 
 discovered the folly of expostulation. 
 
 He looked appealingly at the young woman. 
 
 " I believe you," said Anne de Rohan, suddenly 
 extending her hand to him. " Messieurs," she 
 cried, turning to the crowd, " Monsieur de Vitre 
 gives me his word of honour that " 
 
 " Oh, bah! " exclaimed the sergeant, " the hon 
 our of a traitor to the woman he loves ! " 
 
 " Let us kill him where he stands! " shouted 
 one. 
 
 " To the lantern with him! " roared another. 
 
 " No, my brave friends," said the sergeant coolly, 
 " order, if you please. He goes to the governor. 
 Come, monsieur. Fall back, gentlemen, and give 
 way. A moi, mes camarades." 
 
 11 Mademoiselle," said de Vitre hurriedly, as the 
 soldiers surrounded him and prepared to force a 
 way through the crowd, " I can now face anything 
 with a light heart. You believe in me. Take care 
 of that gentleman yonder, he is a friend of mine." 
 
 As he spoke, the soldiers seized him by the arm 
 and hustled him down the street toward the Cha 
 teau St. Louis, the residence of the governor, where 
 de Ramesay sat in hurried consultation with his offi 
 cers over the defence of the stricken town. The 
 crowd, after a few curious glances, followed the sol 
 diers and left the prostrate Englishman alone on the 
 doorstep. 
 
 The young woman turned again to the man on 
 the step. He was wounded, perhaps dying. The 
 
 117
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 bullet which struck him in the back had passed 
 completely through his shoulder, and his shirt was 
 stained with blood. There was a deep cut through 
 the sleeve of his coat also, and his arm lay in a little 
 pool of the same deadly fluid. His face was covered 
 with blood from a slight wound on his forehead, and 
 earth-stained as well from the muddy unpaved street 
 where he had fallen. He was a hideous spectacle. 
 Yet, though a foeman, he was wounded and help 
 less. 
 
 She knelt beside him, and, seeing at a glance 
 that the wound in his face was superficial, with not 
 unskilful fingers she rapidly opened his waistcoat 
 and tore open his shirt. Yes, there was the danger 
 ous wound. Blood was still oozing from it. She 
 had assisted the good Sisters in nursing the sick 
 and wounded during the siege, and the gruesome 
 sight was not unfamiliar to her. The wound must 
 be attended to at once. Raising her voice, she called 
 through the little hallway: 
 
 " Josette! Jean-Renaud, hither! " 
 
 Immediately a buxom young woman made her 
 appearance at the door in obedience to her mis 
 tress's call. 
 
 " Water, quick, Josette, and get Jean-Renaud ! 
 Here is a gentleman wounded, a friend of Monsieur 
 de Vitre." 
 
 " Jean-Renaud is not in the house, mademoi 
 selle'. He went to the St. Louis Gate to 
 
 " I am here," exclaimed a deep, rough voice, as 
 a burly old man wearing the livery of the de Rohans 
 came around the corner. " We have lost the battle. 
 
 118
 
 The Sailor and the Mob 
 
 Monsieur de Montcalm is mortally wounded, as is 
 Monsieur de Senezergues, and Monsieur de St. 
 Ours is killed." 
 
 " Peace, Jean-Renaud! I will hear your news in 
 a moment. Meanwhile carry this gentleman to my 
 chamber." 
 
 " But, mademoiselle, that uniform he is an 
 Englishman! An enemy!" 
 
 " In the face of death, Jean-Renaud, all men are 
 our friends; besides, Monsieur de Vitre " 
 
 " Is he here? " queried the old servitor, " that 
 traitor!" 
 
 " He is no traitor! " answered the girl boldly. 
 
 " Who says so? " 
 
 " He himself. His word of honour " 
 
 " The honour of a " 
 
 " How long am I to stand here and bandy words 
 with you, Jean-Renaud? Are you my servant, or 
 no? Would you so answer Monsieur le Marquis? 
 No? Then do as I bid you! " 
 
 She rose and looked at him with all the imperi- 
 ousness of her thousand years of ancestry in the wild 
 wastes of Brittany in her glance. When his mis 
 tress spoke like that there was nothing to be done 
 but obey. The old marquis himself could not be 
 more peremptory. 
 
 Jean-Renaud stooped down and lifted up the 
 slight form of the stranger, who lay in his arms as 
 if he had been a boy. He carried him upstairs and 
 deposited him upon a great bed in a low-ceiled 
 chamber lighted by a dormer window. While his 
 mistress, with the assistance of Josette, busied her- 
 
 119
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 self below in preparing such homely medicaments 
 as their experience could devise, Jean-Renaud re 
 moved the clothes from Grafton and put him regu 
 larly in bed. Then he examined his wounds with 
 the skill of an old campaigner. 
 
 Presently mademoiselle, followed by the maid, 
 entered the room. With her own hands she assisted 
 in washing the wounds and putting on some tempo 
 rary bandages. As she did so she did not fail to 
 note around the neck of the young Englishman a 
 little chain of gold from which was suspended a 
 leather case, evidently containing a locket. 
 
 " Shall I take this off also? " asked Jean-Re 
 naud, lifting the chain, as they passed the bandages. 
 
 " No, leave it there. 'Tis probably the picture 
 of one he loves. Will he live, think you, Jean-Re 
 naud? " 
 
 " I know not, mademoiselle. 'Tis a rough 
 wound, and he has lost much blood." 
 
 " A pity. But let us hope," murmured the girl 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 The place where the bed stood was far from the 
 window and in a subdued light, so she had not yet 
 had a fair view of the face of the wounded man. 
 Indeed, they had been so busy that they did not have 
 time to wash his face, hence she had not recognised 
 him. 
 
 " It were best to go for the surgeon, mademoi 
 selle," remarked Josette, gazing at the Englishman 
 with sympathetic interest, as Jean-Renaud tied the 
 last bandage about the cut in the arm. 
 
 "A good suggestion. Go you, Jean-Renaud; 
 1 20
 
 The Sailor and the Mob 
 
 and Josette, lock the street-door and see that 
 things are looked after downstairs. 'Tis like to be 
 a day of trouble. The soldiers are filling the street, 
 and we had a sample of their temper but a moment 
 since. Beg Dr. Arnoux to come quickly, Jean-Re- 
 naud, and hasten yourself, for when you return you 
 must accompany me to the governor in behalf of 
 Monsieur de Vitre. Hand me that basin, Josette, 
 and the cloth. I will wash this blood and earth from 
 the face of the poor man."
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 GRAFTON COMES BACK TO THE ROSE 
 
 THE two servants, in obedience to her orders, 
 left her alone with the wounded man. He had not 
 recovered consciousness, and save for a few feeble 
 moans, while they were working over his more seri 
 ous wounds, he had given no evidence of life. She 
 had not given any thought to cleansing his face 
 until the bandaging and necessary work had been 
 done. But now she sat down beside him, and dip 
 ping the cloth in the water tenderly wiped the earth 
 stains from his cheek and the coagulated blood from 
 the slight wound in his forehead. 
 
 As his features were thus disclosed to her in the 
 dim light she suddenly stopped and bent over him 
 in great surprise. Her heart almost stopped beat 
 ing. Was it he? Could it be? She was not sure. 
 It was so dark in the alcove behind the draperies of 
 the bed, and the hangings were not drawn from be 
 fore the window. Setting the basin down, she ran 
 to the window and tore open the curtains. 
 
 The midday sunlight streamed into the chamber 
 and lighted the corner where the bed stood. She 
 turned and threw back the hangings with a nervous 
 hand. The light fell full upon his face. With a low 
 
 122
 
 Grafton comes back to the Rose 
 
 cry she recognised him. It was Grafton, Sir Philip, 
 her knight of old! Oh, thank God for it! Come 
 back to her after all these years yet in this way, in 
 such a plight! 
 
 She stood in silence after that first exclamation 
 and gazed upon him, her heart, her soul in her eyes. 
 At first she forgot the intervening years, she forgot 
 the uniform he wore, she forgot he was an enemy; 
 she remembered only that he had come back to her. 
 His memory had been in her heart since those child 
 ish days. She had thought of him, dreamed of him, 
 longed for him, ay! if the truth were admitted 
 she had loved him. Love! But could she love the 
 enemy of France! Could a de Rohan mate with 
 one of the hated English! She must put him out 
 of her heart. Could she 
 
 Merciful heavens, what idle thoughts were these! 
 He was dying before her eyes. She leaned over him 
 and called him, softly, tenderly, passionately. He did 
 not stir, and he had told her in olden times that she 
 might summon him from his grave and he would 
 come at the sound of her voice. She spoke to him 
 again and again, but he did not heed. 
 
 There was a prie-dieu near the head of the 
 bed. She turned and sank to her knees before it, 
 praying earnestly for him \vith such fervour and in 
 tensity as did not usually find place in her maidenly 
 petitions. Then she came back to the bedside and 
 stood looking at him, despair in her heart lest he 
 should die, slip away, and make no sign. But there 
 was nothing she could do, so she schooled herself to 
 wait, and while she waited she studied him. 
 
 123
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 How changed he was! Older, and yet the same. 
 There were lines in his brow which were not there 
 when she had known him before. She had seen 
 him with a child's eyes it was a woman now who 
 looked upon him. Grafton was a very handsome 
 man, not with the beauty of effeminacy, but in a bold, 
 manly, striking way, so she had always thought, and 
 she thought it the more strongly now. She marked 
 how his blond hair curled gracefully about his brow, 
 and through his half-opened lids she saw again the 
 well-remembered eyes of gray. How full of light 
 and sunshine they had been! Her gaze compre 
 hended his features so strongly moulded and the 
 world of decision in the firm mouth and the well- 
 turned chin. She remembered it so well. His face, 
 of course, was deadly pale at this moment, but when 
 it was flushed with health and energy and the eyes 
 were alight with light and hope, as she recalled him, 
 he was a man to win any woman's heart. Would she 
 ever see the hue of health and strength there again? 
 
 He was a small man, much under the middle 
 stature. As she looked at him she felt sure that 
 side by side, now that she had grown, he would 
 scarcely overtower her by an inch, but there was 
 nothing weak or insignificant about his figure. She 
 remembered how lightly he had lifted her in the air 
 the first day they met, and how indignant she had 
 been. Could he do it now? And would she care? 
 
 She recalled with a delicious thrill of long dor 
 mant passion how he had held her in his arms and 
 carried her to her room that never-to-be-forgotten 
 night in the tower when he had kissed her the first 
 
 124
 
 Grafton comes back to the Rose 
 
 and only time. The blood flamed in her face at that 
 recollection. She had thought of it often before, 
 but with him lying there on the bed it seemed dif 
 ferent. Would that surgeon never come? She 
 could see him faintly breathing yet. He was so 
 strong, there was certainly a chance for him. She 
 could see the muscles of his neck and shoulder, and 
 she had marked the splendid development of his 
 arm as she had bandaged it a moment since. Yes, 
 there was hope if only Dr. Arnoux would come. 
 
 His face, in spite of his pallor, was bronzed by 
 the wind and weather, yet the white line about his 
 forehead where it was habitually covered with his 
 hat showed what his original complexion had been. 
 He still was a sailor, evidently. She came from a 
 race of sailors, and her heart warmed toward those 
 who go down to the sea in ships for her father's 
 sake, or was it for 
 
 Suddenly her thoughts took another turn. The 
 shirt in which Jean-Renaud had dressed Grafton 
 was left slightly open at the neck on account of the 
 bandage. The chain and the locket had been 
 pushed aside and the locket lay on the pillow by the 
 side of his face nearest her. Whose face was in the 
 locket? her heart queried anxiously. Men did not 
 usually wear lockets unless they loved. Ah! She 
 snatched it up eagerly. In any event, she would not 
 have been a woman if she had not earnestly desired 
 to look in it, but now the possibilities consumed 
 her. 
 
 " I wonder who it may be? " she murmured to 
 herself. " Tis a pretty case." She peered impa- 
 
 125
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 tiently, anxiously, jealously at it, turning it over and 
 over in her hand. It fascinated her; she would have 
 given worlds to look, and yet she could not bring 
 herself to open it. 
 
 " Well, 'tis none of my affair, at any rate," she 
 said at last, dropping it upon the pillow, but with 
 great reluctance, " 'tis nothing to me, and he is 
 nothing. He can never be anything but a memory 
 of my childhood. Pity," she went on, relentlessly 
 striving to deceive her heart by simulating an indif 
 ference foreign to her feelings, " that so gallant a 
 man should be laid low by such a mischance. Jean- 
 Renaud says the shot struck him in the back in 
 the back I wonder but no, I know he is brave, 
 and, besides, he is a friend of de Vitre's, and de Vitre 
 is no coward, nor would he choose his friends from 
 such." She broke away again in thought. " O 
 God, how quiet he lies! Will he ever awaken from 
 that deadly stupor, I wonder? I would the doctor 
 were here! Poor Sir Philip, I I I don't want 
 you to die! " 
 
 She laid her hand softly on his brow and he 
 quivered under her touch. To her at that moment, 
 she told herself, he was only the friend of her girl 
 hood, her knight of the old tower, a comrade, 
 wounded, helpless, dependent, suffering. It was a 
 lie, she knew and the Rohans never lied. What 
 was the use of deceiving her; no matter what was 
 in the locket, no matter whether he had forgotten 
 her or no, whether he were false or true, she loved 
 him! 
 
 " I love you! I love you! " she murmured. 
 126
 
 Grafton comes back to the Rose 
 
 It was the truth at last. The gates were 
 open and the floods were out. She took his head 
 in her hands and bent low over him. Why 
 keep up the deception any longer? And in any 
 case he would not see or hear, he would never 
 know. 
 
 " I love you! I love you! I love you! " she 
 said again and again. 
 
 He was dying, perhaps. Well, better so. He 
 could never be anything to her; those two had noth 
 ing in common but the memory of a past, and per 
 haps he had not even that that locket but at least 
 she could love him dead or alive forever. She 
 bent nearer to him. Her hair how he had praised 
 it! brushed his cheek; her eyes how he had ad 
 mired them! gazed into his own, half-shut and 
 dull. 
 
 She drew still nearer. With a growing courage 
 she kissed him. She laid her lips softly upon his 
 forehead, then shrank back affrighted at what she 
 had done. A burning flush suffused her cheek 
 again. Aghast she withdrew a little from him and 
 forced herself to sit down. So she watched him with 
 eyes brimming, bosom heaving, heart beating, and 
 with words of prayer and caress mingling in her 
 soul. 
 
 Presently he stirred slightly and opened his eyes, 
 at first slowly, and then wider while he stared about 
 him in bewilderment. As she saw this evidence of 
 returning life her heart bounded with hope, but she 
 shrank back farther in the shadow. He must not 
 see her. He must not know. He could not she 
 
 127
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 was so changed, and he would never find out that 
 they had met. He could go back to the lady of 
 the locket. 
 
 In a little while he lifted his unwounded arm and 
 felt eagerly for the little case hanging from the 
 chain about his neck. His expression of anxiety 
 gave place to one of relief as he found it. Ah, she 
 was right, then! How she hated that pictured 
 woman, whoever she might be! He had forgotten 
 her. He should never know. She steeled her heart 
 against him, closed her lips, turned away her head, 
 and made no sound. 
 
 As his eyes roamed about the room with an ex 
 pression of vague wonder in them, he did not at 
 first see her. When he did he recalled her face, but 
 only as it had bent over him in that momentary re 
 turn to consciousness on the doorstep, was it mo 
 ments, or hours, or weeks, ago? He stared at her 
 in silence for a moment and then strove to rise. He 
 fell back, however, with the pain from the effort. 
 A groan burst from his lips. 
 
 " You are not to rise," she said quickly, step 
 ping over to the bed and laying her hand upon him 
 how her heart responded to this living touch 
 " you are to lie perfectly quiet." 
 
 She strove vainly to compose her voice in spite 
 of her agitation. She clinched her hand resolutely, 
 determined not to betray herself. She kept her head 
 slightly turned away. If he looked at her as of old, 
 if he pleaded with her, she felt that she could not 
 withstand him. 
 
 " Yes," she added, in response to the look of in- 
 128
 
 Grafton comes back to the Rose 
 
 quiry in his face, " you are in Quebec. A soldier 
 brought you. You fell at my door." 
 
 " The battle? " he whispered. 
 
 " Fortune was with you this time, monsieur," 
 she answered sadly, " and my countrymen were de 
 feated." 
 
 " Thank you, mademoiselle," replied Grafton, 
 " but I must go." 
 
 " But you are a prisoner. We still hold the 
 city." 
 
 " But the trouble to you," murmured Grafton, 
 " this trespass on your hospitality " 
 
 " You are a friend of Monsieur de Vitre." 
 
 " De Vitre! " he exclaimed. " Do you know 
 him? " 
 
 " Yes, he is a prisoner in the Chateau St. Louis 
 now." 
 
 " A prisoner? " he asked in weak astonishment. 
 " Why, I left him " 
 
 " But you must not talk any more," she said 
 again. " Ah, here is the doctor! " she cried, as she 
 heard steps on the stairs, and the old surgeon, fol 
 lowed by Jean-Renaud and Josette, entered the 
 room. The two servants recognised Grafton at 
 once, but Anne laid a warning finger on her lips 
 and they kept silence.' 
 
 " What what mademoiselle ! Have you 
 turned your house into a hospital? " cried the doc 
 tor. " Where is the patient? " 
 
 He bustled over to the side of the bed and looked 
 keenly at the young man before him. 
 
 "Where is the wound, Sir Englishman? Ah, 
 129
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 in the shoulder! " His deft hands were busy with 
 the bandages meanwhile. " And monsieur has been 
 shot in the back " 
 
 " I was not running away, sir, I would have you 
 know! " protested Grafton, with unusual vigour. 
 
 "Why, no, of course not!" said the doctor 
 soothingly. 
 
 " I was captured by your cavalry, monsieur, and 
 probably shot by a stray bullet from our own line." 
 
 " Quite so, and the bullet has made a nice hole 
 clean through your shoulder. If you lie quiet for a 
 few days, a week or so, I think all will be well with 
 you. Now the cut in the arm. Ah, 'tis not serious 
 either! " 
 
 The doctor skilfully rebandaged the wounds 
 after applying a healing dressing, and then compli 
 mented mademoiselle for the skill with which she 
 had tied the original bandages. Leaving some med 
 icine to keep down any inflammation or fever, and 
 giving some directions as to the diet of the invalid 
 directions which were wonderfully simplified by a 
 great scarcity of food, for the town was practically 
 in a state of starvation the doctor prepared to 
 leave. 
 
 " No, no, mademoiselle," he said, as she 
 pressed him to remain, " I have no time. The city 
 is full of wounded and dying. Every one is pressed 
 into service. Monsieur de Montcalm is shot 
 through the breast. He can scarcely survive the 
 day. When I told him, in answer to his inquiry, 
 that he could not live, he exclaimed, ' So much the 
 better, my dear Arnoux, I shall not live to see the 
 
 130
 
 Grafton comes back to the Rose 
 
 surrender of Quebec! ' Helas, so brave a soldier, 
 and so young! He will never go back to Candiac, 
 to the wife and children in his beloved France! " 
 
 " My general," whispered Grafton, " he, too, 
 is killed." 
 
 " He was a brave man," returned the surgeon 
 courteously. " Well, monsieur, we may trust they 
 are together there" he threw up his head "where 
 the brave are friends and war and wounds are ban 
 ished." 
 
 " Can I not be taken away, monsieur? " 
 
 " No, no! On no account! You must lie quite 
 still! I will look in on him to-morrow, mademoi 
 selle," said the doctor, turning to leave the room. 
 " Adieu." 
 
 " Are you dissatisfied with your quarters, mon 
 sieur? but you have not told me your name," 
 asked Anne. 
 
 " I am Philip Grafton, captain in his Britannic 
 Majesty's navy; and you are " 
 
 " I am Alixe de Couedic, monsieur, at your 
 service." 
 
 She gave him a secondary title in her family, and 
 one of her many baptismal names which he had 
 never heard. 
 
 "Ah, you remind me! but no Mademoiselle 
 de Couedic? Yet, 'tis a Breton name. Know you 
 the family of de Rohan, mademoiselle? " 
 
 " They come from Brest and Finisterre, mon 
 sieur. We are from Morbihan." 
 
 There was a little silence in the room, and both 
 were thinking of the old chateau and that halcyon
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 night. He looked again at her. Strange! Yet it 
 could not be! De Couedic? He did not know the 
 name, and yet 
 
 " You were speaking of Monsieur de Vitre a 
 moment since, mademoiselle," finally said Grafton. 
 
 She noticed his voice was visibly stronger under 
 the doctor's strengthening cordial, and that he 
 looked better already. 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur Grafton, he was at my door 
 when you fell, dressed in the uniform of your coun 
 try. He was recognised. 'Tis said that he piloted 
 the English ships up the river, betraying his coun 
 try. The mob wanted to hang him." 
 
 "Good heavens!" cried Grafton. "'Tis not 
 possible! Here is a deadly mistake! Where did you 
 say he was taken? " 
 
 " To the Chateau St. Louis, monsieur." 
 
 " I must go to him at once, mademoiselle! " he 
 cried and in spite of the pain he tried to rise. " He 
 is innocent! He refused to pilot the ships! They 
 had a rope about his neck because he would not 
 betray his country! " 
 
 " Can this be true, monsieur? " 
 
 "True!" he replied. "I was there I saw it 
 all!" 
 
 " But that English uniform? " 
 
 " He evidently tried to escape in it, and succeed 
 ed. He is innocent of everything he has been charged 
 with, and, so far from being a traitor, he is a hero! 
 He was in love with some one in Quebec. He must 
 
 have broken away from the ship to come to 
 
 Ah, he was at your door! You are the lady, then! 
 
 132
 
 Grafton comes back to the Rose 
 
 What a pity! No, do not detain me! Retire, I beg 
 of you, that I may rise and go to him! In the tem 
 per in which they now are they will hang him out 
 right! " 
 
 " No," answered the girl, rising herself and gen 
 tly forcing him back, " you must not go! You can 
 not! As you say, I am the woman he loves, mon 
 sieur, and I will go! " 
 
 She forced herself to make the avowal. Every 
 barrier she could imagine she would raise between 
 herself and this young Englishman, now and of 
 old the master of her heart. He loved some one 
 else and he was an enemy. She hated herself for 
 loving him, but that she could not help. At least 
 she could conceal it and separate herself from 
 him. 
 
 " Tell them, on the honour of an English sailor, 
 that he is innocent! Let the governor come or send 
 an officer to me. I will convince him! Make haste, 
 mademoiselle! " he replied. 
 
 " I fly, monsieur." 
 
 " One moment! " he cried impetuously, catching 
 her dress as she turned away. He must know. 
 This woman's looks tortured him; why, he knew 
 not. " Tell me, Mademoiselle de Couedic, do you 
 love him as well? " 
 
 " Monsieur forgets himself! " she cried imperi 
 ously, yet her heart stood still. Was he about to 
 recognise her? Was it joy, or fear, that filled her 
 soul? She continued hurriedly, her voice soften 
 ing in spite of herself: " Release my dress, sir! But 
 there, I forgive you. You are wounded, ill. I 
 
 133
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 thank you for saving my friend. Au revoir. I go 
 to save him, also." 
 
 She left him a prey to a strange, jealous agony. 
 Who was she? Why did she bring to mind the fig 
 ure of the little girl in the white robe, the little girl 
 with the great eyes, in the dark tower? 
 
 134
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 FIGHT, RETREAT, OR SURRENDER 
 
 THE Chevalier de Ramesay, the Governor of 
 Quebec, sat alone in his cabinet in the Chateau 
 St. Louis, gazing out across the St. Charles River at 
 the exquisite panorama spread before him. The sky 
 had cleared and the sun was shining brilliantly. 
 Such a picture was opened before his vision as may 
 scarcely be seen elsewhere in the world. 
 
 Beyond the gilded cross of the Jesuit seminary, 
 which bisected the' heavens, the horizon was softly 
 blue with the swelling curves of the distant Lau T 
 rentian mountains. The bold headland of Cap- 
 Tourmente, rising from the water's edge, marked 
 the end of the range on the river side. Below him 
 spread the ancient lower town, now wrecked and 
 ruined from the constant bombardment of the Eng 
 lish. Off to the left across the smooth surface of the 
 St. Charles River rose the gentle hills of the Beau- 
 port shore, covered with farms, with their stone 
 houses embowered in trees, with here and there a 
 manor. The yellow grain in the fields was ready for 
 the harvesters. 
 
 The river bank was lined with the tents, many of 
 them already deserted, of the guarding army. The 
 
 135
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 foreground to the right was broken by the beauti 
 fully wooded slopes of the Isle of Orleans, and far 
 off on the other shore of the mighty St. Lawrence 
 rose the bold promontory of Point Levis. In the 
 basin beneath him, extending from the Isle of Or 
 leans to the point, the huge leviathans of England, 
 the great ships of the line, with their bristling rows 
 of cannon, swung at their anchors to the tide. At 
 any moment they might recommence that horrible 
 hail of fire and destruction, which for so many days 
 had been poured upon the devoted town of which 
 he was governor. 
 
 As he watched them idly, a puff of smoke rose 
 from the battery on Point Levis, and presently the 
 faint roar of the discharge was followed by the crash 
 of another shot in the almost deserted lower town. 
 Some English gunners were trying their pieces now 
 and then, but for the most part the batteries were 
 silent that morning after the infernal uproar of the 
 night. It was noon, and as there was nothing being 
 done anywhere, apparently, the calm and peace were 
 practically unbroken. 
 
 It was a scene to make a painter rave and a poet 
 dream, but it had no interest then for de Ramesay. 
 He sat at a large table, leaning his head upon one 
 hand and with the other idly tapping a plan of the 
 city spread before him. The room was empty, but 
 there was enough perturbation in de Ramesay's 
 mind to have filled a castle. Presently a young offi 
 cer entered and saluted. 
 
 " What says the marquis? " asked the chevalier, 
 looking up. 
 
 136
 
 Fight, Retreat, or Surrender 
 
 " He said, sir," replied the young man hesitat 
 ing, " that you could do as you pleased. He would 
 give no further orders. He added that he had busi 
 ness of greater moment I quote his very words, 
 Monsieur le Gouverneur, craving your pardon 
 ' than this ruined garrison and this wretched 
 country.' ' 
 
 " Mon Dieu! What a change in a few hours! 
 Yesterday one almost imagined another week would 
 see the siege raised, and to-day we are defeated, and 
 to-morrow comes the end. How did the marquis 
 seem, Captain Rouvigny? " 
 
 " In desperate case, sir. His affairs go badly." 
 
 " Like our own," murmured the chevalier, as the 
 captain continued: 
 
 " Dr. Arnoux says he can not live beyond the 
 morrow. Bishop Pontbriand was already with 
 him." 
 
 There was a little pause in the room. The cheva 
 lier still played absently with the map. 
 
 "Poor man!" he said at last, "perhaps, after 
 all, 'tis better so. Death is the last refuge, and 
 the best, for the beaten. Monsieur de Vau- 
 dreuil," he continued interrogatively, " what of 
 him? " 
 
 " Well, general, while I waited on Monsieur de 
 Montcalm, Captain Johnstone came to him from the 
 governor also asking what should be done." 
 
 " What reply gave the marquis? " 
 
 " Four words, sir." 
 
 " And they were " 
 
 " Fight, retreat, or surrender."
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 " Not much comfort there," responded the 
 chevalier, smiling ruefully, " we at least can not de 
 sert our post, whatever de Vaudreuil may do; and 
 i as for fighting, without his army we can not hold 
 the place at all, especially with the English in 
 trenched on the citadel side. Have they brought 
 up any batteries yet? " 
 
 " An officer on the walls told me that they were 
 landing guns from the ships, sir." 
 
 " And our troops? " 
 
 " Dreadfully disorganized and disheartened, sir." 
 
 " And the militia? " 
 
 " A mere mob," answered the captain, shrug 
 ging his shoulders in disgust. 
 
 " What does de Vaudreuil intend to do, I won 
 der? " murmured the chevalier at last, turning once 
 more to the window overlooking Beauport. 
 
 " Good heavens! " he cried, as his gaze fell on 
 the distant camps at Beauport. " Look yonder! 
 What make you of that, captain? " 
 
 "They are abandoning the intrenchments! 
 'Tis a retreat, sir! " cried the officer, after a quick 
 scanning of the prospects before them. 
 
 " The cowards! We are to be left alone, then! " 
 exclaimed the governor wrathfully. 
 
 " An officer from Monsieur de Vaudreuil," said 
 an orderly, at that moment entering the room. 
 
 " Admit him," said de Ramesay. " Ah, Mon 
 sieur de Contrecceur! " he remarked, as a young 
 man entered, bowed, and handed him a sealed pa 
 per. " Monsieur de Vaudreuil retreats, then? " 
 
 "Alas! yes, monsieur," returned the officer. 
 138
 
 Fight, Retreat, or Surrender 
 
 " Would to God that Monsieur de Levis were 
 here! What news or orders for me, sir? " 
 
 " 'Tis in the letter, sir." 
 
 The commandant broke open the packet. 
 
 " 'Tis a narrower choice," he said, smiling bit 
 terly, as he threw the paper on the table after he had 
 mastered the contents, " than that offered us by 
 Monsieur de Montcalm. He eliminates retreat 
 from his possibilities. Well, monsieur, tell Mon 
 sieur de Vaudreuil that we will hold the town so 
 long as we can. And this for your private ear: at 
 all hazard, get news of our plight to de Levis! 
 Tell him that Montcalm is dying, he can not live 
 the night, and the command falls to him, and for 
 God's sake to send succour to us! We are starving; 
 there are no provisions not enough for two days 
 in the town! The temper ,of the colonial militia is 
 most uncertain, and the regulars are demoralized 
 and smarting from the defeat of the morning. We 
 have lost heavily indeed. The walls on the land side 
 are hardly capable of defence. Good-day, sir, and 
 God speed! Now,Rouvigny,we still have something 
 to do. Let de Vitre, who was taken a few moments 
 since, be brought into the audience chamber. Sum 
 mon the officers of my staff to attend me there. We 
 have at least time to give short shrift to a traitor be 
 fore the English are upon us." 
 
 139
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 GRAFTON TO THE RESCUE 
 
 ATTENDED by his captors, Denis de Vitre, in the 
 hateful uniform of the English army, stood bound 
 and facing the governor and his staff in the great 
 hall of the castle. The sunlight sparkled in through 
 the long, narrow lancet windows with their leaded, 
 diamond-shaped panes, and made strange traceries 
 upon the polished oaken floor. Pictures of the for 
 mer governors of New France looked down upon 
 the little scene from the walls. There was the daunt 
 less Champlain, the veteran La Barre, the courtly 
 du Quesne, and, conspicuous among the rest, the 
 grim, eagle-like figure of the greatest of all old 
 Frontenac. The history of the province was some 
 how summed up in that old vaulted chamber, and 
 de Vitre felt as if he were on trial before the hero 
 ism of the past as well as the disorganization of 
 the present. 
 
 " Monsieur de Vitre, you are accused of having 
 betrayed your country by piloting the English ships 
 up the river," began the governor. 
 
 " And who is my accuser, Monsieur de Rame- 
 say? " answered de Vitre boldly. 
 
 " Common report." 
 
 140
 
 Grafton to the Rescue 
 
 " And does common report, sir, outweigh the 
 word of honour of an officer and a gentleman? " 
 
 " Do you deny the charge, monsieur? " 
 
 " Sir, upon my word of honour, I declare it to be 
 false in every particular! " 
 
 " But, sir, you were seen, recognised by officers 
 stationed on Cap-Tourmente, on the forward part of 
 the first English ship to pass the promontory. 
 There was a group of English officers around you. 
 You seemed to be pointing is it not so, Major 
 St. Luc? " 
 
 " It is indeed true, sir. I saw Monsieur de Vitre 
 myself," answered the officer promptly. 
 
 " If Monsieur St. Luc had seen me one half 
 hour sooner he would have noticed me standing 
 on the rail of the ship with a rope around my neck, 
 about to be hanged as a common felon for refusing 
 to show the way to the English." 
 
 " Can this be true, sir? " asked the governor in 
 surprise. 
 
 " On my faith it is. I give you my word, sir." 
 
 " We don't accept the word of a man accused of 
 treachery, sir. Although I have no doubt you were 
 on the rail, as you say, yet I have also no doubt but 
 that the presence of the rope proved efficacious." 
 
 " Mon Dieu, what an infamous charge! " cried 
 de Vitre, white with rage and passion at this insult, 
 striving to break away from his guards. 
 
 The governor watched him coolly until he 
 ceased to struggle; then, nonchalantly taking a 
 pinch of snuff: 
 
 " Be calm, monsieur," he added. " I might have 
 141
 
 The (Juiberon Touch 
 
 taken your word, but there is another circumstance 
 which must be explained, and which makes it diffi 
 cult to credit your story. The dress you wear it is 
 an English coat." 
 
 " May it please Monsieur le Gouverneur," spoke 
 up the sergeant, " I saw him in the front rank of the 
 English as they charged us. He carried a musket 
 in his hand." 
 
 " That is true," answered de Vitre, " I was 
 there." 
 
 " Did you discharge the musket? " 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur le Chevalier that is, I had 
 done so." 
 
 " At the troops of France? " 
 
 " Yes, but " 
 
 A roar of rage swept through the hall as the 
 men heard this damning admission. 
 
 " Why hear any more, Monsieur le Chevalier? " 
 burst out Captain Rouvigny, voicing the thought of 
 the others. " If he be not a self-convicted traitor, 
 let him be shot as a deserter." 
 
 "Messieurs, you must hear me! You shall!" 
 exclaimed de Vitre. " I have been a prisoner in the 
 English fleet. Through the connivance of a soldier 
 in their marine I procured this uniform. I escaped 
 from the ship last night. I hoped to reach the town 
 and warn you and Monsieur de Montcalm of the 
 expected attack on the town before morning, but I 
 found it impossible to get away. I was compelled 
 to stay in the ranks, and with difficulty escaped de 
 tection. I posed as a renegade or I would have 
 been killed out of hand. My gun was not loaded 
 
 142
 
 Grafton to the Rescue 
 
 with ball. I looked carefully to that, gentlemen. 
 I swear to you I threw it away at the first moment 
 and ran to join my friends. As there is a God in 
 heaven, Monsieur le Chevalier, I speak the truth! 
 I beg you to hold me until you can communicate 
 with the English and verify my statement." 
 
 " We can not hold the town a week, Monsieur de 
 Vitre," returned the governor quickly. " And to 
 defer your punishment until the English take us 
 would mean to let you escape scot-free. Frankly, I 
 do not believe your story. What say you, gentle 
 men? " 
 
 " No, no, he is a traitor! Away with him! " cried 
 one and another. 
 
 " Gentlemen, if I ever escape from this predica 
 ment," answered de Vitre boldly, " rest assured that 
 you shall answer to me for your words and actions! " 
 
 " This is idle talk, monsieur," said the governor 
 severely; "as the commandant of the garrison I 
 shall order you to be shot at once, upon your own 
 admissions, which you have failed to explain to our 
 satisfaction, if there is no one here who will protest, 
 or say a word in your defence." 
 
 " I will do that, Monsieur le Chevalier! " a clear 
 voice cried out from the other end of the hall, as 
 Anne de Rohan, followed by Josette, entered the 
 door and advanced before the chevalier. 
 
 " Mademoiselle de Rohan! " exclaimed the gov 
 ernor in great surprise, rising to his feet the while, 
 and bowing profoundly before her, a movement 
 which, of course, was emulated by all the officers. 
 " Here is no place for ladies."
 
 The (Juiberon Touch 
 
 " I am a witness in the case, Monsieur de Rame- 
 say. Am I in time to save the life and honour of 
 a brave man? " 
 
 " Time serves you, mademoiselle, but otherwise 
 your effort is impossible. Monsieur de Vitre was 
 seen this morning in the English ranks in their uni 
 form indeed he has it on now. He bore arms 
 against us in the field. He admits it. He is believed 
 to have acted as pilot for the English ships." 
 
 " Tis false, sir! " interrupted the girl. 
 
 "Thank God for that word, mademoiselle!" 
 cried de Vitre. " If you believe in me I can face the 
 rest of the world undaunted." 
 
 " Silence, Monsieur de Vitre! Why say you 
 this, mademoiselle? " asked the governor. 
 
 " Because there is an English officer wounded 
 and a prisoner in my house, who has learned by 
 chance of Monsieur de Vitre's predicament and who 
 vows that he is innocent; that he did not pilot the 
 ships; that he refused to do so even at the peril of his 
 life, and that he had been held a close prisoner on 
 the English ship's since his capture." 
 
 " Mademoiselle," the governor questioned, 
 " how comes there to be an English prisoner in 
 your house? " 
 
 " One of your horsemen cut him down on the 
 field, monsieur, picked him up on his horse and 
 carried him into the street, and dropped him before 
 my door, thinking him dead. Monsieur de Vitre, 
 who was captured there by these soldiers, saw him 
 as he was being taken away and told me to take care 
 of him as he was his friend." 
 
 144
 
 Grafton to the Rescue 
 
 "Friend to an Englishman!" shouted one of 
 the impetuous officers. " Another confirmation! " 
 
 " Silence! " cried the governor. " Proceed, 
 mademoiselle." 
 
 " Dr. Arnoux dressed the young Englishman's 
 wounds. He is a captain in the English navy. 
 When he recovered consciousness I mentioned 
 Monsieur de Vitre's predicament, and he insisted 
 that I must come to tell you this story, and if you 
 doubted it I was to ask you to send an officer to 
 question him." 
 
 " Why came he not himself, then? " 
 
 " He is too severely wounded, sir, and the doctor 
 forbade him to move." 
 
 " Be seated, mademoiselle. Let us withdraw, 
 gentlemen, and consider this communication for a 
 moment," said the governor, after reflecting deeply 
 for a short time. 
 
 The Chevalier de Ramesay and his officers 
 stepped to the other end of the apartment and in 
 tently consulted together, leaving Anne standing 
 near de Vitre and his guards. 
 
 " O mademoiselle," cried de Vitre to her, ad 
 dressing her despite the presence of the soldiers, 
 " this is a public place in which to address you, but 
 I stand in the shadow of death and I must needs take 
 any opportunity which fate provides me. You have 
 long known of my devotion to you. I have not 
 disguised it nor do I wish to make further protesta 
 tions to you. I only want to thank you, as a man 
 dying, for the brave stand you have taken in attempt 
 ing to save not only my life, but what is dearer to 
 
 145
 
 The <J)uiberon Touch 
 
 me my honour. Thank Captain Grafton, too, for 
 his good words, though I feel they will be useless. 
 The evidence against me is strong. This cursed uni 
 form is the last straw. Rankling under the defeat of 
 the morning, and with the certainty of surrender 
 before them, they are too bitter to weigh well what 
 they are doing. They want a scapegoat, and here is 
 one ready to hand. Mademoiselle, one last favour. 
 It means but little perhaps to you but much to me. 
 I can not go to you. Will you not reach hither your 
 hand? " 
 
 "They must not kill you, Monsieur de Vitre! 
 'Tis most unjust!" cried the girl piteously, step 
 ping over to him. " As for my hand " She 
 stretched it out, and, though he was bound and 
 tied, nothing could have exceeded the courtly 
 grace with which he bent over it and pressed a 
 long kiss upon it. She held it tightly against his 
 lips. 
 
 " There is my hand, monsieur! " she exclaimed, 
 as the soldiers withdrew a little, out of consideration 
 for her evident grief. " I would that my heart went 
 with it." 
 
 " Monsieur de Vitre, mademoiselle," said the 
 governor, returning to his seat, " we have carefully 
 considered the testimony of Mademoiselle de Rohan 
 and are of the opinion that it is not sufficiently im 
 portant to cause us to delay the execution. I fear 
 that a few days may see the English in posses 
 sion of the town, and that, of course, means that 
 you, sir, would escape all punishment. As for the 
 testimony of the English officer, he is in honour 
 
 146
 
 Grafton to the Rescue 
 
 bound to extricate his ally from his predicament, and 
 we question " 
 
 " Who questions the word of Captain Philip 
 Grafton? " cried a stern voice, as a strangely ill- 
 assorted pair entered the hall. One of the two was 
 a small slender man, only partially clothed, whose 
 face was ghastly pale and who held his left hand 
 pressed against his right shoulder. He would have 
 fallen to the floor but that he was supported by the 
 encircling arm of a huge old man in the livery of 
 the Rohans. The two were Philip and Jean-Re- 
 naud. 
 
 " Graiton! " cried de Vitre. " Thank God, you 
 have come! " 
 
 " Jean-Renaud," exclaimed Anne, " how dared 
 you to bring this gentleman here! Against the 
 doctor's orders and mine! His life " 
 
 " Peace, mademoiselle! " interrupted Grafton. 
 " I came here because I feared what has happened, 
 that they would not accept your testimony. Your 
 servant but obeyed my orders, he had no choice! " 
 
 " But your life, monsieur! " said Anne. 
 
 " I peril it gladly to save the honour of a brave 
 gentleman, though an enemy. Monsieur le Gou- 
 verneur, you are about to execute this gentleman? " 
 
 There was a dead silence in the room. 
 
 " It is true," answered Mademoiselle de Rohan. 
 
 " It must not go on! " cried Grafton. " I swear 
 to you on my honour as an English gentleman that 
 Monsieur de Vitre is innocent! He is no traitor; 
 on the contrary, he deserves your highest commen 
 dation. He refused to pilot the ships in, even
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 though, by the orders of the admiral, he was placed 
 on the rail of the ship with a rope flung around his 
 neck, and men awaited the signal to hang him." 
 
 Murmurs rose from the officers in the hall. 
 
 " Why was he not hanged, then, Sir English 
 man? " asked the governor. 
 
 " Because an English officer interfered, one who 
 hated to see a brave man sacrificed, and through his 
 influence with the general, who was his friend, and 
 the admiral, who is his captain, he saved Monsieur 
 de Vitre's life." 
 
 " Do you know this to be a fact, monsieur? " 
 
 " I do, monsieur." 
 
 " Who was the officer that saved his life? " 
 
 It T 
 
 The truth in the answer was patent in every line 
 of the blood-stained figure. There was a burst of 
 applause from the officers in the room as his words 
 carried conviction to their hearts. 
 
 " Who piloted the ships, then? " 
 
 " Some fishermen, and some of us came up the 
 river without a pilot." 
 
 " But this uniform? " 
 
 " I have no doubt that Monsieur de Vitre can 
 explain that. I know that last night he was held 
 a close prisoner on the Sutherland." 
 
 " Monsieur, forgive the question. I wish to be 
 quite certain. You are not saying this to save an 
 ally? " 
 
 " Sir, I have given you my word of honour, the 
 word of an officer of the King. As God is my judge, 
 sir, I have told the truth ! Hold Monsieur de Vitre 
 
 148
 
 Grafton to the Rescue 
 
 until you can communicate with Admiral Saunders 
 or General Townshend. Send out a special flag 
 now, and if the facts be not as I have stated I will 
 answer for them with my own life. You hold me 
 prisoner, sir. I am alone in your power. I would 
 stake anything upon de Vitre's honour. Indeed " 
 he turned pale and caught at his breast again where 
 the red stains showed under his hand " I believe 
 that I have staked my life for " 
 
 He stopped, his glance wavered toward Anne. 
 
 " For you your lover mademoiselle! " 
 
 He swayed back and forth and fell heavily to the 
 floor at her feet. 
 
 " Release Monsieur de Vitre! " cried de Rame- 
 say. 
 
 Anne de Rohan instantly sank to the floor and 
 knelt by the prostrate form of the English captain. 
 
 " Ah, mon Dieu! " she cried. " He is dying! " 
 
 There was a look on her face, in her eyes, for 
 which de Vitre would have given all he possessed. 
 As the soldiers unbound him, he sprang to her side. 
 
 " You love him! " he cried. " You love him! " 
 
 149
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 " THOU SHALT NOT COVET " 
 
 ANNE DE ROHAN had admitted to herself as she 
 had watched Grafton before he recovered conscious 
 ness that she loved him. If there had been any 
 doubt in her mind of the permanence of her feelings 
 of bygone days and their development from the 
 childish devotion to the deep passionate love which 
 filled her soul, the tell-tale kiss she had pressed upon 
 his forehead when she thought him dying would 
 have undeceived her. And she realized it more en 
 tirely at that moment when she saw him lying white 
 and still at her feet in the hall. That something of 
 her feeling had expressed itself in her looks she did 
 not doubt. 
 
 But it is one thing to admit a fact in the secret 
 recesses of one's own consciousness, or even to look 
 one's feelings, and another to have it proclaimed on 
 the housetops. She bitterly resented de Vitre's im 
 pulsive allegation, and that it was true but en 
 hanced her indignation against him and against her 
 self. How could she, a de Rohan, love this com 
 moner of America? How could she, a French wom 
 an, bestow her affection upon an enemy? How 
 could she give her heart to a man who wore an- 
 
 150
 
 " Thou shalt not Covet " 
 
 other woman's picture above his own? Everything 
 stood in the way of any future relationship whatever 
 between them. 
 
 And yet how magnificently he had come to the 
 rescue of de Vitre! How nobly he had stood forth 
 in the hall a moment since! O God, it was true! 
 She had betrayed herself; the world would know 
 that she had given away her love to this English 
 officer an enemy. She felt and saw the pointing 
 fingers of her society; she heard the word "Trai 
 tress! Traitress! " in the air. She would not, she 
 could not! 
 
 Yet, how he had looked at her when he clutched 
 her dress with that fevered .question, " Are you in 
 love with Monsieur de Vitre? " She was afraid of 
 herself. If he should recognise her and plead with 
 her could she resist him? No, she feared not, she 
 was sure she could not. She loved him too well to 
 do so. Of that point she was absolutely certain, and 
 of another fact consequent upon the first, as well. 
 She did not love Denis de Vitre. She admired, re 
 spected, esteemed, even liked him but love, no. 
 And yet here was a safeguard. Betrothed to him 
 she could better struggle against the pleadings of 
 her heart. She did not yet realize what her long- 
 dormant feelings toward Philip would be, or how 
 powerful a hold he was to have upon her. 
 
 She would make the sacrifice, she swiftly re 
 solved. She was sadly compromised in her society, 
 anyway, by her visit to the chateau and by her pub 
 lic advocacy of de Vitre. As for the rest, he was a 
 gentleman of position and rank, originally of a Bre- 
 
 151
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 ton family scarcely less ancient than her own. He 
 had given evidence of his heroism, and he loved 
 France. She would do it to protect herself 
 against Grafton. De Vitre should be her anchor. 
 
 As these thoughts passed with the rapidity of 
 lightning itself through her brain, she rose to her 
 feet, leaving Grafton, who already showed signs of 
 returning consciousness, to the ministrations of 
 Jean-Renaud and Josette. Better make assurance 
 double sure against her heart. 
 
 " Monsieur de Vitre," she exclaimed, clearly 
 enough to be heard by all the room, " you forget 
 yourself! How could I love this stranger, an enemy 
 of France? You are not yourself; these trials have 
 bewildered you, and I have but one answer to your 
 charge. You have asked me again and again to 
 to in short, monsieur, are you still " 
 
 " Mademoiselle de Rohan ! " cried de Vitre, 
 clasping her hand, " is it will you " 
 
 " Monsieur, I esteem you, I regard you, I ad 
 mire you. I am willing, with the consent of my 
 grandfather the marquis to be " 
 
 " Monsieur de Ramesay," cried de Vitre, turn 
 ing to the little group, who had been regarding the 
 couple intently, " Mademoiselle de Rohan makes 
 me the happiest of men! She deigns to honour me 
 by promising me her hand." 
 
 " Look to your English friend, Monsieur de 
 Vitre." promptly answered the governor, " and 
 quickly! " 
 
 " Maledictions upon me! " cried de Vitre, kneel 
 ing beside the two servants. " A surgeon, quick! " 
 
 152
 
 " Thou shalt not Covet " 
 
 The physician, who had been previously sum 
 moned, was speedily forthcoming, and under his 
 ministrations the flow of blood was stanched and 
 Grafton presently opened his eyes again. 
 
 " My friend," cried de Vitre, as Grafton recov 
 ered consciousness, "what can I say? What can I 
 do to repay you? On the ship yonder you saved 
 my life. A moment since, in this hall, you saved my 
 honour, and I believe it is to you I owe my greatest 
 happiness." 
 
 " And what is that? " whispered Grafton. 
 
 " Mademoiselle has consented to do me the 
 honour of becoming my wife." 
 
 "Ah! " exclaimed Grafton, as if stricken again. 
 
 " What is it, what is it? " cried the Frenchman, 
 " what can I do? " 
 
 " You might have let me die, de Vitre. But 
 there, 'tis nothing. Take me hence." 
 
 " Where will you be taken, monsieur? " asked 
 the governor. 
 
 " He shall go back to my house," interrupted 
 Anne, " whence he came. And you, Monsieur de 
 Vitre, will accompany " 
 
 " Your pardon, mademoiselle," said de Rame- 
 say, " I believe Monsieur de Vitre to be innocent of 
 all the charges that have been made against him, but 
 my duty compels me to detain him in the castle until 
 I can communicate with the English. One of my 
 aides will accompany you home." 
 
 " 'Tis useless, sir. I have here a faithful guard. 
 If you will have some of your soldiers bring a litter 
 to carry Monsieur Grafton, it will be enough." 
 
 11 153
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 " Watch over him well, mademoiselle! " cried de 
 Vitre, as the soldiers bore him from the room. " I 
 owe him much everything! " 
 
 " Trust me, monsieur," replied the young girl. 
 " Monsieur le Gouverneur, Lieutenant de Vitre, 
 gentlemen, I bid you adieu! " 
 
 With a sweeping courtesy she left the room. 
 
 Attended by Josette and guarded by Jean-Re- 
 naud, with brimming eyes and a leaden heart in her 
 bosom, she walked by the litter as the soldiers bore 
 it through the street. With downcast head she 
 moved, yet no movement of her wounded charge 
 escaped her. Grafton lay on the stretcher with his 
 eyes closed. Once, as the bearers stumbled, he 
 opened them with a sharp exclamation of pain. In 
 stantly she bent over him. As her gaze fell upon 
 his face he slowly turned his head away, as if the 
 sight were too much for him and he could not bear 
 to look upon her. 
 
 " Are you in pain, monsieur? " 
 
 "Ah, Mademoiselle de Couedic!" he an 
 swered, " such pain as I trust you may never 
 know." 
 
 " Why did you turn your head from me? " 
 
 " Mademoiselle," he answered softly, still not 
 looking at her, " I am thinking of some pregnant 
 words in an old book which I had read to me when 
 I was a child." 
 
 " And those words, monsieur? " 
 
 ' Thou shalt not covet.' You understand the 
 English? " he whispered. 
 
 " I understand everything, monsieur." 
 
 154
 
 "Thou shalt not Covet v 
 
 " Monsieur de Vitre," said the governor, " if 
 you give me your parole you may have the freedom 
 of the chateau. I congratulate you first upon your 
 acquittal, and more, monsieur, upon the prize you 
 have gained. Faith, sir, yours is like to be the one 
 victory of the arms of France! Your hand, young 
 sir." 
 
 " Monsieur le Chevalier has insulted me," an 
 swered de Vitre, folding his arms and bowing. 
 " He has accused me of treachery; he has doubted 
 my word. He has ordered me to be shot. I owe 
 nothing to Monsieur de Ramesay. I can not take 
 his hand." 
 
 " Tut, tut, boy ! " cried the governor. " I am 
 old enough to be your father. If I did these things 
 it was because I believed it necessary for the pro 
 tection of the state. Come, I knew your father. 
 You can't refuse an old man, who acknowledges 
 that he was wrong; who says hard words for a sol 
 dier, my young friend that he is sorry. Your 
 hand, sir." 
 
 " And my heart, Monsieur le Chevalier! " cried 
 de Vitre, impulsively springing forward. 
 
 " Ah, that's well! " answered the governor smil 
 ing. " It strikes me that you ought to be happy 
 rather than anything else over the affair. You are 
 rehabilitated, and you have gained the fairest and 
 sweetest woman in New France for a wife. Is it 
 not so, gentlemen? " 
 
 " Monsieur de Vitre," said Captain Rouvigny, 
 shamefacedly, " in behalf of my comrades here, I 
 humbly tender you our apologies, and beg you to 
 
 155
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 vouchsafe to us your forgiveness while you accept 
 our congratulations. On my word, sir, there is not 
 a man in the room who does not envy you, and 
 no one is here who would not gladly stand with a 
 halter around his neck if it were to be taken from 
 his shoulders by the fair hands of Mademoiselle de 
 Rohan." 
 
 " Messieurs," returned de Vitre sternly and 
 coldly, " you are not old soldiers, friends of my 
 father, and I decline." 
 
 " Very well," broke in Rouvigny, his cheek 
 flushing, " if you will have it so, monsieur, I and 
 all of us are at your service." 
 
 " Will some gentleman lend me his sword? " 
 cried de Vitre. " Ah, thank you! " he exclaimed, 
 seizing the nearest one of many proffered him. 
 " You first, Monsieur Rouvigny. On guard! " 
 
 " Messieurs," cried the governor, who had 
 watched the whole scene with much amusement, " is 
 this the time for private brawling? Put up your 
 swords, both of you! Here, Captain Rouvigny! 
 Monsieur de Vitre, I command you! New France 
 at this hour hath sore need for every sword and 
 every hand. Our affairs are desperate. Monsieur 
 de Montcalm dies, Monsieur de Vaudreuil abandons 
 us. We starve alone in this wretched, doomed town! 
 Forgive these gentlemen, de Vitre. They had no 
 personal animus. They but spoke from their sol 
 dierly sense of duty. 'Twas love of country moved 
 them, as it has moved you. Hands all, gentlemen! 
 What, you hesitate! This is twice this day I have 
 stooped to plead! Ah, that's well, messieurs! Join 
 
 156
 
 "Thou shalt not Covet" 
 
 with me in the old cry, Vive la nouvelle France! 
 Now to the walls with you! Monsieur de Vitre, 
 though I restrain you to the chateau for the present, 
 you may still be of service to me to the state. 
 Attend me in my cabinet, I pray you." 
 
 157
 
 BOOK IV 
 
 LOVE WILL HAVE ITS WAY 
 
 CHAPTER -XVII 
 
 RECOGNITION 
 
 GRAFTON still lay on the great bed in the upper 
 chamber, although it was the evening after the day 
 of the battle and the visit to the chateau. He had 
 been promptly put there again by the faithful Jean- 
 Renaud when his bearers had reached the house, 
 and after a quiet night and a long day of perfect rest 
 he felt much better. Dr. Arnoux, who had called to 
 see him in the morning, had reprehended him se 
 verely for his excursion of the day before. Al 
 though the surgeon had been filled with generous 
 admiration at the devotion and courage Grafton had 
 exhibited in behalf of de Vitre in the chateau, he 
 had strictly forbidden him to rise again from the 
 bed for some time at least. With the remembrance 
 of his unfortunate collapse in the chateau at the trial 
 of de Vitre, the Englishman was inclined to heed 
 his advice. Indeed, he could do no less, since his 
 uniform, as a further preventive, had been taken 
 away by Jean-Renaud under the orders of Made 
 moiselle de Rohan. 
 
 The tedium of the day had been relieved by two 
 158
 
 Recognition 
 
 short visits from the mistress of the household. 
 Had she consulted her inclination only, she would 
 not have left him for a moment, but she did not dare 
 trust herself long in his presence. Yet bare hos 
 pitality, the consideration due a sick man whom fate 
 had thrown upon her hands, constrained her at least 
 to inquire as to his health and to supervise in per 
 son the meagre arrangements which the strait 
 ened circumstances necessitated by the rigorous 
 siege of Quebec permitted her to make for his com 
 fort. 
 
 Her visits had been brief, however, and while 
 they lasted she had deliberately stood in the shadow 
 of the bed-curtains, so that no opportunity for a fair 
 look upon her face had been vouchsafed him a 
 thing he was thirsting for and yet which he felt ut 
 terly unable to bring about. Indeed, his thoughts 
 had been so busy with her personality and her image, 
 that the time, which might have dragged as only 
 time can linger, leaden-footed in the sick chamber, 
 had passed before he noticed it. 
 
 Yet he was very dissatisfied with the situation. 
 There was something about the young demoiselle 
 which moved him powerfully, something he could 
 not explain. The thought of her betrothal to de 
 Vitre filled him with a certain jealous dismay he 
 could not exactly tell why. It was hardly possible 
 he could be in love with her himself, a girl he had 
 seen but a day since! He seemed to have known, or 
 to have met her before, though. How was it? De 
 Couedic! And yet 
 
 But what could he do? Nothing. He was mas- 
 
 159
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 terof himself now in the full possession of his facul 
 ties, with no excuse of weakness, wounds, or fever, 
 that is and there could be no possible reason for so 
 personal an appeal to her as he had made when in 
 fevered confusion he had asked her if she loved de 
 Vitre. 
 
 During the day he was attended by a strange 
 servant, and saw neither Jean-Renaud nor Josette, 
 either of whom might have enlightened him had not 
 both been kept from him by the orders of their mis 
 tress. The conversation between the two, therefore, 
 on the occasion of these two visits was necessarily 
 brief: confined on her part to inquiries as to his well- 
 being, his needs, and desires, and upon his part to 
 expressions of gratitude for her kindness, and ear 
 nest deprecations of the trouble he was giving her 
 and her household. 
 
 As for her, every time she approached him she 
 longed to declare herself. With the passionate aban 
 don of a French woman who loved literally for the 
 first time, who found herself in the actual presence 
 of a long-cherished ideal, before a realization of her 
 girlish and maidenly dreams, she would fain have 
 thrown herself upon his breast into his arms. She 
 longed to gather him to her heart and lavish upon 
 him those treasures of affection which all the gal 
 lantry, courage, and devotion of de Vitre could not 
 evoke. And all this in the face of the keen jealousy 
 she suffered over the locket he wore, and the resent 
 ment she felt, in despite of the precautions she took 
 to prevent it, that he had not recognised her which 
 was unreasonable but essentially feminine. 
 
 160
 
 Recognition 
 
 But she had controlled herself like an American. 
 The marquis himself could not have been more cool 
 ly and coldly polite than she. As for Grafton, he 
 had not yet, to use his own expression, " got his 
 bearings." Never in his life had he been so moved 
 by the presence of a woman as during the last two 
 days. He could hardly reason about it clearly in 
 his present condition. But at last he thought that 
 the explanation of this infatuation must lie in his 
 weakness and her beauty, for with singular fatuity 
 he had not succeeded in discovering any other rea 
 son for his interest. 
 
 In the first place, owing to the precautions she 
 had taken, he had not yet had that clear, full sight 
 of the girl for which he longed. She had always 
 been in a half light, or concealed in some shadow, or 
 with face turned away, when she had been with him. 
 He might have looked upon her carefully in the 
 hall of the Chateau St. Louis, but his mind was bent 
 upon other things then, and his physical weakness 
 and the resulting collapse had possibly impaired his 
 judgment as well as his vision. 
 
 Besides all this, she had informed him that her 
 name was de Couedic, which appellation not only 
 told him nothing, but had actually thrown him en 
 tirely on the wrong track. By no possibility could 
 he have imagined that the Countess de Rohan, 
 whom he had left a child a few years before in the 
 Chateau de Josselin in Brittany, would be found 
 now inside the walls of Quebec in America. 
 
 Josette he had scarcely seen since he was wound 
 ed, and he paid no attention to her anyway in 
 
 161
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 the presence of Anne one does not look at the 
 moon when the sun is by. The same might be said 
 of Jean-Renaud. The sergeant had not impressed 
 himself very deeply upon Grafton's consciousness 
 when he had been held a prisoner at the chateau, 
 and the changed uniform and dress, together with 
 the lapse of time, had prevented his being recog 
 nised. Anne had been very careful not to call the 
 names of her two servitors in his presence after she 
 had recognised him, and during the day he had not 
 seen either of them. Luck, too, was against him. 
 Indeed, how could he have recognised in this glori 
 ous specimen of glowing womanhood the thin, un 
 developed little girl of other days? 
 
 Anne de Rohan was now eighteen years of age 
 and in the first flush of beautiful womanhood. Of 
 medium height, with a figure which combined the 
 lovely proportions of her American ancestry with 
 the daintiness and delicacy of the women of France; 
 with a clear, cool, pale yet not pallid face, exqui 
 site features, scarlet lips, proudly, ay, even disdain 
 fully elegant in their graceful curves; deep blue 
 eyes, so deep that they were almost violet when 
 filled with feeling or glowing with passion, and the 
 whole framed in her midnight hair; she was indeed 
 a rarely beautiful woman. The performance of her 
 maturity was indeed greater than her childhood's 
 promise had been. Only a prophet might have seen 
 the one in the past, or a seer recognise the other in 
 the present. 
 
 A strange concatenation of circumstances had 
 brought the girl to New France. After Grafton's 
 
 162
 
 Recognition 
 
 departure from the Chateau de Josselin she had 
 drooped and faded. She was growing too rapidly, 
 thought the marquis and those who advised him, 
 who never suspected the real reason for her ill 
 health. She actually had pined for the young man 
 who had left her behind and yet had taken her child 
 ish heart with him. But of this, of course, she 
 said nothing, so the wise men concluded that she 
 had studied too hard, had been too closely confined, 
 and so on. The physicians who were consulted, 
 after the simple remedies of the time had proved 
 unavailing, finally recommended a sea-voyage. 
 
 As it happened, the marquis had just then been 
 summoned to the King to take part as a commander 
 in one of the campaigns of the Seven Years' War, 
 his experience and ability being too valuable to 
 allow him to be neglected. The old man, therefore, 
 had taken advantage of the departure of a heavy 
 French squadron, carrying General, the Marquis de 
 Montcalm, his suite, and some troops, to send his 
 grand-daughter to Canada under the charge of the 
 general, an old friend, who had been appointed to 
 the supreme military command in New France. 
 An ancient relative of the house of Rohan lived in 
 affluence and ease in Quebec, and to her the mar 
 quis consigned the young countess. 
 
 She had remained in New France with this es 
 timable lady ever since her arrival, for two reasons: 
 one, it had been difficult well-nigh impossible, in 
 deed, on account of the number of English ships 
 cruising to intercept the traffic between Canada and 
 France to get away; and the other, as the marquis 
 
 163
 
 The (3uiberon Touch 
 
 was still engaged in the French army, she would 
 have had no place to which to go, no place 
 where she could have lived so comfortably and safely 
 if she returned to France. The marquis was deter 
 mined that he would not throw her into the hotbed 
 of dissipation and intrigue of which Louis XV was 
 the focus, in Paris or at Versailles. 
 
 Her health, much benefited by the voyage, was 
 soon completely restored, and with her great beauty, 
 her ancient name, her powerful grandfather, the 
 great estates to which she was sole heiress, she be 
 came, as childhood gave way to womanhood, the 
 undoubted belle of New France. The officers of 
 the army, the sea officers from the various ships or 
 squadrons which from time to time arrived from 
 France, the young Canadian noblesse, all laid their 
 hearts at her feet. She could have chosen any 
 one from among them, but as yet none of them had 
 succeeded in touching her heart. Most of them 
 she liked and the society of many of them she 
 enjoyed. 
 
 In all the gaieties of Canada and the traditions 
 of France were royally maintained in the New 
 World she participated. Yet with native dignity 
 and pride she held herself aloof from the dissolute 
 set surrounding the able but unscrupulous Intend- 
 ant, Bigot; and if she acquired knowledge of the 
 world, she neither lost her innocence of heart nor 
 sacrificed her purity of soul in the attainment. 
 
 Among the many she had met who had paid 
 court to her, the man she most liked, and who was, 
 in fact, perhaps the finest among them, was the 
 
 164
 
 Recognition 
 
 young sailor to whom, in fear of her love for Graf- 
 tori, she had just engaged herself. She had refused 
 his suit many times before, but with undaunted gal 
 lantry he had persisted in his attentions. 
 
 The two had many ties in common. They both 
 came from Breton families. Upon the score of 
 wealth, breeding, and personality de Vitre was an 
 entirely suitable companion for her. In but one 
 particular did he fall below the required standard. 
 His family, while old, was not to be mentioned in 
 the same breath with hers, and as he was only the 
 son of a cadet of his house, a simple chevalier, hold 
 ing the rank qf lieutenant in the navy, he was from 
 that point of view no match for her. 
 
 How her grandfather, the marquis, would re 
 gard the engagement upon which she had so sud 
 denly and capriciously entered was problematical. 
 In fact, she felt that he would disapprove; but while 
 she was wholly French in her training and in her 
 ideas she was not for nothing the daughter of an 
 American mother. She combined a determination 
 to exercise a certain liberty of choice as to the dis 
 position of her heart and person with the stubborn, 
 inflexible will power of her grandfather. Therefore 
 she could meet the certain antagonism of the mar 
 quis with two weapons his own and her mother's. 
 She trusted also that he might be won to her views; 
 she was sure he would rather see her dead than have 
 her marry an Englishman, an enemy, and she 
 hoped, when she explained to him that in utter 
 despair she had thrown herself into the arms of the 
 one to escape the promptings of her heart, which 
 
 165
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 would fain have thrown her into the arms of the 
 other, that he would acquiesce. 
 
 She had no one to advise her, poor child! The 
 ancient relative to whose care she had been com 
 mitted, had died a few weeks since of the cares, 
 anxieties and privations brought about by the 
 siege. An ordinary French girl would have gone to 
 a convent under the circumstances, but Anne pos 
 sessed a certain amount of self-reliance and inde 
 pendence, and she resolved, for the time being, at 
 least, to remain at her own house with old Jean-Re- 
 naud and Josette. If the English were driven away 
 she made up her mind that at any hazard she would 
 take ship for France. If, on the contrary, the Eng 
 lish captured the town she would- probably be sent 
 back a prisoner. So she awaited the issue of the 
 campaign, in the meantime busying herself with 
 caring for the sick and wounded. 
 
 She would have appealed for advice to the Mar 
 quis de Montcalm as her father's friend and an hon 
 ourable man in whom she could trust, and upon 
 whose judgment she could depend, but the exigen 
 cies of the siege had so fully occupied that general 
 that she was not willing to trouble him with her 
 private affairs, and now it was too late. 
 
 It was evening. She stood by the dormer win 
 dow looking out on the street. Grafton watched 
 her closely from the bed. She had stopped a mo 
 ment to inquire for him, her third and to be her 
 last visit that day, and then, attracted by a commo 
 tion outside, she had gone to the window. 
 
 A little cortege filled the street below. Some sol- 
 166
 
 Recognition 
 
 diers bore upon their shoulders a rude wooden box. 
 Over it was laid the golden-lilied white flag of 
 France, and upon the flag a handsome sword. A 
 half-dozen men, holding pine torches whose flick 
 ering, wavering flames cast an uncertain illumi 
 nation over the scene, walked by the makeshift 
 coffin. Immediately behind came a few priests, 
 and then Monsieur de Ramesay and his staff, and a 
 little huddle of townspeople the idle and the 
 curious. 
 
 There were no strains of martial music; there 
 was neither blare of bugle nor roll of drum, nor toll 
 ing of bells. There was no ceremony, no pomp; 
 there were no women even. 
 
 Anne leaned her head upon the casement, her 
 tears falling softly. Her body shook with sobs. 
 Grafton stared at her keenly and curiously. There 
 was a strange pain at his heart when he saw her 
 weep. 
 
 Presently the funeral procession passed the win 
 dow. The lights from the torches, almost at a level 
 with her face in the window of the low-studded old 
 house, threw it into high and bright relief. She 
 was off her guard, not thinking of herself or even 
 of Grafton, for the moment. It was the first time 
 that he had been able to see her well. Suggestions 
 of the truth came across him with a sense of shock, 
 and yet he did not quite recognise her. He was not 
 sure. It could not be. 
 
 " Mademoiselle/' he said softly, " you told me 
 your name was " 
 
 " De Couedic. Yes, monsieur," she answered, 
 167
 
 The (3uiberon Touch 
 
 with her eyes still fixed upon the street, though he 
 noticed that she turned her face away from him. 
 
 Was she discovered at last? Could he suspect, 
 she thought. 
 
 " I had thought," he continued, then he stopped. 
 
 " Mademoiselle, you weep," he said. 
 
 " Yes, monsieur." 
 
 " Who passes in the street? Those lights, what 
 are they? " 
 
 " Monsieur, a funeral." 
 
 " Whose funeral, mademoiselle? " 
 
 " Alas, monsieur, I think it is the burial of New 
 France! " 
 
 " Mademoiselle? " 
 
 ( 'Tis the funeral of the Marquis de Montcalm, 
 monsieur. He is being borne to his last rest." 
 
 "He was a brave man, Mademoiselle de Couedic, 
 and he died as a soldier would fain die, in the front 
 of the battle line." 
 
 " He was my grandfather's friend, monsieur, 
 and mine. He was so good to me. I know his wife, 
 his children. He loved them and longed to go back 
 to them. But he loved his country, his duty, his 
 King, more than all, monsieur, and so he stayed, 
 and now he will never go back any more." 
 
 She put her face down in her hands and sobbed 
 bitterly. People are as little children when they 
 weep. Where had he seen that bowed head? 
 Heavens! was it not upon his own shoulder? Why, 
 the picture was the same! The moonlight was steal 
 ing through the casement just as before. She wore 
 something filmy and white. It might have been that 
 
 168
 
 Recognition 
 
 night-robe that had enshrouded the slender girl. 
 His heart beat so that it nearly suffocated him, and 
 yet de Couedic! It could not be! 
 
 " Mademoiselle," he said, all the passion surging 
 in his soul quivering in his voice, " do not weep. 
 By Heaven, I do not know how or why it is, but to 
 see you weep tears my very heart! Can it be that I 
 saw you but yesterday and loved you, mademoi 
 selle? " 
 
 She turned and faced him. The feeling in his 
 voice, the look in his eyes, as she stared at him, 
 so perfectly matched her own she had no will nor 
 power to withstand any longer. Deliberately she 
 fetched a light from behind the curtain and set it 
 down on the table at the head of his bed; then she 
 stood where the full light would fall on her face, and 
 drawing herself up threw out her arms wide before 
 him. 
 
 " Monsieur! " she cried. " Oh, do you not 
 know me? " 
 
 " Is it thou, Little France?" he exclaimed, dazed 
 and bewildered by his thoughts. " Who could have 
 thought it? How beautiful! " 
 
 She dashed away the tears with her hand. She 
 thought he had not yet recognised her, as he lay 
 spellbound gazing on her matchless beauty. Her 
 scarlet lips quivered a moment, then shaped them 
 selves for sound, and from her full, soft throat came 
 the notes of the little Breton cradle-song which 
 he had heard her sing in the garden of the Hesperi- 
 des, Toutouie, la la! But no mother ever sang 
 it to child as she sang it then. 
 12 169
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 "Anne!" he cried. " The Lady Anne ! Fool 
 that I was! How blind! I should have known you! 
 I should have recognised your footstep even had I 
 lain dead on your doorstep! " 
 
 "Sir Philip! Sir Philip!" she exclaimed. 
 " How could you forget? But I knew! Oh, my 
 love, my love! " 
 
 She sank on her knees at the bedside again and 
 leaned over him. 
 
 " But you are betrothed to de Vitre? " he cried 
 in jealous anguish. 
 
 "Ah, Philip, my knight!" she murmured, 
 " what matters it? 'Tis you I love, I love! " 
 
 She threw her arms around his neck; their lips 
 met in one long kiss charged with dreams and ideals 
 of years. The joy, the surprise, were almost too 
 great for him. He closed his eyes; in his weak state 
 he thought he would have fainted. It had all come 
 upon him suddenly with such a shock. She had 
 known it for two days. He had been so desperately 
 wounded. 
 
 She was the stronger of the two then and she re 
 covered herself the sooner. Something assisted her, 
 perhaps. Her throbbing breast as it lay upon his 
 own was met by the pressure of something round 
 and hard. The little locket! It flashed into her 
 jealous mind in an instant. 
 
 " Monsieur Grafton," she said, drawing away 
 from him with a sudden change of mood, " you not 
 only forgot me, you not only did not know me, but 
 you That locket, sir? " 
 
 " Yes, mademoiselle," answered Grafton simply, 
 170
 
 Recognition 
 
 for it was impossible for him to deceive this woman, 
 or to evade the question. 
 
 " Ah! Carrying another woman's face over your 
 heart and speaking love to me! " 
 
 "O Anne!" he cried, "there may be another 
 woman in the locket, there is only yourself in my 
 heart!" 
 
 " Whose picture is there? " 
 
 " I may not tell." 
 
 " Monsieur will not tell? " 
 
 " Nay, I can not. 'Tis honour seals my lips." 
 
 He wished he had never given the promise so 
 lightly uttered in the cabin of the Sutherland, but, 
 being given, it must be faithfully kept. 
 
 " The honour of a woman? " she asked. 
 
 " Of a man, mademoiselle, of a soldier, of a 
 friend." 
 
 " Explain yourself, monsieur." 
 
 " Mademoiselle Anne, I can not, but I give you 
 my word of honour as an English officer, the word 
 of an American gentleman, your mother's land, 
 mademoiselle, that the lady of the locket is nothing 
 to me, that I cherish the face of no woman except 
 your own. Ever since those days when I was held 
 a prisoner in the old chateau, since the hour do 
 you not recall it? when I carried you in my arms 
 and kissed you first, I have loved you. I have 
 thought and dreamed of you alone among woman 
 kind. When I went away from France I left my 
 heart behind. You have had it you have it 
 now." 
 
 " But the locket? " she persisted, while the 
 171
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 music of his words rang sweetly in the most secret 
 chamber of her heart. 
 
 " Forget it." 
 
 " Take it off, then." 
 
 " I can not." 
 
 " Can not? And yet she is nothing to you, you 
 say? " 
 
 " Even so, yet that little thing I can not do. I 
 have sworn never to part with it until " 
 
 "Ah, monsieur!" she continued bitterly, turn 
 ing away. " You see! What can I believe? " 
 
 " Believe only that I love you; trust in my hon 
 our; you will laugh at this, we will laugh together, 
 when I am able to tell you some day. In the mean 
 time have faith in me. Won't you trust me? " he 
 continued, as she shook her head. " Twice I might 
 have died if it had not been for you. Twice you 
 have called me back to life. My life is yours, and 
 yours is mine. I will not be denied." He turned 
 and stretched out his one uninjured hand. " Come 
 back. If there is the faintest feeling of affection in 
 your own heart, if you know what love is, you must 
 know 'tis here! " 
 
 She hesitated, she moved nearer, hesitated again. 
 He strove to rise, wrenched his arm, covered his 
 eyes with his hand, stifled a moan. That decided 
 her. He suffered, and she fled to him once again, 
 a little murmuring cry, an inarticulate caress on her 
 lips. 
 
 Oh, the ecstasy of that moment! 
 
 We live long years for the emotions of an hour, 
 the pleasure of a second. We waste lifetimes in 
 
 172
 
 Recognition 
 
 solitary kisses, and the sum of dreams is gone in a 
 single touch. 
 
 Anne de Rohan was promised to de Vitre. She 
 meant to keep her promise. She was wildly, bitterly 
 jealous of the woman in the locket, too, in spite of 
 his assurances, although she really believed them, 
 and she had never intended this. She knew she 
 could never be anything to Grafton. Her reason, 
 her sense, told her that this was folly, but the deter 
 mination of her mind was abrogated by the feelings 
 of her heart. Perhaps because she knew there was 
 nothing beyond she gave way the more easily to 
 her emotions. The flood-gates were open again, the 
 long-pent-up floods were out once more. Ah, this 
 time there would be no confining them again! 
 
 She knelt beside that old bed, she slipped her 
 fair, round young arm underneath his neck and lav 
 ished caresses upon him. Her hands played with 
 the curls upon his forehead. Her eyes looked love 
 in his, her voice whispered endearments in broken 
 tones; all her being went out to meet his. She was 
 trembling with her passion, nervous at his touch; 
 she could not be quiet, she must move or die. She 
 hovered over him like an angel of love and tender 
 ness. 
 
 He lay there so white, so pale, so weak, so happy, 
 with a love that was as strong as hers looking from 
 his eyes. His one free hand she held tightly, 
 pressed it to her breast, kissed it, fondled it again 
 and again. 
 
 And how beautiful she was! One look in the 
 unfathomable depths of those great eyes might have 
 
 173
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 told him the truth before. The sound of that voice 
 quivering with joy that was almost pain should 
 have spoken to him. How blind he had been a 
 fool! He forgot five years of separation and grieved 
 that he had lost one day! The past faded away, 
 the future lay in the distance, the present was their 
 own. 
 
 Presently, as the first fierce intensity of her pas 
 sion spent itself, she laid her head upon his breast 
 and listened in sweet surrender to the beating of his 
 heart, hearing that heart throbbing for her, only 
 for her. The room was very still. Words were 
 never coined to express what they felt, and neither 
 spoke. 
 
 It was dark outside. The night had fallen. 
 Clouds had swept across the face of the moon, hid 
 ing its splendour. The sky was overcast, muttered 
 peals of thunder rolled swiftly through the cham 
 ber. The candle had burned itself out, it flickered 
 away; the gray shadows grew into darkness. It was 
 deep and still there. In that silence heart whispered 
 to heart in language which gods and lovers may 
 understand. By-and-bye her arm was slipped from 
 beneath his head. Had hours or moments passed, 
 or had they lived an eternity since the kiss of recog 
 nition? Her head, that had lain so lightly upon his 
 breast, was lifted. The sweet lips, whose colour he 
 could dream of even in the darkness, melted once 
 again upon his own and she was gone. 
 
 He had not moved or stirred. After she left 
 him the sweet illusion was still heavy upon him. He 
 could feel the presence of her head, the perfume, the 
 
 174
 
 Recognition 
 
 fragrance of her hair, the beating of her heart. He 
 closed his eyes in the darkness. Her lips seemed to 
 brush his own again again. 
 
 Did he sleep, did he dream? All night long she 
 seemed to be by his side. 
 
 175
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 FALLS THE FLAG OF FRANCE 
 
 DE RAMESAY stood again in his private office in 
 the shot-racked Chateau St. Louis. From the Eng 
 lish batteries at Point Levis the cannon were con 
 tinuously firing upon the already ruined lower town, 
 and even upon the castle itself. From Townshend's 
 intrenchments on the landward side the heavy siege 
 guns which had been landed from the British ships 
 were raining shot and shell upon the upper town 
 and the citadel. Fiedmont, the French chief of ar 
 tillery, was making what reply he could. The fleet 
 of Admiral Saunders in the basin had been moving 
 up toward the lower town during the past week, and 
 as de Ramesay watched them, large boats full of 
 troops were even then being landed on the meadows 
 and flats at the mouth of the St. Charles River and 
 were being drawn up in columns under cover of the 
 ships' batteries, as if preparing to approach and 
 storm the gate nearest the bridge. 
 
 De Ramesay had just come in from a tour of the 
 walls. It was a hopeless outlook indeed before the 
 governor. He had done his best, but the end was 
 approaching. Sad indeed is the moment when we 
 realize that our best is unavailing. The rations of 
 
 176
 
 Falls the Flag of France 
 
 all had been reduced and reduced until starvation 
 stared them in the face. No part of the town was 
 safe now from the English fire. The very chateau 
 itself in which he stood was riddled with shells. 
 There was a great gaping hole in the roof of his cab 
 inet, through which the rain poured dismally. 
 
 The temper of the garrison had grown worse and 
 worse. Nothing whatever had been heard from de 
 Levis. De Ramesay felt that if an assault were de 
 livered it could not be met. His garrison originally 
 consisted of one hundred and fifty troops of the line, 
 some four or five hundred colony troops, and the 
 local militia, but had been much reduced by death, 
 wounds, and starvation, and was growing less every 
 day. The colonial soldiers and militia had been de 
 serting in handfuls. 
 
 Presently Captain Rouvigny entered. 
 
 " Monsieur," he said, saluting, " a body of mer 
 chants, headed by Monsieur Daine, are here to see 
 you, and " 
 
 " Bid them attend me in the great hall of the 
 chateau, captain," interrupted the governor gloom 
 ily, " and summon the officers of my staff. Let 
 some one go for Monsieur Piedmont, if he can be 
 spared from the walls. We need his counsel." 
 
 " I omitted to state, monsieur," continued the 
 young officer, " that the merchants are accompanied 
 by the officers of the city militia." 
 
 " Let them all come together, I will see them 
 all. I know what it means," said de Ramesay de 
 spondently. 
 
 A few moments after he entered the great hall 
 177
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 of the bullet-ridden castle. Many of the portraits 
 which had adorned it had been destroyed by the fire 
 of the enemy. Grim old Frontenac, the unconquer 
 able, however, still kept watch and ward over the 
 territory he had loved, now fast slipping into the 
 hands of the hated English. Had he been in de 
 Vaudreuil's place, thought de Ramesay, they might 
 not now be in such a pass. 
 
 Through the broken window-panes the rain beat 
 and the wind swept in mournful harmony with the 
 thoughts of the people who crowded the room. At 
 the lower end were congregated a body of the most 
 influential citizens of the town. Their plain but 
 rich dress, comfortable cloaks, prosperous appear 
 ance, proclaimed that they were men of substance 
 and condition. A little apart from them stood 
 the officers of the colonial militia in bedraggled, 
 weather-stained uniforms. 
 
 The merchants faced de Ramesay boldly. The 
 eyes of the citizen soldiery sank to the ground, and 
 they looked everywhere but at him. They shifted 
 uneasily under the stern gaze of the veteran com 
 mander, while their hands played nervously with 
 their sword-hilts. De Ramesay was attended by the 
 officers of his staff, able soldiers all; some of them 
 were drenched with rain and covered with marks of 
 their exposure to the inclement weather, which 
 showed they had just come from the ramparts. 
 Among them were Rouvigny, St. Luc, Piedmont, 
 and Joannes the town major, and with them de 
 Vitre, still under restraint by de Ramesay's order. 
 
 The governor stood at the great table with his 
 178
 
 Falls the Flag of France 
 
 officers grouped around him. The merchants and 
 militia officers drifted together at the opposite side. 
 A stranger would have instantly recognised that 
 here were two parties to debate a serious proposi 
 tion. Sadness was the predominating note in de 
 Ramesay's face ; haughty pride and contempt 
 flashed from the eyes of the nobles and professional 
 soldiers at his back; dogged determination was evi 
 denced in every line in the portly figures of the mer 
 chants; and stubborn shame spoke from the 
 drooped heads of the militia officers. 
 
 " Messieurs," said the governor quietly, " you 
 have asked an audience for a purpose which I can 
 but too well divine. Will you speak your mind and 
 have done with it? The gentlemen of the counter 
 first." 
 
 He turned inquiringly to the merchants, but no 
 one apparently cared to break the silence. No one 
 wished to assume the stigma of being the first to 
 make the proposition in furtherance of which they 
 had assembled. 
 
 "What, gentlemen!" continued de Ramesay 
 sarcastically, " are your desires so base that none of 
 you have even courage to mention them? Mon 
 sieur Daine, it was at your house, I am informed, 
 that the gentlemen held their meeting this morning. 
 Will you speak? " 
 
 " Monsieur le Chevalier," stammered Daine, 
 flushing and paling by turns, " we are we can not 
 we do not in short, we came to beg you to sur 
 render the town." 
 
 "Ah! " said the governor, "and why should I 
 179
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 give up a charge devolved upon me by his Majesty 
 the King? " 
 
 " We are starving, monsieur," answered Daine 
 more boldly; " our dwellings, our shops, our ware 
 houses are ruined. We can do no more. If the 
 English break into the town, if they storm the walls, 
 we have over two thousand women and children 
 here. Think of them, sir! " 
 
 " True," said de Ramesay, " but so long as we 
 have arms in our hands the English will not break 
 through the walls. Is it not so, gentlemen? " 
 
 " Vive la nouvelle France! " 
 
 " Let us die for the flag! " 
 
 " Vive le roil " 
 
 " Death to the English ! " broke in confused ac 
 clamations from the little group of officers behind 
 the chevalier. The others were silent. 
 
 " How is it that I hear no response to my appeal 
 from the officers of the militia? " continued the gov 
 ernor. " Gentlemen, do you allow your brothers of 
 the regular army to outdo you in patriotism? " 
 
 " By God, sir! " ripped out one of the leading 
 officers of the militia, " we can not fight any more, 
 and there's an end to it! Our men are deserting by 
 hundreds, and we are hungry! We have had noth 
 ing to eat since last night, nothing to drink either! 
 'Tis ill keeping guard and fighting on nothing! The 
 English are there in thousands, curse them! We 
 can not keep them out. My men won't fight any 
 longer! " 
 
 "Nor mine!" 
 
 " Nor mine! " rang through the hall. 
 1 80
 
 Falls the Flag of France 
 
 " And you, monsieur, has your stomach for fight 
 also left you? " asked de Ramesay, frowning upon 
 the man. 
 
 " Yes, it has! " snapped out the officer furiously. 
 " 'Tis a hopeless contest, the city is lost! " 
 
 " Yes, yes, he is right! " 
 
 " Surrender! " 
 
 " Give up the town! " 
 
 " We are lost! " cried one after another. 
 
 There was no doubt either of their unanimity or 
 of their determination. 
 
 " You cowards! " exclaimed the 'governor bit 
 terly, turning upon them with a withering glance of 
 contempt. His calmness gone, he stamped his foot 
 in passionate scorn and anger. 
 
 It was de Vitre who broke the silence which fol 
 lowed this insulting charge. He sprang from the 
 side of the governor in fierce passion, seized the big 
 militiaman by the shoulder, twice struck him vio 
 lently with the flat of his sword, and then with a 
 furious shove sent him reeling back among his as 
 tonished and indignant companions. 
 
 A fierce roar of rage was blasted up from the ex 
 cited militiamen. They surged toward de Vitre, 
 who faced them undaunted, his blade out now. 
 Swords and espontons were lifted in the air, pistols 
 handled, fists shaken, and curses and yells filled the 
 room. 
 
 "Back!" cried the governor sternly. "I am 
 astonished at you, Monsieur de Vitre this brawl 
 ing can not be tolerated under the circumstances! 
 A divided house we are and indeed defenceless. 
 
 181
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 And you, messieurs," he continued, turning to the 
 volunteers, " you seem to have spirit enough to 
 fight among yourselves. Gentlemen, it is not possi 
 ble that you are all agreed with the major who has 
 just spoken? " 
 
 The restraint was off the mob now, the ice was 
 broken. They crowded about the old general with 
 oaths and protestations, demanding that he sur 
 render the town. Presently the merchants and busi 
 ness men joined in. Words were passed back and 
 forth, and the whole assemblage broke out in the 
 most violent disorder. The room was filled with 
 clamour. 
 
 In the midst of the confusion, which well indi 
 cated the disorganization in the town, an officer 
 burst into the hall and shouldered his way through 
 the struggling mob toward the governor. The 
 crowd became silent as they recognised his presence 
 and instinctively felt that he had news of impor 
 tance. His face was grave with anxiety. 
 
 " Monsieur," he cried, saluting, " the English 
 are about to storm the St. Charles Gate! Monsieur 
 le Gardeur, who commands there, has sent me to 
 say that the town troops have thrown down their 
 arms and have refused to fight! He has no force to 
 stay the advance. For God's sake, send re-enforce 
 ments, or we are lost! " 
 
 Even as he spoke another officer came running 
 into the room from the walls on the other side. 
 
 " Monsieur le Gouverneur," he cried, as he en 
 tered the apartment, " the colonial troops have 
 withdrawn from the walls! Captain Le Moyne says 
 
 182
 
 Falls the Flag of France 
 
 that the English battalions are mustering for an im 
 mediate attack. He has not enough regulars to man 
 the guns! He must have re-enforcements immedi 
 ately, and the men are hungry! " 
 
 " Is there an ounce of bread left," asked the gov 
 ernor, turning to the quarter-master, " to feed the 
 soldiers who are faithful and these cattle? " 
 
 " Nothing, sir," answered that functionary sad 
 ly, " the last ration was issued last night." 
 
 " You see, sir," cried the merchant, " to what 
 straits we are reduced! My children cry for bread! " 
 
 " My wife suffers with hunger; we are ruined! " 
 cried another. 
 
 " My soldiers starve! " exclaimed a third. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said the unfortunate chevalier, 
 turning to the militia, " you have some influence 
 with your men surely! Return to them, beg them 
 to fight one more day! Monsieur de Levis will 
 surely succour us. Upon us depends the fortune of 
 New France. When we strike the flag we give up 
 a province, an empire! For God's sake, messieurs, 
 for the King, for your own lands, once more to the 
 walls! Vive la nouvelle France! " 
 
 The militia officers stood in gloomy silence in 
 the face of this appeal. The feeble acclamations of 
 the loyal officers of the line were drowned by a 
 dreadful crashing sound, followed by a detonating 
 explosion, which hurled the people in the room in 
 every direction. A shell from the batteries burst in 
 the hall. 
 
 " Sauve qui pent! " cried one in the smoke. 
 
 " We have no safety anywhere ! " 
 
 183
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 "Strike the flag!" 
 
 " Fly, fly, messieurs! " 
 
 The room was filled with men, dead, wounded, 
 and stunned. Groans, curses, shrieks resounded. 
 Scarcely knowing what had happened, the governor, 
 de Vitre, and the rest, blinded, dazed, and choking, 
 found themselves swept out of the chateau to the 
 terrace in front of it overlooking the river. From 
 the tall staff above them floated the white flag of 
 France. There was an excited group of men 
 around it. Two or three eager hands clutched at 
 the halliards. Slowly, as if with reluctance, the 
 proud banner came drooping down to the earth. 
 
 De Vitre, Rouvigny, Joannes, Fiedmont, and 
 two or three others with drawn swords ran into the 
 midst of the mob, driving back the townspeople 
 and the officers. With eager hands they strove to 
 hoist the flag, but the halliards had been cut and 
 they could only lift it in their hands a little space 
 above the sodden ground. As they realized the 
 effort, their antagonists swept down upon them 
 again. The governor's spirit was unabated, but his 
 resolution at this gave way. He succumbed to the 
 inevitable. 
 
 " Let be! " he cried, breaking his sword and 
 throwing the pieces far from him, " the flag is down. 
 Be it remembered that it was not my hand that 
 struck it! You cowards, you have your way! It 
 is the end of New France." 
 
 He stood, with the tears trickling down his 
 rugged old face, a picture of shame and sorrow. 
 
 One by one the big guns that ringed the city 
 184
 
 Falls the Flag of France 
 
 ceased to pour their shot upon the town, as the Eng 
 lish saw the flag come down. Although the heavy 
 smoke still hung low in the sodden air, a silence om 
 inous and gloomy for the Frenchmen succeeded the 
 roar of the cannonade. The ships in the harbour 
 were soon black with men. From the meadows on 
 the Plains of Abraham the sound of cheering could 
 be heard faintly, and down by the St. Charles Gate, 
 where the columns of the English were massed, 
 came back an echo of the joyful sound. It was the 
 death-knell of the province. 
 
 Major Joannes, reluctantly complying, while 
 bitterly protesting, was despatched with a white flag 
 to General Townshend's headquarters. With the 
 cessation of the bombardment the townspeople, re 
 gardless of the rain, poured into the streets. The 
 plateau in front of the chateau was soon filled with 
 people shouting, gesticulating, laughing, crying, 
 sobbing like mad. The grim old governor, with the 
 officers about him, stood at the foot of the flagstaff 
 looking over that marvelous prospect which should 
 never again belong to France. Presently Joannes 
 returned. 
 
 :< The terms, major? " cried the governor. 
 
 " The garrison to march out with the honours 
 of war, with their arms, two pieces of cannon, and 
 twenty rounds; afterward to be transported to 
 France with such of the townspeople as choose to 
 go with them. The free exercise of our religion 
 permitted and the rights and property of the people 
 respected." 
 
 " And the alternative, monsieur? " 
 13 185
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 " Immediate attack." 
 
 " Have you the paper? " 
 
 " Within my breast, sir," answered Joannes. 
 
 " Let us go to the chateau; we will sign it." 
 
 Presently the two reappeared on the terrace. 
 
 " Say to the English that the people are starv 
 ing, and ask them in the name of the women and 
 children to send us something to eat at once," said 
 the governor. 
 
 Joannes saluted, turned away, and was gone. 
 The people watched him disappear in silence. 
 
 Shots were heard outside the walls a few mo 
 ments after he had left. There was a sudden clat 
 ter of horses in the Rue St. Louis. A squadron of 
 cavalry dashed helter-skelter through the crowd, 
 which gave way at their approach, and the leader 
 sprang to the ground before the governor. 
 
 " A message from Monsieur de Levis! " he cried, 
 saluting. " He will attack the English to-morrow! 
 Meanwhile he sends you these," pointing to his own 
 horse, upon which before and behind the saddle lay 
 a heavy bag of meal. " All my men are similarly 
 provided, monsieur. One more day and you are 
 rescued! Here are food and re-enforcements. We 
 cut through the English lines and made the gate. 
 Some poor fellows, alas! dropped on the way. Be 
 of good heart, Monsieur le Gouverneur, salvation 
 is at hand! Vive la -nouvelle France! " 
 
 He was a bold fellow who uttered these words, 
 and the fickle townspeople, catching the glorious 
 information, sent up cheer after cheer. The temper 
 of the militia seemed to have changed. Led by their 
 
 1 86
 
 Falls the Flag of France 
 
 sometime recalcitrant officers, they now clamoured 
 to be sent to the walls. 
 
 " Too late, monsieur! " said de Ramesay bitterly, 
 surveying with gloomy contempt the changing 
 scene, " you have waited too long. I have surren 
 dered the town. These false, fickle cowards refused 
 to fight. They deserted the walls. The English 
 were marching to storm the place. With one hun 
 dred and fifty faithful soldiers and these few gentle 
 men I could do nothing. There were women and 
 children to be thought of. Too late,* sir! Return 
 to Monsieur de Levis I will provide you with a 
 flag and tell him that all is over in Quebec! " 
 
 \ 
 
 187
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE PLAY, THE STAKE, AND THE PLAYERS 
 
 MEANWHILE, what of the Countess Anne and 
 Captain Grafton? They had passed through a week 
 of such mingled emotions, such alternations of 
 joy and sorrow, of love and jealousy, of remem 
 brances and anticipation, as could scarcely be de 
 scribed. 
 
 When the woman he loved left him alone the 
 night he recognised her, after that rapturous ex 
 change of kisses, Grafton felt himself transported to 
 heaven. He forgot, in the happiness consequent 
 upon his discovery of her identity, the racial antag 
 onisms which should lie between them; he forgot 
 the great gulf of war which held them asunder; he 
 even forgot the engagement of Anne to de Vitre. 
 But the next morning, when the first glow of his 
 passion had left him, he was enabled to view things 
 in a clearer light. 
 
 He carefully took account of the different ob 
 stacles which separated, or might tend to separate, 
 him from the woman he loved. He intended to 
 win her, come what might, and as the campaign 
 was like to prove a difficult one, in which the odds 
 were mainly against him, it behooved him to take 
 
 1 88
 
 The Play, the Stake, and Players 
 
 stock of all opposition and carefully look over the 
 field. He must think, he must plan, he must leave 
 no stone unturned, lose no point in the game. 
 
 First of all he was an American, and that was 
 different from being an Englishman. Anne, al 
 though she showed little of it to a casual inspection, 
 was an American as well. That was a point gained. 
 The war, he believed, would presently be over. 
 That was another point in his favour. If she loved 
 him if she loved him! Who could doubt it after 
 last night? Indeed, God had created them for each 
 other. But did she love him enough to brave the 
 anger and defy the opposition of her grandfather? 
 Did she love him enough to marry him in de 
 spite of country, nationality, public opinion? -He 
 thought so. 
 
 She had great pride of race, and from the French 
 point of view she would be condescending ineffably 
 in marrying a mere commoner. For the matter of 
 that, he thought, in his loving humility, that no man 
 was fit to possess this priceless jewel of womanhood. 
 He placed her upon a level so high that she would 
 have been compelled to condescend to marry even a 
 king, much less a simple American gentleman. 
 Marriage with him meant for her the renunciation 
 of title, rank, station, possessions, country, family, 
 friends, traditions he piled up the catalogue of sac 
 rifices involved, in gloomy, ever-deepening humil 
 ity. Still, other women had done such things; these 
 were not insuperable obstacles. 
 
 The last difficulty was the greatest. There was 
 de Vitre a stumbling-block indeed. No man 
 
 189
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 could have done more for another than he had done 
 for the young Frenchman. He had twice saved his 
 life, he had established his honour, and, by a singu 
 larly ironic trick of fate, he feared he had been the 
 means of bestowing upon him the hand of the wom 
 an they both loved. 
 
 His own sense of the obligation he had conferred 
 upon that young Frenchman lay heavily upon his 
 soul. He could not demand from him freely or 
 even take from him by force what he would have 
 wrested cheerfully from another. A benefit con 
 ferred, however it may be considered by the recipi 
 ent as a benefit forgot, invariably establishes a sense 
 of obligation on him who confers it. Therefore, de 
 Vitre was an obstacle of the most serious moment 
 to the future progress of his happiness. How to 
 contend with him he knew not. Certainly he could 
 not make the relinquishment of the Frenchman's 
 desire for Anne the price, or the reward, of his own 
 past services. A genuine man, he could not even 
 bear to have these services mentioned; and that they 
 so persistently remained in his thoughts gave him 
 honourable uneasiness. A very exalted and chiv- 
 alric nature had Philip Grafton. He was particu 
 larly nice on the point of honour. 
 
 That was not all either, for connected with de 
 Vitre was the honour of the de Rohans. Anne, in 
 the most public manner and of her own free will, 
 had betrothed herself to the young Frenchman. 
 She had voluntarily entered upon the relationship 
 and assumed the obligation. Her sense of hon 
 our was not less keen than his. She was a wom- 
 
 190
 
 The Play, the Stake, and Players 
 
 an, he remembered, imbued with all the tradi 
 tions of that race whose proud boast it was that 
 while they had not been born to the kingly degree 
 and they would not condescend to the princely 
 rank, yet they were Rohans. Was Anne capable 
 of sacrificing her word for her love? It was 
 doubtful. 
 
 The last consideration that arose in his mind was 
 an acute conjecture that the marquis would not be 
 much better satisfied with de Vitre for a suitor for 
 his grand-daughter than he would have been with 
 Grafton. The old man probably, nay, certainly, had 
 formed his own plans, and there was without doubt 
 a third suitor of his personal choosing awaiting 
 Anne in France. This meant much. If Grafton 
 could succeed in matching the marquis' determi 
 nation against Anne's will power, between de Vitre 
 and the other, he might the more easily achieve suc 
 cess. 
 
 He realized all these things, weighed them care 
 fully, considered them exhaustively, and racked his 
 brain in an endeavour to solve the problem. His 
 resolute determination was unabated. That, his 
 love for her, and her feeling for him, were the three 
 things he counted upon to enable him to have his 
 way and win her for his own. He was no longer a 
 boy; he did not approach the problem lightly and 
 carelessly, but with a deliberate calmness which out 
 wardly belied his passion. He was a man thought 
 ful by nature and strengthened in character by the 
 responsibilities of his position as the captain of a 
 ship, and he deliberately determined to win the 
 
 191
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 person, as he already possessed the heart of the 
 French girl. 
 
 It was a sort of game he played, with her for the 
 stake. The grim old marquis, with his pride of 
 race, family, and nation, and his ardent patriotism; 
 the handsome, dashing young Canadian, the un 
 known suitor, who was sure to be a man of parts and 
 condition, and the stubborn, determined little Eng 
 lishman would all prove famous players. Which 
 would win? Well, come what might, Grafton al 
 ready had Anne's heart, de Vitre her promise, the 
 marquis her duty, and the unknown as yet, nothing. 
 The heart was the strongest card, he decided. 
 
 Of her love he felt no doubt; but love and mar 
 riage were two things that rarely went together in 
 the mind of the high nobility of France in those 
 days. But stay! Anne was different. As a child, 
 when he had known her best, she had known none 
 of these disagreeable convenances of the society of 
 her day. Had her sojourn in Canada, her entrance 
 into the gay little world of New France, effected a 
 revolution in her character? He did not believe so. 
 
 These were torturing questions all. Evening 
 found him still thinking of them and thinking alone. 
 His wants had been attended to by Josette or Jean- 
 Renaud, now allowed free access to him. His anx 
 ious inquiries for the countess had been met by the 
 statement that she was ill and could not come to see 
 him a declaration which added alarm to his long 
 ing and disappointment. His progress toward re 
 covery had been rapid, but on the second day of her 
 continued absence from his room he nearly fretted 
 
 192
 
 The Play, the Stake, and Players 
 
 himself into a fever. He found that he could be 
 more calm and cool in theory than in practice. Dr. 
 Arnoux looked very grave when he paid his after 
 noon visit that day, and, ignorant of the real situa 
 tion, spoke some blunt words to mademoiselle. 
 
 " This Englishman," he said, " is pining, worry 
 ing, fretting. Unless something can be done to re 
 store his- peace of mind I fear the consequences may 
 be serious; inflammation may set in in his feverish 
 condition, and then " 
 
 His ominous gesture frightened her greatly. 
 
 " Can't you, mademoiselle, cheer him up, dis 
 tract his mind in some way? " he asked. 
 
 Anne knew only too well what ailed her patient. 
 She had distracted him too much already, possibly; 
 yet, when she heard of the threatened danger, with 
 her usual impetuosity she threw prudence to the 
 winds, broke her promise to herself, and fled to the 
 chamber. He heard her fleet step on the stair, and 
 when she entered he faced her from the pillow with 
 such a smile of hope and joy as completely trans 
 formed him. 
 
 "Anne! Anne!" he murmured reproachfully, 
 " for two whole days I have lain here alone thinking, 
 thinking, thinking, dreaming, loving, until I won 
 der I did not go mad! And you never came! " 
 
 " I sent Josette, monsieur." 
 
 " Josette! You might have sent every woman, 
 every messenger in the world, and I would have 
 thought only of you! How could you be so cruel? 
 You love me, yet you left me! " 
 
 " How can I love the enemy of France, mon- 
 
 193
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 sieur? " she answered, gazing down upon him with 
 eyes that gave the lie to the cold words on her lips. 
 
 " I know not how you can, but you can not deny 
 that you do. Anne, sweet Anne, you are half Amer 
 ican. This land is the home of your mother. Let 
 it be the home of your heart as well! " 
 
 " And my grandfather, the marquis? He would 
 never consent." 
 
 " Faith, your own consent is all that is necessary, 
 sweetheart. If you love me enough " 
 
 " But I am betrothed to Monsieur de Vitre." 
 
 " Why did you do it at the last moment, after 
 you had recognised me, when fate happy fate 
 threw me at your feet? " 
 
 " I I " 
 
 " You do not love him, Anne, dearest? Come, 
 the truth ! The de Rohans were ever true, you told 
 me." 
 
 " Ah, monsieur, I respect and admire Monsieur 
 de Vitre. He is a brave and noble gentleman." 
 
 " Yes, but you do not love him? " 
 
 " How dare you catechize me in this manner? " 
 she cried piteously, shrinking from his persistent 
 questioning. " I will withdraw, sir. What warrant 
 have you " 
 
 But she made no motion to leave the apartment. 
 On the contrary, he saw her body sway uneasily 
 toward him. She could not control her feelings. 
 If he had not been so ill, so weak, so pathetically 
 helpless, he would have appealed less strongly to 
 her, she might have resisted better. She was angry 
 at herself for her lack of control, and bitterly morti- 
 
 194
 
 The Play, the Stake, and Players 
 
 fied. Was this man her master in truth? And he 
 wore another woman's picture! Shame on her, 
 shame! Could he compel her to break her word, 
 defy everything, and marry him against her will? 
 Ah, but was it against her will? There was the rub. 
 
 She stood helpless before him. The whole cur 
 rent of her being flowing toward him, only her stub 
 born will and pride holding her back. But the strug 
 gle could not be maintained for long. He marked 
 the rise and fall of her breast. Her ringers moved 
 restlessly, her knees trembled, her eyes swam, her 
 colour came and went. The constraint she was 
 under was terrible. 
 
 The girl loved him with all her soul. Yet she 
 struggled on; she would not yield. 'Twas an un 
 equal combat. She fought two: his will and her 
 love. The end was certain. He felt it was almost 
 cruel as he watched her and knew it would come. 
 All she needed in that moment to bring her to him 
 was time. He was wise enough not to be hasty. 
 He put equal constraint upon himself; indeed, his 
 love was no less than her own. 
 
 " I have only the warrant of my love for you to 
 plead my cause," he answered at last. 
 
 " Have you loved me all the time? " she cried, 
 coming a step nearer. 
 
 " I know not," he answered honestly before 
 her truth-compelling gaze, " but at least I have 
 loved no one else, and since the night in the tower 
 there has not been a day in which I have not thought 
 of you. But never in my wildest visions did you 
 appear so beautiful as you are to-day, Anne, sweet 
 
 195
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 Anne! Dear Little France! My heart knew you, 
 even though my false eyes told no story to my be 
 wildered mind. 'Twas God that brought us to 
 gether again. We can not be separated, my sweet, 
 my own! " 
 
 " But Monsieur de Vitre, my engagement " 
 
 " I ask you again why it was you entered upon it 
 so suddenly? " 
 
 " I saw that locket you wear over your heart, 
 Sir Philip, whose secret you guard so jealously, from 
 which you will not be parted. You did not know 
 me. You had forgotten me. There was some one 
 else," she murmured. " I can not marry the enemy 
 of my country. I should be an outcast, despised. 
 You fainted in the hall of the chateau. Monsieur 
 de Vitre was there. When I knelt beside you I 
 I looked at you, monsieur. I forgot myself a 
 little. I betrayed myself unsought unknown even. 
 Monsieur de Vitre cried out before them all that 
 I loved you. The thought stung me my pride, 
 you know. I could not bear it. There was but one 
 way. He had besought me for my hand. I dared 
 not trust myself before you unpledged. They 
 looked at me so earnestly. It was a foretaste of what 
 I should meet. I stopped every gossiping tongue, 
 stifled every suspicion by saying ' Yes ' to my brave 
 countryman. I I do not regret it." 
 
 She forced herself to lift her head and look at 
 him white-faced and trembling. His bold, burning 
 glances plunged through her defences like a sword- 
 blade. 
 
 'This from the truthful de Rohan!" he mur- 
 196
 
 The Play, the Stake, and Players 
 
 mured coldly, but with a breaking heart. " If you 
 looked at me dying then and perhaps dying now 
 after that word if you looked at me then as you 
 look at me this moment, there were no ground for 
 de Vitre's suspicion. Is this your fidelity! Go! 
 You have not you do not love me." 
 
 She buried her face in her hands beneath his 
 stern accusing gaze his reproaches seared her 
 heart. She had not told the truth to him. 
 
 " Go, mademoiselle! " he continued pitilessly, 
 ruthlessly turning the weapon he had thrust into her 
 heart. " The other night does my imagination 
 mock me, or did I dream of heaven, of your kisses? 
 Were the lips that now betray those that met my 
 own? Was it that sweet head that lay upon my 
 breast? Was it all a vision? Did I ever live for 
 an hour with you in that old dark tower by the sea? 
 Was I indeed the knight of that gentle child who 
 wrapped herself around my heart? You weep, 
 mademoiselle. Why? Happiness opens before you. 
 You are the betrothed of de Vitre " 
 
 " No more! " she cried, tearing her hands from 
 her face and springing toward him. She seized his 
 arm and unwounded shoulder with a grasp that was 
 painful in its intensity. "No more! No more! 
 You torture me beyond endurance! 'Tis no dream. 
 I love you, I adore you, my king, my king! What 
 are country, and grandfather, and friends, and all 
 the world to me beside you ! " 
 
 She bent her glorious head once more and kissed 
 him as she had kissed him in the moonlight two 
 nights before. Had he won? This time he did not 
 
 197
 
 The Ouiberon Touch 
 
 ffw 
 
 lose control of himself. She was living that mo 
 ment in the present, he could still, while sharing her 
 emotion, think of the future. He would strike at 
 once. 
 
 " But de Vitre? " he exclaimed. 
 
 She drew herself away from him slowly, rose 
 tremblingly to her feet, and looked down upon him 
 again. 
 
 ; ' You remind me," she said brokenly, " of my 
 word, my duty. I know not how it is," she contin 
 ued, " why I am so weak before you. Is it the 
 strength of your love or the strength of mine? But 
 I will be mistress of myself. I can not break my 
 word. I can not break my old grandfather's heart. 
 I can not dishonour the name of my family. I am 
 a de Rohan though but a woman. I will not " 
 
 " Hear me, Anne! " cried Grafton, stretching out 
 his hand to heaven, " before God I swear you shall ! 
 You shall break your word with de Vitre! You 
 shall put aside your country! You shall cross the 
 will of your people! You are mine by prior right. 
 I will make you do it! You shall be my wife! " 
 
 " How, monsieur, will you bring about these 
 things? " she cried boldly, every nerve in her body 
 thrilling and quivering in passionate response to the 
 imperious affection in his words. " What power 
 have you? What is it that will give you strength? " 
 
 " The power of love, Anne! " answered Philip. 
 " When two love each other as we love nothing can 
 come between them." 
 
 She looked long and earnestly at him. He 
 spoke the truth, and she knew it, yet with the stub- 
 
 198
 
 The Play, the Stake, and Players 
 
 bornness of a man and the devotion of a woman she 
 clung to her negation. Presently, as he said noth 
 ing further, she turned to leave the room. 
 
 " Wait! " he cried from where he lay exhausted 
 by his own feelings. " Before you go, promise me 
 that you will come again? That each day you will 
 let me see you at least once? " 
 
 " I promise you, Sir Philip," she answered, " but 
 I must have no more of this. Indeed, I can not 
 stand it. Tis not right, it comports not with my 
 honour. You must promise me, too. I am pledged 
 still to Monsieur de Vitre." 
 
 She was almost humble in her petition, as if to 
 say, " You have the power, you know it, oh, abuse 
 it not, if you indeed love the woman who has given 
 you her heart." Her appeal met with an immedi 
 ate and generous response from him. 
 
 " God bless you, Anne, for the saving grace of 
 that word ' still '! " he cried. " I promise you. I 
 shall ask no kiss of you, expect no caress from you, 
 beg no further word of love, until your engage 
 ment with de Vitre is broken." 
 
 " That will never be, monsieur," she said sadly, 
 yet taking heart and cherishing hope from his bold 
 assurance. " Au revoir." 
 
 With reluctant feet the girl turned and left the 
 chamber. She sank down before the prie-dieu in 
 the room which she had occupied since Grafton 
 came, and poured out her soul to the Mother of 
 Sorrows in appeals for pity and help. He loved her, 
 O Blessed Virgin, and she loved him. How mas 
 terful he was! He had sworn she would be his wife. 
 
 199
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 His wife, yet, pitying Heaven, that other woman 
 whose face he wore over his heart! She tore the 
 lace at her breast in wild and jealous pain at the 
 thought. Was it possible for a girl to be at the 
 same time so happy and miserable? 
 Poor Denis de Vitre! 
 
 200
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 ANNE DE ROHAN SAYS FAREWELL! 
 
 GRAFTON saw Anne de Rohan daily after that. 
 She kept her promise, and, touched by her depend 
 ence, he did the same. Yet not without a struggle, 
 for the effort told on each of them. She had ven 
 tured into his room timorously the next day, but as 
 he allowed his love to express itself only through 
 the medium of his eyes, which drank in her beauty 
 as the field the rain, she had become somewhat re 
 assured, and had not hesitated to come to his 
 chamber more frequently. 
 
 It was lucky for him that her relative had died 
 before he fell at her door, and it was also fortunate 
 that, unconsciously, the frank freedom of Anne's 
 American blood permitted her to do things to 
 which, as a French girl, she could never have con 
 sented. She was thoroughly French in her emo 
 tions and quite American in her instincts a delight 
 ful combination indeed. 
 
 The two found much to talk about. The his 
 tory of the years intervening between their parting 
 and meeting, which had been crowded with inci 
 dents and adventures for both of them, was gone 
 over with minute care. It seemed to Philip that 
 J 4 20 1
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 every petty or trifling incident in which she had 
 borne a part was of priceless value to him, and Anne 
 hung with equal interest and equal craving to know 
 all the life of the man she loved, upon every detail 
 of the varied experiences with which the life of a 
 sailor of that period teemed. The strange series of 
 events which had brought the two who had parted 
 in Brittany, together again in Canada, could not 
 be sufficiently dwelt upon, nor the marvellous 
 coincidence of that meeting too strongly empha 
 sized. 
 
 Anne found Philip all that she had dreamed him, 
 too. He had grown in dignity and in solid learning, 
 and she discovered the instinctive respect she had 
 felt for him as a child, and which had been the pre 
 cursor of her love for him, rested upon a sound basis 
 of ability and culture. For his part he marvelled 
 at the acuteness of her intellect, the poetic charm 
 of her fancy, and the purity of her soul, as she un 
 folded it before him by her frank yet artless conver 
 sation. 
 
 In all this they neither of them touched upon the 
 subject which was uppermost in their hearts. They 
 looked love, they thought love, they lived love, but 
 they did not speak it; yet the most casual observer 
 could have seen it in every gesture, in every intona 
 tion, in every phrase, in every glance. 
 
 Jean-Renaud and Josette, who watched over 
 their young mistress faithfully and devotedly, easily 
 detected the situation with feelings of pain and anx 
 iety. Josette, who had grown more and more the 
 confidante of her mistress, ventured to bring again 
 
 202
 
 Anne de Rohan says Farewell 
 
 and again the marquis and de Vitre to the countess' 
 attention. 
 
 De Vitre was a subject Anne consistently avoid 
 ed. Her intentions toward him were unchanged; 
 she fully expected, with the consent of the marquis, 
 to carry out the engagement which she had entered 
 upon -so impulsively and yet not without reason. 
 For the present, however, she dismissed him from 
 her consideration and gathered what enjoyment she 
 could out of the fleeting moments. She would have 
 enough of him in the future, only the day was her 
 own. 
 
 Not so with Grafton. De Vitre, after Anne, 
 completely filled his thoughts. What to do about 
 that young man he scarcely knew. His intention, 
 however, was as strong as ever. Indeed, the more 
 he saw of Anne the more intense his passion grew 
 and the more resolute his determination to break 
 the engagement with de Vitre became, but he could 
 think of no practicable plan. 
 
 The favours he had bestowed upon that young 
 man, the obligations under which he had laid him, 
 seemed to Grafton's nice sense of honour to pre 
 clude speaking to him upon the subject. Were it 
 any other man in France or Canada he would not 
 have hesitated to tell his story, announce his deter 
 mination, and win the maiden if necessary by force 
 of arms; but he could not do this with de Vitre. 
 He could exact no reward for benefits conferred. 
 He could do nothing to him at present at any rate. 
 A life saved, a character rehabilitated, stood in the 
 way. It was a perplexing problem, to which no so- 
 
 203
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 lution could be thought out, though he bent to the 
 consideration of it all the genius and intellect of 
 which he was possessed. 
 
 Meanwhile, under the skilled nursing he re 
 ceived, aided by a sound and vigorous constitution, 
 he made rapid progress toward recovery from his 
 wounds. The first time he sat up in his chamber 
 Anne happened to be with him. Jean-Renaud had 
 dressed him and assisted him to a capacious chair 
 which was placed near the window and from which 
 he had a clear view of the street. The little family, 
 by Anne's orders, had kept close at home, and the 
 tremendous events which had culminated in the 
 surrender of the town were as yet unknown to 
 them. 
 
 The rain, which had been drearily pouring down 
 for a day or two, had cleared away, and the Septem 
 ber sun was shining brilliantly outside. The day 
 was mild, the air balmy, and Philip sat at the open 
 window drinking in the freshness of the morning. 
 He looked handsomer than ever to the girl who 
 stood by his side. The unusual pallor of his illness 
 had been modified and a faint flush of colour upon 
 his pale cheek told of returning health. 
 
 There was a blowing of bugles, a rattling of 
 drums, the sound of martial music heard in the 
 street. They listened. It grew louder. Troops 
 were approaching. 
 
 " Those are not French drums," said Grafton. 
 "Hark! 'Tis an English roll! They are playing 
 The British Grenadiers! What has happened?" 
 
 He leaned forward anxiously, but Anne checked 
 204
 
 Anne de Rohan says Farewell 
 
 his motion to rise, and thrust her head out of the 
 window. 
 
 " Soldiers are approaching," she said. 
 
 " Yes," he cried. " Their uniforms? " 
 
 " They wear red coats and shining caps. They 
 are English. They are coming nearer. You can 
 see them in a moment. What can it be? " 
 
 " 'Tis a surrender! " cried Philip exultingly. 
 
 "Alas! yes, it must be so," answered the girl, 
 turning toward him. 
 
 " Forgive my inconsiderate triumph, Anne," he 
 answered softly, seizing her hand and carrying it to 
 his lips. 
 
 She covered her face with her other hand and 
 the tears trickled silently down her cheeks, while the 
 advance guard of the British Grenadiers coming to 
 take possession, marched gaily by amid the silence 
 of the people looking gloomily on. 
 
 There was a step outside on the stair. De Vitre, 
 pale and haggard, entered the room. 
 
 " Monsieur de Vitre! " cried the girl, surprised 
 and disquieted. " What means this unceremonious 
 entrance? " 
 
 " Mademoiselle Anne," answered the French 
 man, bowing profoundly, " forgive my haste, the 
 city has surrendered. The English troops are ap 
 proaching. I came to protect you, fearful lest " 
 
 " The English soldiers war not upon women, 
 Monsieur de Vitre," interrupted Grafton sharply, 
 leaning forward, his face full of colour at the pres 
 ence of his rival. " Besides, I am here." 
 
 " But you are ill, sir, and while I respect the Eng- 
 205
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 lish soldiers, there are always evil-minded persons 
 in the wake of an army, and surrender brings out all 
 the vicious elements in our own population. I love 
 Mademoiselle de Rohan, as you know. She is be 
 trothed to me. I am but this moment released by 
 the governor. Naturally I came to her." 
 
 " And you are right, Monsieur de Vitre. I 
 doubt not I shall need your protection," said Anne, 
 determined at last that all should be ended now. 
 
 " Mademoiselle, you honour me," cried the de 
 lighted Frenchman. " I hope to deserve your con 
 fidence now and always." 
 
 In spite of his jealous anguish, Philip could not 
 refuse to accord his rival a meed of praise. He was 
 a tall, handsome, gallant-looking sailor, whose every 
 movement was full of grace. There was no doubt 
 as to the depth of his affection for Anne de Rohan 
 either. A hard task indeed was before Master Philip 
 Grafton. 
 
 " Oh, Mademoiselle," continued de Vitre, step 
 ping nearer her and seizing her hand, " you made 
 me so happy by what you said in the chateau. I 
 have chafed in my restraint, wondering if it were 
 true, fearful that I have dreamed it. For what had 
 I done to deserve it? " 
 
 " Monsieur," said Anne quickly, catching sight 
 of Grafton's clinched hands and convulsed face, 
 which nothing but his own passion kept from the 
 observation of the Frenchman, " Monsieur, I seize 
 the first opportunity to say what I had scarcely time 
 to explain, or what you probably did not compre 
 hend, when I bestowed upon you my hand. I have 
 
 206
 
 Anne de Rohan says Farewell 
 
 given my promise to you, and that promise I mean 
 to keep, but, monsieur, there is another who must 
 be consulted. The Marquis de Chabot, my grand 
 father; the ultimate disposal of my hand and for 
 tune rests with him. Before the engagement is rati 
 fied or in short, monsieur, I beg you to treat me as 
 your friend, until you have gained the consent of 
 the head of my house to this marriage." 
 
 A load that had crushed Philip to the earth was 
 lifted from his heart as he heard these words. It 
 was a respite she was giving him. At least he would 
 not have the torture of the thought that the lips 
 which had melted upon his own should quiver, how 
 ever reluctantly, under the touch of de Vitre not 
 yet. 
 
 Time, only give him time. He would find a way 
 to take her, even if he had to snatch her from the 
 very heart of France, from the steps of the throne, 
 even. He breathed again as he listened. 
 
 " At least," murmured de Vitre, who was visibly 
 disconcerted by this deliberate statement from the 
 woman he loved, " at least say that you love me." 
 
 Philip's heart stood still for a moment; but the 
 girl was equal to the situation. 
 
 " Monsieur," she answered, " I did not say that 
 in the hall, I can not say it now. I respect you, I 
 esteem you." 
 
 " Is there any other one? " he cried jealously. 
 
 " Monsieur de Vitre, there is no gentleman of 
 France who stands higher in my regard than you 
 do; let that suffice you, sir." 
 
 Whether he noticed the equivocation or not she 
 207
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 could not tell, for she gave him no opportunity to in 
 terrogate her further. " You must press me no 
 more, monsieur," she added, " I have said enough." 
 
 " Good God, de Vitre! " exclaimed Grafton im 
 patiently at this moment. " Aren't you satisfied 
 with what you have, man? Half of New France is 
 filled with envy and would fain stand in your shoes, 
 I warrant you." 
 
 " Monsieur Grafton," cried de Vitre haughtily 
 at this unheard-of interruption, " by what right do 
 you presume but stop I forgot myself. You 
 have every right. Say what you will, captain. I 
 can not forget that I owe you life, liberty, and love! 
 I can never repay you, but upon the honour of a 
 Canadian, a Frenchman, you can ask nothing of me 
 that I will not grant." 
 
 The truth that was behind the grateful words 
 sealed Grafton's lips. For the moment he almost 
 wished he had not interfered to save his rival's life 
 but he instantly put the thought away as unworthy 
 a gentleman. 
 
 " 'Tis nothing," he murmured, " you would 
 have done as much for me, for any man. You put 
 too much value " 
 
 " Mademoiselle Anne," cried Josette, entering 
 the room in great agitation, " a messenger from 
 Monsieur de Ramesay! " 
 
 Anne took the paper and tore it open. 
 
 " A summons, gentlemen! " she said, " the gov 
 ernor requires me and my servants to attend him 
 at once at the Chateau St. Louis. He thinks we 
 will be safer with him. He knows of your pres- 
 
 208
 
 Anne de Rohan says Farewell 
 
 ence, Monsieur de Vitre, for he says you will es 
 cort us." 
 
 Anne was glad to have the scene over. The 
 emotions of the last few moments had been almost 
 too much for her. As Josette brought her hat and 
 wrap she turned to Grafton, extending her hand. 
 
 " Farewell, monsieur! " she said. 
 
 " 'Tis not good-bye, Mademoiselle de Rohan! " 
 cried Grafton, seizing her hand, " I shall see you 
 again! " 
 
 " I shall always be glad to see you, monsieur," 
 she answered simply, biting her lip to control its 
 quivering. " Come, Monsieur de Vitre." 
 
 " My friend," said de Vitre, ere he followed her 
 from the room, " have no anxiety. I will see that 
 some one comes to you at once." 
 
 " But Mademoiselle de Rohan? " cried Grafton. 
 
 " I will take care of her, monsieur," returned 
 the Frenchman meaningly. " Remember, 'tis my 
 right." 
 
 In one sense de Vitre was as good as his word, 
 for the room was soon rilled with English officers, 
 who welcomed Grafton as one risen from the dead. 
 They had given him over for lost at last, not having 
 heard from him, and he had the pleasure later on 
 of reading his own obituary in the general orders 
 commending his conduct on the debarkation of the 
 troops, which had been published by the vice-ad 
 miral. 
 
 Several days passed without his seeing or hear 
 ing anything from Anne de Rohan in spite of his 
 inquiries, days filled with the most consuming anx- 
 
 209
 
 The )uiberon Touch 
 
 iety. Yet he had endeavoured to be patient, having 
 set himself resolutely to get well, and had made 
 much progress in recovering from his wounds. He 
 realized that he could not afford to lose any time in 
 the fight for Anne. On the fourth day a note was 
 put into his hand: 
 
 " Philip, my Philip," it read, " my knight, my 
 love, I am calling you so for the last time. When 
 you read this I shall be far down the river on board 
 a ship for France. With the first of the refugees I 
 was permitted to go, and forgive me, my own I 
 could not trust myself to see you again. I will not 
 deny indeed, how can I? that I have loved you 
 with a love that more than matches your own. Yet 
 you wear one woman's picture over your heart, dear, 
 and I humiliate myself by sending you this counter 
 feit presentment of another. Alas, 'tis all of me that 
 you may ever have! Look upon it, monsieur, as 
 you have loved me in spite of the other and then 
 break it, and forget me. Farewell! 
 
 " ANNE." 
 
 In a little diamond-studded, heart-shaped locket, 
 which he had often seen on her breast, there was a 
 cunning miniature of the woman he loved. He 
 pressed it to his lips and then slipped it and the let 
 ter i,n a pocket near his heart. Then, with the assist 
 ance of the English sailor who had been detailed to 
 wait upon him, he made ready to leave. 
 
 He looked long and earnestly about the room, 
 hallowed by their meeting, filled with blessed asso- 
 
 210
 
 Anne de Rohan says Farewell 
 
 ciations of her presence, ere he crossed the thresh 
 old, for he did not intend to return. 
 
 He was informed by General Townshend, then 
 in the patched-up Chateau St. Louis, when he re 
 ported to him, that three days since, the first ship 
 load of fugitives who had cho*sen to leave Canada 
 rather than remain under the rule of the English, 
 had departed. Among them was Mademoiselle de 
 Rohan and her servants. 
 
 " Who commanded the cartel? " asked Graf ton. 
 
 " A Canadian officer, who was to be exchanged 
 in Europe." 
 
 " And his name, General Townshend? " 
 
 " Lieutenant Denis de Vitre, he is called, I be 
 lieve," answered the young English general, looking 
 curiously at him. " By the way, I have a paper for 
 you. You are gazetted to the command of the frig 
 ate Maidstone, and you are to carry despatches to 
 Sir Edward Hawke. Vice-Admiral Saunders also 
 recommends you to be given command of the first 
 ship of the line vacant, for your distinguished serv 
 ices here. I congratulate you, captain," added the 
 general, handing him the paper. 
 
 " When does' the Maidstone sail, sir? " 
 
 " As soon as you are able to take her, I believe. 
 She has been provisioned for her voyage and lies in 
 the basin. She will be the first of the English ships 
 to get to sea. Another fast frigate will be sent to 
 Europe with despatches, but Admiral Saunders 
 thinks it is of the utmost importance that Hawke, 
 who is blockading Brest, as you know, should be 
 informed of the fall of Quebec; and you are to tell 
 
 211
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 him that Saunders will join him at the earliest pos 
 sible date, and with the combined fleets they may 
 have a chance to crush the French under Conflans. 
 I suppose you will start in a day or two? " 
 
 " I start now, at once, general." 
 
 " But your wound? " 
 
 " 'Tis nothing any longer. A breath of sea air 
 will set me up again. By the way, where was the 
 cartel, commanded by Monsieur de Vitre, bound 
 for? " 
 
 " For Brest. He is to be exchanged there and 
 the refugees landed." 
 
 " Ah! And his ship, general? Was it a speedy 
 one, do you know? " 
 
 " 'Tis said he selected the speediest Frenchman 
 in the basin." 
 
 " And the Maidstone do you know anything 
 of her qualities? " 
 
 ' The vice-admiral told me that he had chosen 
 the fastest ship in the fleet for you, so you may 
 have a chance of overhauling her, if you care to, al 
 though they have three days' start. Well, I wish you 
 bon voyage, captain. You will, of course, report to 
 Vice-Admiral Saunders before you leave. Good 
 bye." 
 
 " I wonder what he's up to? " thought the gen 
 eral, as Grafton saluted, turned on his heel, and hur 
 riedly left the room. 
 
 212
 
 BOOK V 
 
 WHAT HAPPENED IN THE TOWER 
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 WET SHEETS AND FLOWING SEAS 
 
 A GRAY sky and an angry sea. 
 
 A solitary ship in the waste of waters, stagger 
 ing along in a roaring gale from the west; every rag 
 of canvas that could safely be spread ay, and even 
 more urging her forward before the fierce wind; 
 driving her madly through the tossing waves. A 
 lonely, restless man upon her deck passing the long 
 weary hours on the forecastle looking eagerly ahead, 
 ever ahead; turning like a devotee his face to the 
 east, pointing his vessel toward the rising sun; 
 though driven aside by the happenings of the sea, 
 returning to his goal with the accuracy and the 
 persistency with which the polar needle swings to 
 ward its star. 
 
 A sailor watching with eagle glance every 
 weather indication, crowding the canvas on the ship 
 until the masts groaned and shivered like mountain- 
 prisoned Titans under the tremendous pressure; 
 the iron-taut braces and stays, the nerves of the ship, 
 trembled like smitten harp-strings under the mighty 
 pull of the mad tempests of bleak November. Neg- 
 
 213
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 lecting no seamanlike precaution, losing no point of 
 advantage, the little ship was driven on, for if skill 
 were at the helm love fleeted before the prow. 
 
 Such the picture! And its complement? 
 
 Some two hundred leagues ahead of the frigate, 
 with the man on the knightheads peering fruitless 
 ly across the dark expanse of tossing water, an 
 other vessel, driven in like manner, steadily pursued 
 its course for the same destination. As if conscious 
 of the unwearying, indomitable pursuit, she, too, 
 made her way onward madly, recklessly, crossing 
 the great deep. 
 
 Skill and seamanship of the highest type were 
 at her service as well. A willingness to drive was 
 there in almost as great a measure, for this ship was 
 homeward bound. When she dropped anchor in 
 the waters of France, those aboard of her, now held 
 prisoner by the heavy-linked chain of honour, would 
 be free. 
 
 And a woman hung over the quarter of the sec 
 ond ship listening indifferently to words of sweet 
 ness, responding not at all to passionate pleadings 
 that fell upon her ear; a woman, turning her eyes 
 back toward the west, gazing upon the setting sun 
 that had carried down to darkness with it her maid 
 en heart; a woman marking the long white wake 
 of the ship, her sadness growing greater, her regret 
 deepening, deepening with each swiftly passing 
 league. 
 
 And yet the. lonely woman on the quarter-deck 
 with the infrequent sunlight losing itself in her mid 
 night hair, with her violet eyes staring backward, 
 
 214
 
 Wet Sheets and Flowing Seas 
 
 backward, backward, from out a pale face whose 
 whiteness matched the foaming wave, was drawing 
 on as surely and irresistibly as the loadstone the 
 needle, the eager man upon the other ship. 
 
 " I think there can be no doubt of our observa 
 tions, captain. You see we have had a double check 
 on them by working them out independently." 
 
 " Yes, we have made no mistake, I am sure, 
 and yet there are always happenings for which al 
 lowance must be made; things that no mind, no in 
 strument, can check on the sea." 
 
 " True, sir; but it has all been plain sailing so far, 
 and the way you have watched and handled this 
 frigate has been a marvel to me, and I have sailed in 
 many ships." 
 
 " Thank you. But I have an object in it all." 
 
 " Of course, the despatches to Sir Edward 
 Hawke " 
 
 " Yes, that of course. Do you know, Hatfield, 
 I haven't told you before, and it isn't a thing that a 
 man likes to talk about, any way, but I've got to 
 tell you now, I suppose. Well, the fact is that car 
 tel, you know, the one I've been trying to overhaul? 
 There is a lady a Frenchwoman on board of her 
 and ryou see I met her five years ago when a 
 prisoner in France and again in Canada and 
 
 " I see, sir," answered Hatfield wisely, filling in 
 his superior's lame and halting conclusion by the 
 aid of his own imagination, " and you would see her 
 again? I quite understand." 
 
 Grafton, whose face had flushed deeply while 
 215
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 he made his executive officer the recipient of these 
 strange confidences, was greatly relieved at his ready 
 comprehension. 
 
 " Yes, that's it," he answered, grateful for his 
 lieutenant's tact. " And I mean to see her once 
 more, by Heaven, if I have to go into Brest to 
 doit!" 
 
 " All right, sir, I'm with you in anything. And 
 if I know our bullies forward, they'd like nothing 
 better than a dash at a Frenchman, for a ship, a 
 woman, or a " 
 
 " That will do, Hatfield," remarked Grafton, 
 with a slight touch of sternness, " I hardly contem 
 plate calling upon the men for any cutting-out ex 
 pedition in this emergency, though I may want your 
 help, my friend," he added, softening the severity 
 of his rebuke by his last words. 
 
 The friendship begun years since between the 
 two men had ripened into intimacy although Hat- 
 field was much the junior in years as well as rank to 
 Grafton and the footing between them when not 
 on formal service was one of hearty affection and 
 familiar intimacy. This was an unusual relationship 
 between the captain and first lieutenant of a frigate, 
 yet the younger man never presumed upon it, and 
 the older man never condescended on account of it, 
 and no mischance had arisen. 
 
 " And you shall have it, Captain Grafton," re 
 plied the younger man impulsively. " Might I, 
 without presumption, ask the lady's name? " 
 
 " De Rohan," answered Grafton. " The Coun 
 tess de Rohan, the grand-daughter of the Marquis 
 
 216
 
 Wet Sheets and Flowing Seas 
 
 de Chabot-Rohan, in whose castle I was confined 
 five years ago. I met her then as a little girl, and as 
 luck, nay, Providence, would have it, I fell into her 
 hands again in Canada, when I was wounded and 
 captured, you know." 
 
 " It seems to me you have a happy knack of 
 falling into the hands of pretty ladies as a prisoner." 
 
 "Yes, haven't I?" assented Grafton, smiling 
 faintly. 
 
 " I wish some such luck would come to me, 
 then." 
 
 " Don't wish it at all, my young friend, 'tis a dan 
 gerous situation to be in." 
 
 " Have you found it so? " 
 
 " Yes, I'm a prisoner forever." 
 
 " Gad, there are worse fates! But are you en 
 gaged to the lady, captain? Don't answer me if I 
 ask an impertinent question, but if I am to help 
 you, I should like to know something." 
 
 " Well, er no, not exactly, in fact, not at all. 
 She is betrothed to Lieutenant Denis de Vitre, of 
 the French navy." 
 
 "Oh, to him!" exclaimed Hatfield, who was 
 familiar with the public history of de Vitre's exploits 
 in Canada. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And is she er in love with him? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Well, is she ah " 
 
 " Yes, with me." 
 
 " And can't you get her to break her engage 
 ment? " 
 
 J 5 217
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 " I don't know, I think not. That isn't all. Of 
 course the old marquis, her grandfather and only 
 relative, is to be considered, and he will probably 
 have chosen some one in France for her." 
 
 " That is a complication, indeed." 
 
 " Yes, isn't it? But it seems to me that the 
 more people there are in the game the better chance 
 for me. You see, so long as she ah loves me, I 
 seem to hold the winning card." 
 
 " Of course, but what do you propose to do? " 
 
 " I'm not sure. I shall deliver the despatches to 
 Sir Edward, and then I think I shall ask permission 
 to go ashore. You see, I know the lay of the land 
 thoroughly, and I am familiar with the old castle 
 where she lives, the Chateau de Josselin, 'tis called. 
 It lies on the shore off the mouth of the harbour 
 entrance. There is a way into it that no one knows 
 but the lady, and I think " 
 
 " Why do you hesitate? " 
 
 " Well, I saved the man's life, and his honour 
 too de Vitre's, you know and I hardly like to 
 steal his betrothed bride; you see, he could not very 
 well resent it if I did er gratitude. I feel the ob 
 ligation I have conferred " 
 
 " Nonsense! Forgive my frankness, you've 
 done enough for him already. You gave him life, 
 honour, let him be satisfied with that. Take love 
 for yourself, captain." 
 
 " I think I will, Hatfield, and so " 
 
 " In short, you mean to carry her off, do you? " 
 
 " Yes, that's about it." 
 
 " Cutting out a woman, eh, rather than a ship? " 
 218
 
 Wet Sheets and Flowing Seas 
 
 " Yes. Now that you know the situation, what 
 say you? Will you join me? " 
 
 " With all my heart! " cried the younger man, 
 his eyes dancing with excitement, " and I should 
 like nothing better. Gad, 'twould be an exploit 
 indeed if we could succeed! They'd talk about it 
 forever in the clubs." 
 
 " Thank you. I knew you would, and we will 
 succeed or die, my friend," responded Grafton im 
 petuously, without considering that the prospect of 
 death could not be so inviting to his friend as it was 
 to himself in case of failure. But Hatfield was game. 
 
 " Well," he said, stretching out his hand, " here's 
 my hand on it. Success to our enterprise! " 
 
 " That's good," replied Grafton, immensely re 
 lieved. " I was sure I could depend upon you." 
 
 " Now tell me how you propose to get into the 
 castle if she's there." 
 
 " I think she will surely be there. De Vitre is 
 a thorough sailor. I'll say that for him, and a thor 
 ough gentleman, too. He picked out the fastest 
 ship in the basin. You know the French build bet 
 ter ships than we do. He has probably driven her 
 as hard as we have and he had several days' start of 
 us. His orders take him to Brest, and 'tis most nat 
 ural that he should take her to the Chateau de Jos- 
 selin, which is her grandfather's castle. There is an 
 oriel window in the keep tower overlooking the sea, 
 and there is a practicable way of gaining the bal 
 cony surrounding it." 
 
 " Land ho! " came floating down from over their 
 heads. 
 
 219
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 " Where away? " cried Hatfield promptly. 
 
 " Broad off the weather bow, sir." 
 
 " That ought to be Ushant," remarked Grafton. 
 
 " Yes, and just where we thought it would be, 
 off yonder." 
 
 " Hold on as we are, Hatfield. We will soon 
 raise it from the deck. We must be making all of 
 ten knots in this ripping breeze. Do you think she 
 could stand the mainto'gallant sail? " 
 
 " Hardly," answered Hatfield, throwing a glance 
 aloft. " Well, perhaps she might, but what would 
 be the use of it, captain? We'll be there quickly 
 enough, anyway." 
 
 " Perhaps you are right. But we ought to have 
 seen some of Sir Edward's fleet before this. I don't 
 understand it. Aloft, there! " 
 
 " Sir? " 
 
 " Do you see any sails to leeward? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Or anywhere? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Keep a bright lookout for them." 
 
 "Ay, ay, sir." 
 
 " He'd hardly be cruising so far offshore as this, 
 would he? " said Hatfield. " You know when he 
 blockades he does it closely. They say he's been 
 holding Brest so tightly closed all summer that a 
 bird could not fly in or out of the harbour without 
 being noticed." 
 
 " Yes, that's his way. I don't know whether he 
 will be there or not now, though, since it's so late 
 in the season. But let me tell you, Hatfield, he's 
 
 220
 
 Wet Sheets and Flowing Seas 
 
 done an unprecedented thing in sealing up the 
 Brest fleet so long. I think it was old Cloudesly 
 Shovel who said that a man was a fool and ought to 
 be broke if he kept his ships out in the Bay of Bis 
 cay after September, and here it is the middle of 
 November, and that war brig we spoke last week 
 said that he was still there when she left, and look 
 ing as if he were going to stay there all winter, 
 too." 
 
 " Yes, that's like him." 
 
 " Like him! I should say so; I was a reefer on 
 the Devonshire when he knocked L'Etenduere's 
 squadron into a cocked hat, and I've cruised with 
 him since; he was an old friend of my father's be 
 fore he died, used to stop at our house when he 
 came to Boston, while he was on the West India sta 
 tion. In fact, I began my sea service with him. I 
 never saw such a man. He's as swift as a frigate 
 bird, and when he strikes he hits like a storm. He 
 never lets go either, and such a fighter! He's well 
 named Hawke, I think! " 
 
 " Ay, but I very much doubt our running across 
 him this morning," exclaimed Hatfield. " We 
 should have seen a frigate surely by this time if he 
 were there. You see, this westerly gale has been 
 blowing for three days, or maybe longer, and he'll 
 find it difficult to keep his position with such a heavy 
 fleet on a lee-shore. Besides, the wind keeps the 
 French tight in the harbour. He may have run 
 over to Plymouth, or Torbay, ready to dash out 
 again when the wind shifts." 
 
 " And perhaps give the French a chance to slip 
 221
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 out, too. I'll wager a pound to a penny he's been 
 praying they would try it all summer long." 
 
 The frigate, on the quarter-deck of which the 
 two men had been speaking, had been moving rap 
 idly through the water and they were much nearer 
 the coast now. Indeed, the blink of the land the 
 dim blue haze upon the horizon which tells of voy 
 ages ended and havens near, and sometimes of 
 wreck and disaster, when the storm gods are out 
 could be seen now from the deck, and the stern 
 cliffs of Ushant were rising higher with every pass 
 ing moment. 
 
 Save for the land before and to the north of them 
 the horizon was clear. There was not a single ship 
 in sight. It was evident that Sir Edward and his 
 blockading fleet had gone away. 
 
 " What'll you do now? " asked Hatfield. 
 
 " Well, we'll run in a little farther, I think," con 
 tinued Grafton, " we can at least see if the French 
 are still in port. Perhaps we can find out what they 
 are about to do. Then we'll bear up for Torbay, 
 try to overhaul the fleet, and deliver these de 
 spatches and the news." 
 
 " And Mademoiselle de Rohan? " 
 
 " As to her, later, I am afraid." 
 
 " You won't try for it now, then? " 
 
 " I think not, I must deliver these despatches 
 first of all." 
 
 " You have not given up the idea, though? " 
 
 " I never give up anything, Hatfield," answered 
 Grafton resolutely, " and I'd as soon give up life as 
 Anne de Rohan." 
 
 222
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE BOAT IN THE PASS 
 
 IT was evening. The Maidstone was beating to 
 and fro off the mouth of the harbour of Brest. The 
 wind was still blowing hard on shore and the French 
 ships were securely bottled up. They could not 
 beat out of the narrow channel. At least it would 
 be a dangerous undertaking and the game would 
 be scarcely worth the candle. Therefore the Maid- 
 stone, although her approach had been noticed long 
 since, had been permitted to come as close as she 
 dared unhindered. 
 
 The position of the English frigate was some 
 what precarious also. On a lee-shore in a half a 
 gale of wind, in unfrequented and most dangerous 
 waters, only consummate seamanship and unremit 
 ting vigilance could save her from disaster. It was 
 there, not only in Grafton himself, but in his dash 
 ing young subordinate as well. The two, by care 
 fully watching the ship, managed to keep their dis 
 tance safely from the reefs under their lee. 
 
 From the foretop-mast cross-trees by the aid of 
 a good glass Grafton had discovered unmistakable 
 signs of preparation in the French fleet still wind- 
 bound in the harbour. Many boats were passing 
 
 223
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 between the ships and the shore, troops were being 
 embarked, and provisions and supplies taken on 
 board the huge line-of-battle ships and the frigates. 
 It was quite evident that a movement of some sort 
 was in contemplation; and it was more than prob 
 able that as soon as the wind served, taking advan 
 tage of the absence of the blockaders, the French 
 would put to sea. 
 
 That was news of the highest importance. If 
 they could learn the destination of the fleet there 
 would be nothing left to be desired except an oppor 
 tunity of meeting them; an opportunity Hawke 
 would make if he were given the vestige of a 
 chance. 
 
 " Hatfield," said Grafton, as he came down 
 from the cross-trees for the last time, it being too 
 dark to see farther, " I have changed my mind. I 
 am going ashore to see if I can not find out some 
 thing about the plans of the French fleet." 
 " And you want me to go with you? " 
 " No, that can not be. You must look after the 
 ship. I will take the dinghy and one man, old Jabez 
 Slocum. Now, mark me. My plan is to land at 
 a little cove I know of under the lee of the Chateau 
 de Josselin, about which I told you. I shall effect 
 an entrance to the castle immediately, and see if 
 there is anything to be learned there. If not, I will 
 take Jabez and we will sail boldly into the harbour 
 and find out what we can." 
 
 " And you will see Mademoiselle de Rohan? " 
 
 " Perhaps. I hope so, though that is not my 
 
 main purpose. At least I would go even if I knew 
 
 224
 
 The Boat in the Pass 
 
 she were not there. Now, if I am not back by eight 
 bells, midnight, you will brace up and make the 
 best of your way to Torbay and tell Sir Edward 
 what we have learned." 
 
 " Yes, but you will hardly have time to get 
 there and back by midnight, Captain Grafton. 
 Don't you think it would be better to make it, say, 
 eight bells in the midwatch, or four o'clock in the 
 morning? I'd hate mightily to run away and leave 
 you." 
 
 " Very well," answered Grafton, " that will give 
 me more time, and perhaps it would be better not 
 to leave without exhausting every possible oppor 
 tunity of getting informatioii as to the destination 
 of the French fleet, for there is no doubt in my 
 mind that they intend to move." 
 
 " Nor in mine." 
 
 " Very well, then, we'll make it eight bells in the 
 midwatch." 
 
 " And if you are not back then, I'm to 
 make the best of my way to Torbay, or Plymouth, 
 or wherever I can find Sir Edward, deliver the 
 despatches, and tell what we have seen? " 
 
 " That's it. Now, I need not tell you to watch 
 the ship carefully on this hard lee-shore, and when 
 you start for Hawke, if I am not here, drive her for 
 all she has in her." 
 
 " I will do both, Captain Grafton." 
 
 " Of course. And if the wind should change 
 and the French should send out a liner or a couple 
 of frigates after you, you are on no account to wait 
 for me or anybody. The information we have 
 
 225
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 gained is of much more importance than a half 
 dozen captured frigates. Remember that run 
 ning, not fighting, is your role. Don't hesitate on 
 my account. Don't be captured, and don't be 
 wrecked." 
 
 " Very good," answered Hatfield, " I shall carry 
 out your instructions to the letter. But I wish I 
 could go with you." 
 
 " I wish so, too, but you can't. One of us must 
 stay by the ship. Remember that the fate of Eng 
 land is resting on your shoulders," continued the 
 older man gravely, " for 'tis perfectly well known 
 if the French get away from Brest successfully, and 
 are not beaten elsewhere, they have an army all 
 ready for a descent upon Ireland, or perhaps Eng 
 land herself." 
 
 " I shall remember it," answered Hatfield sol 
 emnly. 
 
 " That's well. Now, heave to and have the 
 dinghy dropped overboard. See that the mast is 
 stepped and the sail is close reefed; put a compass, 
 a beaker of water, a couple of muskets, and a bag of 
 bread in her; stow away forward a coil of signal 
 halliards and a stout rope with a grapnel bent on 
 the end of it about thirty fathoms of each, I think 
 and send old Jabez to me in my cabin." 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir," replied Hatfield, calling the hands 
 to the braces as Grafton turned to the companion- 
 way and went below, whither he was followed 
 shortly by the old sailor he had designated, with 
 whom he spent a few moments in busy preparation. 
 Presently the ship was hove to and the dinghy 
 
 226
 
 The Boat in the Pass 
 
 dropped alongside. Grafton and Slocum came on 
 deck. Grafton wore his uniform and both men 
 were fully armed with sword, or cutlass, and pis 
 tols. 
 
 " You are surely not going in your uniform? " 
 queried Hatfield. 
 
 " Yes, why not? I've no mind to hang as a spy, 
 and if I am captured in this uniform I'm a prisoner 
 of war only. Remember my instructions." 
 
 " I shall not forget them." 
 
 " Good-bye." 
 
 " Good-bye, and God bless you. I shall be in 
 a fever of anxiety until you return," exclaimed the 
 lieutenant as they parted. 
 
 Waving his hand Grafton stepped to the gang 
 way and dropped easily down the battens into the 
 boat, whither Slocum had preceded him. A vigor 
 ous shove sent them clear of the frigate; a bit of 
 close-reefed sail was hoisted on the dinghy and she 
 gathered way toward the distant shore. 
 
 It was a wild night. The wind came in fierce 
 squalls and gusts, still blowing directly on land. 
 The sea was very rough, and they had felt it severe 
 ly on the deck of the large ship, but in the little 
 boat the pitching was simply tremendous. No bet 
 ter seamen, however, ever lived than the two who 
 handled her. Old Jabez had been a Gloucester 
 fisherman in his young days before he took to 
 man-o'-war cruising, and he was actually more at 
 home in a small boat than in a great ship. He 
 steered the shallop and watched her going, meeting 
 every wave or squall with a nice dexterity that filled 
 
 227
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 Grafton with admiration, even though the officer 
 was engrossed in thinking over and planning for 
 his night adventure. 
 
 After two hours of hard running, having at last 
 come well within the harbour mouth and reached 
 a point opposite the old chateau, they bore up and 
 began ratching in toward the shore. It seemed to 
 the old sailor at the helm, after they had made sev 
 eral short tacks, that they were getting perilously 
 near the breakers. As he peered ahead he thought 
 he could see the white caps, and he believed, as 
 he turned his ear up to windward, that he could 
 hear the roar of the mighty waves. One more 
 tack and they would certainly be in the midst of 
 them. 
 
 Grafton had ordered him to throw the dinghy 
 up into the wind and check her way while he in 
 vestigated the situation. He had gone forward and 
 was kneeling down by the mast peering ahead 
 trying to get his bearings. Finally, having satis 
 fied himself as well as he could in the darkness, he 
 called out a command to the sailor at the tiller. 
 Although it looked like certain destruction, old 
 Jabez was too thorough a seaman to hesitate to 
 obey, and when Grafton directed him to put the 
 helm over he let her go off, slipped out the sheet, 
 and in a few seconds they gathered way and were 
 rushing straight for the breakers. 
 
 They could now dimly make out the black 
 mass of the cliffs before them. In the tower of the 
 chateau which rose above them were two lights. 
 Grafton sought them out from other lights in other 
 
 228
 
 The Boat in the Pass 
 
 windows in the castle. He was sure of the tower, 
 for he thought he recognised its conical top; 
 though the darkness was so deep, there were signs 
 of a break in the clouds in fact, they had broken 
 over the tower. Was that a star above it to lead 
 him on? 
 
 One light Graf ton surmised came from the oriel 
 window in the tower, the other from the window 
 of the room adjacent to it. By what happy for 
 tune did they chance to be lighted that night? If 
 he were right in his opinion he knew his course to 
 the mouth of the passage to the little bay. Once 
 in the channel leading to it, he would have to trust 
 to instinct to feel his way through. 
 
 If he were wrong and these were lights from 
 other portions of the castle well, God help them! 
 He had studied the locality carefully and his re 
 tentive mind had preserved a vivid and, as he 
 trusted, an accurate picture of it during all these 
 years. It was useful knowledge and he had treas 
 ured it. In daylight he could have made the diffi 
 cult pass with ease, and if the lights there were 
 where he thought them, he felt that he could find it 
 even in the darkness and storm. 
 
 " Mind your steering, now, Slocum! " he cried. 
 " Keep your weather eye lifting and obey my orders 
 exactly! Our lives depend on it. Starboard a lit 
 tle! So! I think we can win through, but it's 
 touch and go. Steady! Do you see those two 
 lights? " 
 
 " I sees 'em, sir." 
 
 " Keep them in range until I say further. 
 229
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 Steady, now! Nothing off, for God's sake, man! 
 Hold her up to it!" 
 
 The boat steered with an uneasy helm. She 
 had a tendency to fall off, to go to leeward, that 
 is; but old Jabez set his teeth hard, contracted his 
 brows, and, peering steadily out at the lights high 
 above and far ahead of them, kept her on her 
 course. 
 
 They were nearing the shore rapidly now; it 
 looked awfully close. The cliffs loomed up in 
 front of them grim and terrible. There was no 
 entrance through them, no rift even, no way that 
 he could see. Their course seemed madness. An 
 other moment and they would be beaten to pieces. 
 But the business of the old sailor was to obey or 
 ders and steer the boat. He put everything, else 
 out of his heart and watched and listened, all his 
 skill and training and discipline at his own com 
 mand, and at his captain's service. 
 
 "Well done!" Grafton called back to him. 
 "Now let her go off a little. Easy, now! Very 
 well, dyce! Port, once more. So! Port, port 
 again! " * 
 
 " Port it is, sir! " cried Jabez, as the boat's 
 head fell off to starboard in obedience to the com 
 mand. 
 
 Then, in compliance with the rapid and chang 
 ing directions of Grafton, he luffed up to port and 
 
 * He probably said "Larboard" instead of " Port," but for 
 euphony, and a better understanding- on the readers part, I have 
 ventured to use the modern equivalent of the old phrase. 
 
 230
 
 The Boat in the Pass 
 
 then again swung to starboard; twisting about, in 
 obedience to Grafton's instinctive conning, through 
 the narrow pass through the reefs. 
 
 They were right in the breakers now. The 
 waves were hissing, boiling, and roaring around 
 them on every side. The sea was white with the 
 surf. The old man thought his last hour had come 
 in that riven sea; the rapid succession of com 
 mands from the captain, however, left him no time 
 for reflection; the boat whirled about, darted back 
 and forth, swung from side to side like a mad-wom 
 an, a Bacchante, under their skilful handling. She 
 seemed doomed a dozen times, and that she was not 
 shattered was wonderful. Suddenly, right in front 
 of them loomed a black mass of rock. 
 
 " Luff! " roared Grafton. " Luff her hard! " 
 
 The little boat spun around once more like a 
 dancing girl, her starboard side just scraping a 
 jagged reef. The sail shivered and slatted as she 
 came leaping up into the wind, and then bore away 
 on the other tack. 
 
 " That was a close shave," screamed Grafton, 
 " but we're all right yet. Give her a good full now. 
 God! But it's dark! We've lost the lights, but I 
 think we can feel our way. Hard over! " he 
 shrieked, as another rock rose up in front of 
 them. 
 
 As they cleared the rock, they suddenly whirled 
 about, swept through a narrow opening, and found 
 themselves in smooth water. The cliffs rose high 
 above them on every side. The wind, though they 
 could still hear it roaring faintly, seemed to die 
 
 231
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 away suddenly. The change from the wild clamour 
 of the pass to the silence and stillness in the bay 
 was startling. The dinghy drifted in for a few mo 
 ments and then slowly came to a standstill, the 
 water lipping along her keel. The men sat quiet, 
 but with beating hearts and panting breaths from 
 their labour and excitement, until they had recov 
 ered themselves in a measure. Far above them 
 towered the massive walls of the chateau. 
 
 " We are in," said Grafton at last, a note of tri 
 umph and relief thrilling through his voice. 
 
 He clambered aft and grasped the hand of the 
 old man. 
 
 " By Heaven, Jabez, I never saw such steering! 
 We were gone a dozen times but for you! " 
 
 " 'Twant my steerin', yer Honour, s'much as 
 'twas your pilotin' got us in," remarked the old 
 sailor, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his 
 other hand. " 'Twas a close shave all the way 
 through. Wot next, sir? " 
 
 " Out with the oars, now, and let us row to the 
 shore," he said, taking the tiller while Jabez shipped 
 the oars. " Gently, man! " he added, as the boat 
 surged rapidly forward under the old sailor's pow 
 erful strokes. 
 
 Presently her prow touched a little stretch of 
 beach a few feet wide, which Philip remembered to 
 have seen right at the foot of the place where he de 
 termined to make the attempt to descend the wall of 
 the chateau. 
 
 " Now, Slocum," he said, " pass me that coil v of 
 signal halliards." 
 
 232
 
 The Boat in the Pass 
 
 When the mass of light but strong line was 
 handed him he slipped the coil around his neck. 
 
 " Ef I motight make so bold, yer Honour, wot 
 are ye goin' to do? " asked the sailor. 
 
 " I am going to ascend the wall of the castle 
 yonder." 
 
 " Good Lord! " ejaculated the old man, " it can't 
 be done. Why, 'tis a regular pressipyce! I c'n 
 shin up any r'yal mast that ever was set, but that 
 'ere " 
 
 " That'll do, Jabez. I've been here before and 
 I know it's possible to scale the wall. It has been 
 done before by a lover." 
 
 " 'Taint fer the likes o' me to speak to you," 
 said the old seaman; " but lovers allus was fools, 
 they say, w'ich I ain't never been one, an' mebbe 
 Providence watches over 'em special like, but as fer 
 sailors " 
 
 " I am a lover, too, Jabez, if it comes to that. 
 'Tis not only for England that I go into that tower. 
 Now, we've talked enough. I am going to climb 
 to that window from which the light is coming. 
 D'ye see it? The one with the balcony. Then I 
 am going to drop the end of this piece of signal 
 halliards down to you. I want you to bend on the 
 end of that coil of rope in the bow to it. Be sure 
 to make it fast to the grapnel end. Then I'll haul 
 it up, hook it to the balcony, and have a ladder to 
 come down again." 
 
 " Werry good, sir." 
 
 " Then you are to stay in the boat here and 
 keep a sharp lookout for anything and everything. 
 16 233
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 Have your muskets ready for use, too. You're a 
 good shot, aren't you? " 
 
 " I used to be, sir." 
 
 " I remembered it. Now, if I should happen to 
 fall you are to pick up what's left of me and take 
 it back to the ship if you can get back." 
 
 " An' if you don't come down, sir, w'ich God 
 forbid " 
 
 " Wait until about four bells in the midwatch 
 for me, as near as you can guess the time here, 
 take my watch and then you can be sure and then 
 make your way as best you can to the ship. It will 
 be easier to get out of this little bay, I think, than it 
 was to get into it, especially if the wind shifts off 
 shore. Keep her reefed down and take it slowly; 
 you must remember something of the pass from 
 our coming in." 
 
 " If you ain't here to go with me, cap'n, I don't 
 care w'ether I gits out alive or not. I'll jist jam 
 her head fer the openin' an' let her go. Damme, 
 beggin' yer parding, sir, I wish you'd take me into 
 that 'ere tower, too." 
 
 " I would rather have you down here, Jabez. 
 Good-bye; remember what I told you," Grafton 
 said, extending his hand to his faithful if humble 
 companion. 
 
 " I won't forgit none of it, sir," answered the 
 old man in a melancholy voice, shaking his cap 
 tain by the hand. 
 
 234
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 LIKE A BIRD IN THE AIR 
 
 GRAFTON sprang lightly to the shore, and rind 
 ing a suggestion of a path up the cliff, clambered 
 slowly over the stones, until he stood on the narrow 
 shelf of rock at the foot of the tower. He threw 
 his head far back and looked up along its slanting 
 surface. The clouds had broken now, and though 
 the sky was still adrift with them racing before the 
 wind, he could see, around the black edge of the 
 crenellated top, a star or two. 
 
 As he gazed upward that peculiar optical de 
 lusion which seizes people who look up at the sheer 
 pitch of a lofty building came upon him. It seemed 
 to him as though the castle were swaying toward 
 him; as though in another moment it might fall 
 and crush him. He lost all sense of the consider 
 able inclination of the tower, or if there were any 
 variation from the perpendicular; it seemed to him 
 to slope back over his head, instead of away from 
 him. It was an appalling sight. He stood at gaze 
 a second or two with his heart failing. Then he 
 shook his head and looked straight before him. 
 
 " This will never do," he murmured, " if I hesi 
 tate longer I shall be lost." 
 
 235
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 He leaned his forehead against the wall and 
 closed his eyes, breathing a prayer at the same 
 time, and having recovered his calmness thereby, 
 he slowly and cautiously began the ascent. He put 
 his foot on the first projecting stone and reached 
 across the rough surface until his fingers clutched 
 another jutting block. Then he swung himself 
 into the air. 
 
 The place had grown strangely still. He did 
 not hear the roar of the breakers outside, and the 
 scream of the wind fell unnoticed upon his ear. 
 Fortunately he was sheltered from its force be 
 cause he was on the leeward side of the tower. He 
 could never have managed it if the wind had blown 
 upon him. Perhaps that accounted for the strange 
 absence of sound. But no, something else filled 
 the fearful hollow of his ear and shut out other 
 noises. A series of blows like a hammer seemed to 
 strike him. He was wonderingly conscious of the 
 beating of his heart. 
 
 He looked neither up nor down, nor sidewise, 
 but stared straight at the wet stones in front of him 
 as he monotonously plodded up. He dared not 
 look elsewhere, in fact. He found the angle be 
 tween the tower and the wall presently and with 
 infinite care he made his way painfully upward. 
 Once he glanced quickly above him. The goal was 
 miles away, yet it seemed as if he had been crawl 
 ing up those rocks for hours. 
 
 Once his foot slipped on a round damp stone, 
 and it was only by a superhuman effort, aided by 
 a little larger projection which happened to be 
 
 236
 
 Like a Bird in the Air 
 
 under his right hand, that he kept himself from 
 falling. But presently, as he fearfully made the 
 slow ascent, his courage returned to him. He 
 forgot the danger and began to feel himself im 
 mune from it. England and her service came back 
 to him, Anne sprang into his mind. She was there, 
 perhaps, behind that window, from which the light 
 streamed out into the darkness, waiting for him, 
 dreaming of him; he should see her in a moment. 
 
 The thought lent him wings, he forgot the dizzy 
 depths below him, the unsealed heights above him, 
 he forgot his imminent deadly peril, he forgot him 
 self, in fact. However, he relaxed none of his pre 
 caution, as he painfully wormed himself up the face 
 of the tower. With each step he was drawing 
 nearer to Anne, that was the burden of his 
 thoughts. 
 
 Presently his head struck the projection at the 
 foot of the balcony surrounding the oriel window. 
 Here was the most difficult part of the ascent; but 
 he was full of confidence now. A few more cau 
 tious efforts and his hands clasped the coping of 
 the balcony. Slowly, painfully, he drew himself up, 
 swung his feet over the wall, and dropped softly 
 down to the stone floor. 
 
 He was trembling under the strain he had un 
 dergone; and until that moment he had not real 
 ized what it had been; cold perspiration had broken 
 out on his forehead, his hands were bleeding, but he 
 had achieved the feat. An undertaking, by the way, 
 had he but known it, which the unfortunate Baron 
 de Croisic had only compassed because he had been 
 
 237
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 aided by a rope dropped by the hands of the fair 
 Jehane. Grafton's ascent, therefore, had been un 
 paralleled. 
 
 He waited a few moments until he had recov 
 ered himself, and then, although he was consumed 
 by an eager desire, without looking at the shuttered 
 window, which happened to have the curtains 
 drawn before it as well, he rose slowly to his feet; 
 he took the coil of rope from his neck, dropped it 
 down to the foot of the tower, waited a few moments 
 until he felt a slight tug upon it, and then hauled up 
 the rope, to the end of which was fastened one of 
 the heavy grappling irons, or grapnels, from the 
 ship. He hooked it securely over the coping, 
 coiled the signal halliards up at his feet with sailor- 
 like care, and thus having secured his retreat turned 
 toward the window. 
 
 Barred shutters fastened inside prevented him 
 from reaching the glass of the window or the 
 hangings within. He could see nothing. Here 
 was an unforeseen obstacle. After all that he 
 had gone through was he to be stopped by a 
 shutter? 
 
 He stood a moment thinking deeply and yet 
 seeing no way. Suddenly he remembered that 
 there were other windows on the other sides of the 
 oriel. He stepped quickly around to the other face, 
 and by happy chance found one open. The guiding 
 light had come from it. The curtains hanging be 
 fore it were fluttering in the air. He drew them 
 aside a little and cautiously looked in. 
 
 The room presented an entirely different ap- 
 
 238
 
 Like a Bird in the Air 
 
 pearance from his remembrance of it the night in 
 which he had held Anne in his arms there. Then 
 it had been bare, unfurnished, empty; now, thick 
 luxurious rugs were stretched across the floor, in 
 viting couches and chairs, and several gilded tables 
 were scattered around the apartment. Rich hang 
 ings depended from the wall. On one table by a 
 vase of roses an elaborate candelabra displayed 
 many lights. A spinet stood against the wall of 
 the room, a piece of music lying upon its rack. The 
 whole room was filled with signs of a woman's oc 
 cupancy. What woman? 
 
 There was a shawl over a chair, a shawl he had 
 seen Anne wear; a work-basket sat upon a low 
 table, and in front of it lay a careless little slipper. 
 He knew its jewelled buckle. He longed to get to it. 
 There was no other foot in France in the world, 
 even for that dainty slipper but hers, he thought 
 fatuously. In an instant he divined that Anne had 
 indeed come back and had chosen to make this 
 room her boudoir. His heart gave a great leap as 
 he thought of that association of ideas by which she 
 had been led to establish herself in this spot sacred 
 to both of them. 
 
 He would see her in a moment perhaps. She 
 might be in the adjoining room yonder. His heart 
 beat louder than it had on the tower wall. To 
 enter the room seemed almost a sacrilege. Still, 
 there was no other way. 
 
 Just as he was about to climb over the sill he 
 heard a footstep in the corridor outside the room. 
 For an instant he thought it might be hers, but a 
 
 239
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 second thought undeceived him. He drew back, 
 let the curtain fall, and waited with his eye com 
 prehending the room through the corner of the 
 drapery. The door opened, the hangings before it 
 were lifted, and the sturdy figure of Josette ap 
 peared in the doorway. 
 
 "Well!" ejaculated the maid, as she stepped 
 into the room and stood looking about her with 
 her arms akimbo, " that's done, at any rate. Mon 
 Dieu! How beautiful Mademoiselle Anne looked 
 to-night! But how sad her heart! ' Helas, Jo 
 sette,' she said, as I was dressing her, ' I care not 
 how beautiful I am now/ And yet Monsieur le 
 Comte is a gallant gentleman, noble and rich. God 
 send me such a lover some day. Poor Monsieur 
 de Vitre, how sad he looks, too; and as for that 
 English knight, Sir Grafton well, 'tis he that 
 mademoiselle loves; yes, for him she breaks her 
 heart. 'Twas for him she always looked back, back, 
 back, on that hateful ship. Me, I like not the sea. 
 I'm glad 'tis not I who have so many lovers. One 
 will suit me, if I may choose. That poor English 
 man. Dame, if I had been he I had stolen her 
 away willy-nilly. She would have forgiven him, 
 I know; love like hers forgives all. But now she 
 will never see him again " 
 
 " Don't be too sure of that, Josette," whispered 
 Grafton in her ear. 
 
 Taking advantage of a moment when she had 
 turned her back to the window, he had slipped 
 into the room and approached her. He must trust 
 some one, and who better than the girl whom he 
 
 240
 
 Like a Bird in the Air 
 
 knew to be devoted to her mistress and not un 
 friendly toward him either? 
 
 She promptly opened her lips to scream, an 
 attempt which Grafton frustrated by clapping one 
 hand over her mouth and forcing her into a chair 
 with the other, sternly bidding her be quiet as he 
 did so. 
 
 " Is it a spirit? " she wailed. " Oh, monsieur, 
 for the love of Heaven " 
 
 "Nonsense!" softly answered Grafton, "be 
 silent! Can't you see and feel that I am 
 alive?" 
 
 " But we left you in Quebec, ill, wounded " 
 
 " Did you think that I would stay there forever? 
 I have recovered, as you see, and I have come 
 for mademoiselle. Where is she? Is there not 
 some place where we can talk? Will any come 
 here? " 
 
 " No one will come here, monsieur, at least not 
 now, I think. I alone have access to mademoi 
 selle's apartments." 
 
 " Where is she? " 
 
 " At dinner, monsieur." 
 
 " Oh, and is there any one else here? " 
 
 " Yes, monsieur, the Marquis de Chabot gives 
 a dinner to Monsieur le Marechal de Conflans and 
 the officers of his fleet to announce the betrothal 
 of his grand-daughter to " 
 
 " De Vitre? " 
 
 " No, monsieur, certainly not. He is much too 
 little for so grand a lady as mademoiselle." 
 
 " To whom, then? " 
 
 241
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 " To his old friend, Monsieur de Kersaint." 
 
 "Good Heaven!" exclaimed Grafton. "The 
 other man! " 
 
 " Yes, monsieur." 
 
 " And the countess, does she consent? " 
 
 " Her consent was not asked, monsieur. The 
 marquis announced it when they arrived three days 
 ago. 'Twas settled before we came." 
 
 "And de Vitre?" 
 
 " He is in agony, monsieur. Monsieur le Mar 
 quis laughed at her when she tried to tell him. He 
 said it was nothing, impossible, preposterous. Oh, 
 you should see that poor young man, his heart is 
 breaking! " 
 
 " I care nothing for his heart, Josette, but as 
 to mademoiselle? " 
 
 " Her heart is breaking too, and she says " 
 
 The maid hesitated, perhaps fearing she was be 
 traying her mistress. 
 
 " Yes, what does she say? " he questioned her, 
 bending on her a compelling gaze. 
 
 " She says she does not care who it is, since 
 so long as it is not you, monsieur." 
 
 " O Josette, bless you for those words! What 
 does Monsieur de Vitre intend to do? " 
 
 " I know not. He speaks of carrying made 
 moiselle off, but she will not hear of it. He ap 
 pealed to her plighted word, but she says she will 
 approach her grandfather in time. He must give 
 her time. The French fleet is going out to capture 
 the English, they say. Monsieur de Kersaint and 
 Monsieur de Vitre go with it. Mademoiselle says 
 
 242
 
 Like a Bird in the Air 
 
 ' Who knows? ' but I ought not to tell you this, 
 monsieur, you are an enemy." 
 
 " Not your enemy, Josette, nor mademoi 
 selle's." 
 
 " I ought to give monsieur up to the marquis," 
 remarked the Breton girl doubtfully, " he would 
 never forgive me if he knew." 
 
 " Do you serve mademoiselle or the marquis, 
 Josette? " 
 
 " Mademoiselle," exclaimed the maid fervently. 
 
 " And would she give me up, think you? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " She loves me? " 
 
 " Ah, monsieur! " cried the girl, " you can not 
 know how she feels. If monsieur could see her 
 with her pale face and with her eyes full of tears! 
 If monsieur could hear her murmuring in her sleep 
 his name! She chose this tower for her room 
 because the window looked toward Canada where 
 she thought monsieur was. Alas, poor made 
 moiselle! " 
 
 " When will she come back here? " 
 
 " After the dinner is served, I think, when the 
 gentlemen take their wine." 
 
 " Josette, I must be taken where I can see them 
 at the dinner." 
 
 " Tis not possible, monsieur! " cried the girl. 
 
 "It must be; there must be some way, some 
 place where you can put me! I 'remember! 
 Doesn't the armory open from the dining-room? " 
 
 " Yes, but " 
 
 " Take me there, then." 
 
 243
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 " But your uniform! If they see you as you go 
 through the hall? " 
 
 " Bring me your long cloak, Josette. We are 
 about the same height, are we not? Wrap that 
 around me. I will draw the hood over my head. 
 You must go with me. Will any one question 
 you? " 
 
 " No one, unless we meet Jean-Renaud or the 
 steward, and they are both likely to be in the din 
 ing-room." 
 
 " We will have to chance that, then. Come, no 
 more objections! Tis for the Countess Anne's 
 sake. I must see her. I will save her. Remember, 
 if you betray me, you break your mistress's heart! " 
 
 " Very well, monsieur, remain where you are," 
 cried the girl, convinced at last. " I will get the 
 cloak. For Heaven's sake, sir, stay quietly in the 
 room until I return." 
 
 When she left him he stooped and picked up 
 the little slipper which Anne had evidently care 
 lessly left there when she went in to her dressing- 
 room to make her toilet for the dinner. He 
 gazed at it, covered it with kisses, and slipped it 
 hurriedly into the breast of his coat as Josette re 
 turned. 
 
 As he had said, they were about the same 
 height. Her cloak fitted him perfectly. She 
 wrapped it around him and it completely concealed 
 him. Laying aside his cocked hat he drew the 
 hood over his head, hiding his face, and then the 
 two descended the stairs, passing one or two serv 
 ants .who looked at them curiously. Fortune fa- 
 
 244
 
 Like a Bird in the Air 
 
 voured them. Jean-Renaud was in attendance 
 upon the marquis, the steward was busy supervis 
 ing the service of the dinner, and no one else pre 
 sumed to interrogate so important a person as the 
 chatelaine's confidential maid and foster-sister. 
 They gained the armory without difficulty. 
 
 There Josette left him after exacting a whis 
 pered promise from him not to leave the room 
 until she came for him. The door opening into the 
 dining-room, and which was veiled by heavy hang 
 ings, happened to be ajar. Through the opening 
 between the curtains Grafton had a clear view of 
 the apartment beyond. 
 
 245
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 NUMBERED WEIGHED DIVIDED 
 
 THE great Gothic apartment was ablaze with 
 light from hundreds of wax candles in sconces set 
 between the banners on the wall, or in the massive 
 candelabra standing upon the long table which was 
 glistening with a gorgeous service of rare and mas 
 sive plate. Ancient flagons of curious shapes from 
 Flanders, cups from Italy that Cellini might have 
 chased, exquisite dishes of the finest Sevres pate 
 tfiidre, the royal porcelain of France, first coming 
 into use at that time Madame de Pompadour's 
 one good gift to humanity were ranged upon the 
 board. Wine of the rarest vintage, fabulously old 
 and each drop priceless, sparkled in the tall crystal 
 goblets which some roving ancestor had brought 
 from Venice. The damask linen cloth was strewn 
 with strange and beautiful orchids from the match 
 less conservatories of the chateau, their odd shapes 
 and lavender hues vividly outlined against the 
 snowy napery. 
 
 Servants in the gorgeous mediaeval livery of the 
 de Rohans flitted noiselessly about serving the 
 numerous guests. Musicians from one of the ships 
 in the harbour discoursed sweet melodies in an 
 
 246
 
 Numbered Weighed Divided 
 
 adjoining chamber. In short, nothing had been 
 left undone to give honour and magnificence to the 
 feast. The resources of the chateau had been lav 
 ishly displayed, and Versailles itself could scarcely 
 have afforded a more splendid showing of luxuri 
 ous elegance and wealth. 
 
 Around the board were grouped men bearing 
 the names of some of the noblest families in 
 France. At the head, of course, sat the Marquis 
 de Chabot-Rohan himself, old Jean-Renaud stand 
 ing erect behind his chair. On his right, in the seat 
 of honour, was placed Admiral de Conflans, who, 
 in addition to his exalted naval rank, was also a 
 marshal of France. Next to the marshal-admiral 
 was placed the venerable and princely Archbishop of 
 Vannes. Below him sat his Highness the Prince 
 de Beauffremont-Listenois, the vice-admiral of the 
 fleet unfortunately not destined to add to his re 
 nown in the coming campaign. 
 
 After these in order of rank were ranged the 
 chief officers and captains of the van division of the 
 great French Armada. Among them, near the foot 
 of the table, sat Denis de Vitre. He had been duly 
 exchanged since his arrival and promoted to the 
 rank of capitaine-de-fregate, and recently appoint 
 ed executive officer of Le Thesee, still under the 
 command of the Comte de Kersaint de Kerguelen. 
 
 Grafton's glance took in this line with one quick 
 survey, and then turned to the other side of the 
 table. His gaze swept past the marquis and rested 
 upon the person who sat at his left hand. This 
 place was occupied by the grand-daughter of the 
 
 247
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 house. He looked at her for a second, then closed 
 his eyes as if the sight had dazzled him. Never 
 had he seen her so beautiful, never had she pre 
 sented so splendid and glorious a picture. Not in 
 his most rapturous lover's dream had he imagined 
 this. 
 
 She wore a dress of pale violet satin, with pip 
 ings of white and lacings of silver over the pointed 
 bodice. It was cut low, of course, after the fashion 
 of the day, and afforded a full view of her dazzling 
 neck and shoulders. The gaze of other men upon 
 them seemed to Grafton a profanation. 
 
 She was a perfect blaze of diamonds. The jew 
 els of centuries, known and storied in the de Rohan 
 traditions, had been wrought by cunning artificers 
 into rare and beautiful forms to present a fit setting 
 for her radiant beauty. A coronet of gems flashed 
 in the mazes of her powdered hair. Diamond stars 
 caught the bertha of matchless point lace which fell 
 low over her corsage; diamond clusters fastened the 
 little white plume that curled backward, like a sun 
 beam in a twilight, over her hair, rising softly from 
 her sweet brow in the fashion of the time. 
 
 Low at her corsage she wore a bunch of price 
 less orchids whose purple and violet hues shot with > 
 touches of gold blended so exquisitely with the fab 
 ric of her gown. 
 
 The men about that table were dressed with the 
 magnificence and splendour characteristic of that 
 age of display; the scarlet and blue of the navy, 
 the white and gold of the army, the green of the 
 marine corps, the royal purple of the bishop's vest- 
 
 248
 
 Numbered Weighed Divided 
 
 ments, the yellow and silver of the waiting attend 
 ants, blended and harmonized in one vivid kaleido 
 scopic mass of shifting hues. The soft light spark 
 led on many a diamond star and was reflected from 
 many a jewelled order on manly breasts; but the 
 glory of the Countess Anne was undimmed by the 
 contrast; in this galaxy of colour she was like the 
 sun amid the stars. 
 
 Grafton had eyes for no one but her. He had 
 known that she was beautiful even in the simplicity 
 in which she had always been robed when he had 
 seen her. He had known that she was the fairest of 
 women, to him at any rate, but he never realized un 
 til now how magnificently royal she was in her rare 
 and exquisite loveliness. His heart sank as he 
 looked at her. She was one in a world. Surely this 
 treasure in which Nature summed up the achieve 
 ments of the past and anticipated the possibilities of 
 the future could not be for him! But if not for 
 him, for no one, he swore. Yet he felt an intense 
 sympathy for poor de Vitre, sitting haggard at the 
 foot of the table, eating nothing, moodily draining 
 his glass and staring at Anne. She was as far from 
 him as heaven. 
 
 Next to Anne, with the permission of the guests 
 on account of the nature of the occasion, the mar 
 quis had placed the Comte de Kersaint, whose naval 
 rank would not have entitled him to so high a seat 
 at the table. Next to de Kersaint sat the gallant 
 rear-admiral, St. Andre du Verger, soon to die and 
 win an immortal name for his heroism in the ap 
 proaching battle. By his side was placed Monsieur 
 17 249
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 de Bompart, chef-d'Escadre, or commodore, com 
 manding a division of six ships of the line which had 
 recently entered the harbour, aided by the unfortu 
 nate gale which had compelled Hawke to break the 
 blockade for the time being a welcome re-enforce 
 ment indeed for de Conflans. 
 
 As Grafton's glance finally turned to de Ker- 
 saint, his latest rival, he was forced to admit that he 
 was no unworthy competitor for Anne's hand. Not 
 without a certain stateliness and dignity was the 
 bold figure of this superb sailor. Of splendid physi 
 cal proportions, indicating great strength, with in 
 domitable courage written on his brow, with rank 
 and station apparent in his simple yet easy bearing, 
 and with a slight bluff bonhomie added; in spite of 
 his years, he might well hope to win a woman's 
 heart. 
 
 De Kersaint's family was among the oldest in 
 Brittany, his means ample, he might fairly be 
 termed wealthy, in fact; and he stood so high in 
 the favour of the King that in all probability, if he 
 lived, he would finally be made the admiral of 
 France, an office of the greatest consequence. 
 Long since he had become one of the most distin 
 guished officers in the French navy. He was an 
 adversary, in love or war, the most formidable, and 
 not to be despised. 
 
 He had only aspired of late to the hand of the 
 charming girl who had so confidently liked and ad 
 mired him as her father's friend when she had been 
 a child; but if Grafton could judge from the way 
 he looked at her, he made up for his tardiness by 
 
 250
 
 Numbered Weighed Divided 
 
 his ardour in the end. He was a widower of many 
 years' standing, and his son had already made a 
 name for himself in the service. He had no other 
 children. The marquis had gladly welcomed the 
 alliance offered him, and the two men had settled it 
 together before Anne had appeared upon the scene. 
 
 The feast of the evening had been made to an 
 nounce formally the engagement of Anne to de 
 Kersaint. The countess had protested, and had 
 again directly broached to her grandfather the sub 
 ject of her plighted troth to de Vitre. The mar 
 quis had refused to hear her; as before, had pooh- 
 poohed the whole affair as a girlish flirtation. What 
 had maidens to do with hearts? he questioned. 
 Those were luxuries reserved for married women. 
 In the ethics of France in that day a maiden's duty 
 was obedience. As for de Vitre, he was a cadet of 
 an obscure house, no match for the last and most 
 beautiful of the de Rohans. She surely was not in 
 earnest! 
 
 Her grandfather's refusal would indeed relieve 
 her honourably of the attentions of de Vitre, since 
 she had expressly stipulated for his consent. But 
 between de Vitre and de Kersaint she preferred the 
 former, or, to speak by the card, she preferred nei 
 ther. She wanted Grafton, and Grafton only. She 
 was in as great unhappiness therefore in this new 
 development as before. Unable, or unwilling, at 
 that time, to break into open rebellion, especially 
 now that she was separated apparently irrevocably 
 from Grafton, Anne deemed it well to temporize. 
 In spite of her flight, her renunciation of him, she 
 
 251
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 '"was waiting and hoping to hear from the man she 
 loved. She had only stipulated, therefore, that 
 there was to be no formal betrothal, and that her 
 grandfather should confine himself to the simple 
 announcement at the feast that it was in contem 
 plation. 
 
 Like Grafton, she was fighting for time. In 
 deed, in the engagement to de Kersaint she really- 
 thought there was a loophole for an escape before 
 her. Between de Kersaint and de Vitre what might 
 not happen? She was fully resolved never to marry 
 de Kersaint, and her resolution with regard to de 
 Vitre was not so strong as it had been. Absence, 
 separation, both pleaded powerfully for Grafton. 
 So she waited and hoped still. 
 
 As for de Vitre, he had been cordially welcomed 
 in France and had been promptly promoted when 
 the story of his heroism had been made known; but 
 his shrift would have been short indeed if he had pre 
 sumed to cross the path of the marquis, whose influ 
 ence with de Conflans was unbounded. It was well 
 known that the French intended to get to sea at 
 once. Opportunities for distinction would certainly 
 occur. He could not afford to jeopardize his chance 
 for service. Therefore, he was forced to endure the 
 situation in silence. Yet it is possible that none of 
 these considerations would have weighed with him 
 had not the course which he pursued been enjoined 
 upon him by Anne herself, under threat of immedi 
 ate and final rejection. He, too, therefore waited 
 and hoped. 
 
 The face of de Kersaint, as Grafton surveyed 
 252
 
 Numbered Weighed Divided 
 
 it, was filled with joy and good-humour. The 
 Frenchman noted with evident satisfaction the 
 glances of admiration and envy which were cast at 
 his end of the table, and it was plain to be seen that 
 he was entirely satisfied with the situation, and the 
 complacence of the old marquis was equally appar 
 ent. The engagement had not been formally an 
 nounced, but every one was practically aware of it. 
 
 Laughter, jollity, merriment, subdued by the re 
 finements and requirements of good breeding, 
 floated around the table. Joy and good-humour 
 were reflected from every face except two. Hearts 
 beat high in anticipation. The officers of the squad 
 ron, who had not yet received orders for the depar 
 ture, felt that it was in the wind and eagerly antici 
 pated it. 
 
 Tired of the long days of inaction while block 
 aded by Hawke, they longed to get to sea; the re- 
 enforcement which Commodore de Bompart had 
 been luckily enabled to bring them made them equal 
 in strength to their haughty enemies, and they were 
 fain to get at them. With sailors' abhorrence of 
 land, they thirsted for blue water and the open 
 sea, the heave of the unquiet deck, the sing of the 
 wind through the cordage, when the ship tossed 
 and pitched on the waves in the salt air. They were 
 going out, they felt sure, and they waited expec 
 tantly for the word. 
 
 Grafton, who had ample time to study the peo 
 ple in the dining-room as the banquet progressed, 
 marked with a thrill of happiness that the universal 
 joy was not reflected in the face of his love. Never 
 
 253
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 had he seen it colder, paler, more filled with that 
 ineffable disdain he loved to note when not meant 
 for him. There was not the slightest touch of mirth 
 and happiness in her features as her eyes restlessly 
 swept the table. When her glance fell upon the 
 huge and happy Frenchman who sat next her, 
 Grafton noticed that she seemed to shrink from him. 
 None but a lover's eye could have detected the 
 movement, but to him it was plain. 
 
 He stared steadily at her through the little open 
 ing in the curtain until she became restless under 
 his intent look. Her eyes wavered, and finally be 
 came fixed upon the hangings behind which he 
 stood, with a look as if they might have burned 
 through them. Her lips parted slightly. He could 
 see the more rapid rise and fall of her breast as she 
 leaned forward. He could almost swear that she 
 saw him. 
 
 Indeed, an influence which she could feel but 
 not recognise drew her eyes toward his own. She 
 could not see him, she did not dream he was there, 
 but some impelling force caused her heart to beat 
 madly. De Kersaint spoke to her, but she took no 
 notice. The marquis, noting her abstraction, 
 turned in surprise, and then quietly laid his hand 
 upon her jeweled fingers stretched listlessly upon 
 the table. She seemed to wake with a painful start, 
 passed her hand over her brow, and looked at him. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said the marquis at last, the re 
 past having been concluded by this time, " before 
 the Countess Anne retires I wish you to drink a 
 health with me." 
 
 254
 
 Numbered Weighed Divided 
 
 " A health! A health! " cried the men, thrusting 
 their chairs back from the table, seizing their full 
 glasses, and rising to their feet as they spoke. 
 
 " Messieurs," cried the old man in his high- 
 pitched old voice, " I give you the health of the 
 Demoiselle de Rohan and the Comte de Kersaint, 
 and I announce to you the engagement which has 
 been entered upon between this son and daughter of 
 Brittany, to carry on and perpetuate the two ancient 
 races." 
 
 This was death and agony to Grafton. It was 
 only by the strongest constraint that he could keep 
 himself from bursting into the room. 
 
 "Vive la Demoiselle de Rohan!" 
 
 " Vive de Kersaint!" 
 
 " Long life and happiness to the pride of Brit 
 tany! " resounded through the hall as the men drank 
 the toast with enthusiasm. 
 
 " Shiver your glasses, gentlemen, when you 
 drink to the Demoiselle de Rohan! " cried the mar 
 quis when he had drained his own, at the same time 
 dashing his priceless cup to the floor. 
 
 Amid the crashing of the crystal, therefore, 
 Anne, pale as a ghost, the image of everything 
 but joy, rose to her feet and lifted her own 
 glass. 
 
 " Messieurs," she said softly, " I drink to you 
 and to France." She bowed low before them amid a 
 murmur of admiration evoked by her grace and 
 beauty, and continued : " And I thank you. And 
 now, with your permission, Monsieur le Marquis 
 and gentlemen all, I will withdraw. Resume your 
 
 255
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 seats, messieurs. I thank you again for your con 
 gratulations." 
 
 The marquis handed her to the door. Grafton 
 noticed that she tottered as she withdrew. The 
 scene had been too much for her. He had shot one 
 swift glance toward the foot of the table, too, and he 
 had noticed that one glass had not been lifted when 
 the toast had been drunk, and that it still stood brim 
 ming with wine upon the board in front of the hag 
 gard de Vitre. The American pitied him, his mis 
 ery was so great and so apparent. Meanwhile con 
 gratulations from all sides were bestowed upon de 
 Kersaint. The men crowded around him, shak 
 ing him by the hand, drinking healths to him from 
 fresh glasses which had been brought, and over 
 whelming him with acclamations which he bore 
 with good-humoured modesty. 
 
 Grafton would have left the armory at once to 
 follow Anne had he not faithfully promised Josette 
 to stay there until she summoned him. He waited, 
 therefore, in increasing impatience. He was glad, 
 however, even in the midst of his passion, that he 
 had remained, when he heard Admiral de Conflans 
 tapping the table and requesting silence. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he said, as the tumult died away 
 and the men subsided into their seats once more, 
 " with the permission of my friend, the Marquis de 
 Chabot-Rohan, I will propose a toast to you, and 
 at the same time make an announcement. The 
 English have been driven from the blockade by the 
 fierce gales and I intend to go to sea. Amid such 
 loyal friends and supporters I do not hesitate to 
 
 256
 
 Numbered Weighed Divided 
 
 say that we are bound for the enemy's country. I 
 first propose to take the English squadron in Qui- 
 beron Bay, to embark there the officers and men of 
 the brave army commanded by Monsieur le Due 
 d'Aiguillon and Marechal Belloc, and then away for 
 Ireland, crushing any one who may endeavour to 
 stay our progress; and if that be Admiral Hawke, 
 let him look to his ships! " 
 
 The hall was filled with shouts of approval and 
 joyful acclamations. 
 
 " A moment, gentlemen," continued the old ad 
 miral, smiling his approbation of the enthusiasm of 
 his subordinates and making a fine figure, with his 
 powdered head, weather-beaten, haughty old face, 
 his rich uniform heavy with gold lacing, and his 
 breast covered with orders " a moment, while I 
 give you the toast. Fill your glasses all and drink 
 deep with me: Death to the enemies of the King, 
 confusion to the English, success to our endeavour! 
 Vive la France! " 
 
 A perfect roar of applause and acquiescence 
 swept through the room. Men sprang upon the 
 chairs crying and cheering, some tore down the ban 
 ners and flags from the walls, waving them fran 
 tically, and shouting themselves hoarse in their ex 
 citement. They would shout another way, sing an 
 other tune once the grim English Hawke got his 
 talons in them, thought Grafton still, 'twas a 
 pretty sight. He alone seemed to read an old sen 
 tence on the wall. 
 
 " When do you sail, Monsieur de Conflans? " 
 asked the archbishop, when he could be heard above 
 
 257
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 the tumult. There was an instant silence as they all 
 waited in tense excitement to receive the reply. 
 
 " Monseigneur," answered the old admiral, in 
 clining his head toward the prelate, " I beg you to 
 invoke a blessing upon our undertaking. Silence, 
 gentlemen! " 
 
 The officers stood with bowed heads while the 
 venerable archbishop, rising and lifting a white hand 
 in the air, breathed forth an eloquent prayer for the 
 success of their arms. The amens with which the 
 guests ratified his passionate petition were not less 
 deep and fervent than had been their cries a moment 
 since. 
 
 " Most Reverend Father," returned the admi 
 ral, as the prayer was concluded, " as to the time 
 of sailing? As soon as the wind changes, mon- 
 seigneur, and lets us get away from the harbour." 
 
 There was a sudden clashing of arms on the 
 stair. A young soldier, an officer of cavalry, strode 
 into the room through the open door. He stopped 
 before the admiral, clicked his heels together with 
 military precision, and saluted. 
 
 " Monsieur le Marechal," * he said, " I have a 
 message to you from the port admiral." 
 
 " What is it, sir? " 
 
 " He bade me tell you that the wind had 
 changed within the hour and 'tis now blowing fair 
 for you to leave the harbour." 
 
 " Gentlemen," cried the admiral, " we sail at six 
 in the morning. We have much to do. Monsieur 
 
 * Admiral de Conflans was also a marshal of France. 
 258
 
 Numbered Weighed Divided 
 
 le Marquis, you will pardon us if we withdraw thus 
 early? Come, come, messieurs, the toasting and 
 feasting are over, the time of war begins." 
 
 Grafton felt a touch on his arm. The anxious 
 face of Josette loomed up out of the darkness near 
 his shoulder. 
 
 " Come with me," she whispered softly. 
 
 As he turned to go, he heard the admiral say to 
 de Kersaint: 
 
 " Monsieur, you may remain here an hour 
 or two longer. Your ship, I know, is in readi 
 ness to weigh anchor, and so long as you are aboard 
 at the appointed time I shall be satisfied. I am loath 
 to part you from so charming a fiancee in so uncere 
 monious a way. Yes," he continued, in answer to 
 a question, " you may retain Captain de Vitre." 
 
 Grafton drew the hood over his head once more, 
 and wrapping the cloak closely about him turned 
 and followed the nervous Josette, as she stepped 
 rapidly through the hall and up the stair. The cor 
 ridors were filled with gentlemen and servants, and 
 though one or two cast glances of curiosity and 
 suspicion at the maid and her companion, they were 
 neither accosted nor detained. Just as they entered 
 upon the stair the steward came into the corridor 
 and gazed earnestly at them. 
 
 As Grafton found himself mounting the tower 
 stair he discovered his heart beating almost to suffo 
 cation. He was to see Anne, to speak to her again, 
 perhaps to take her in his arms, to kiss her once 
 more. He forgot his frigate outside, he forgot the 
 French fleet, his duty, everything, for the moment, 
 
 259
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 i 
 
 but his love. How would she greet him? He 
 would soon know. They were approaching her 
 door. 
 
 " Have you told her that I am here? " he asked 
 Josette. 
 
 " No, monsieur." 
 
 " That's well." 
 
 " Shall I announce you now? " 
 
 " By no means. Do you stand by the door here 
 and give me warning of any approach." 
 
 ''' You would not harm the Countess Anne, 
 monsieur? " she asked, laying her hand upon his 
 arm and looking at him beseechingly. " You will 
 remember that she is but a woman who loves 
 you?" 
 
 " I love her too, Josette. I swear to you I 
 would rather die than harm should come to her. 
 Rest easy. And enter without hesitation should I 
 be in danger of discovery. Is this the door? " 
 
 She nodded her head. He pressed her hand 
 softly, opened the door, parted the curtains, and 
 entered the room. 
 
 260
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 THREE LOVERS COME TO THE TOWER 
 
 THE Countess Anne was seated in a chair at a 
 table at the other side of the room within the oriel 
 window. She was dressed just as she had been 
 when she left the dining-room a few moments be 
 fore. She sat with her back toward him and with 
 her face buried in her hands. He could see by the 
 trembling of her shoulders that she was weeping. 
 He had made no sound as he entered and she did 
 not look up. He stood for an instant watching 
 her, his heart in his gaze. Time meant liberty 
 nay, life to him, yet if the sword had been at his 
 throat he could not have refrained from that mo 
 ment of contemplation. 
 
 How exquisite was her beauty, that wandering 
 lock of hair curling so tenderly about her neck! 
 How he longed to kiss it! He moved a step nearer 
 to her, involuntarily stretching out his hands toward 
 her. At the same moment she lifted her head and 
 looked out into the night through the window in 
 the direction of Canada. 
 
 "Philip, Sir Philip!" she whispered pitifully. 
 "So far away!" 
 
 He took a step nearer. It was painfully still 
 261
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 within the room. Perhaps she heard the beating of 
 his heart, for she slowly turned her head and stared 
 at him. He stood before her eyes as if rooted to the 
 spot. 
 
 " Philip," she murmured softly, doubting her 
 senses, " is it a dream? Am I a child again, that 
 you stand here in the old room, in the old tower 
 where first you loved me, where first your lips met 
 mine? Philip!" 
 
 She rose to her feet and turned toward him. 
 He could not move, she fascinated him. 
 
 " Philip! " she cried again, her voice rising in 
 joy and fervour mingled, " is it indeed you? I left 
 you in Quebec. How came you here? " 
 
 She tottered toward him in lovely bewilderment, 
 but her strength had been so sorely taxed that it 
 now gave way she swayed unsteadily and would 
 have fallen. Another step took him to her side. 
 He clasped her to his breast, strained her to his 
 heart so tightly that he hurt her as he covered 
 her surprised face with kisses. She sank into his 
 arms. Her head fell upon his shoulder. He felt 
 the sinuous, supple yield of her slender body as 
 her hands met around his neck. For the mo 
 ment neither spoke. Presently he turned her 
 lovely face up to his own again. He looked into 
 her eyes once more. Not the blackness of the 
 night outside the dark tower was so deep and full 
 as they. 
 
 " O Philip! " she whispered, returning kiss 
 for kiss. " You have come back to me. Thank 
 God, you have come back to me! " 
 
 262
 
 Three Lovers come to the Tower 
 
 " Yet you left me in America, Anne. You left 
 me without a word! How could you? " 
 
 " My letter? Did you not receive it? " 
 
 " Ay, but not a word from your lips. You left 
 me alone, ill, helpless. But there I will not 
 reproach you. I followed you; I would have fol 
 lowed you to the end of the earth. Did you not 
 know it? Did you not dream that I should be 
 here?" 
 
 She nodded her head. 
 
 " I looked for you, I waited for you, I knew you 
 would come, my own! " she murmured, laying her 
 cheek upon his shoulder again with a long sigh of 
 utter content. 
 
 He was here, he was hers, she was his, he held 
 her close in his strong arms what more? His clasp 
 was so tight, he crushed her so against his breast, 
 that the diamond cross she wore was pressed deep 
 into her tender bosom. What mattered it? The 
 pain was sweet to her, 'twas love's brand. He 
 would never release her now. She was his only. 
 The weary days of waiting, the long voyage over 
 the stormy seas, the plans of her grandfather, the 
 hopes of de Vitre they were forgotten. Honour, 
 faith, obedie.nce he had conquered. 
 
 " Yours, yours only, Philip, my darling yours, 
 yours, yours only," she murmured again and again 
 as she felt his beating heart. It was so restful in 
 his arms she surrendered herself to him in passion 
 ate devotion. She nestled against him as a child, 
 who was seeking peace and longing for a haven, 
 might have done. 
 
 263
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 " But how came you here, Philip? " she asked 
 at last, withdrawing from his arms a space that she 
 might look at him. 
 
 How handsome he was, how like a king! 
 
 " Do you not remember that night in the tower, 
 my own? " 
 
 " Have I ever forgotten it? There you kissed 
 away the child, and from that moment I loved you. 
 'Twas for that reason I bade them make my room 
 here." 
 
 " You recall the story of Baron de Croisic, 
 sweet how we wondered if one could climb the 
 wall?" 
 
 " Yes, yes, and you said, given a sufficient 
 what was the word, Philip? " 
 
 " Incentive, sweet Anne, and with you at the 
 top I could have climbed to heaven." 
 
 "O Philip!" she shuddered, "and did you 
 come up that awful wall this dark night? How 
 could you do it? " 
 
 " Love lent me wings. I saw you at the top. 
 I pictured this moment. 'Twas hope and a light 
 heart that lifted me up, my darling." 
 
 " And if you had fallen? " 
 
 " Then you would have been troubled no longer. 
 Little France." 
 
 " I should have laid my body beside yours, Phil 
 ip, at the foot of the tower wall," she cried, trem 
 bling and pressing him to her heart once more. 
 
 " But your engagement, Anne? " 
 
 " O Philip, that is not all. Not only did I prom 
 ise myself to Monsieur de Vitre, but " 
 
 264
 
 Three Lovers come to the Tower 
 
 " You were betrothed to-night to de Ker- 
 saint." 
 
 " You know? " 
 
 " I was there." 
 
 "There? Where?" 
 
 " In the armory, behind the curtain." 
 
 " Ah! " she cried. " 'Twas you that made me 
 look and gaze! " 
 
 " Yes, 'twas I. But you do not love this man? " 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " Philip, my Philip, can you not see whom I 
 love? There is not a throb of my heart that is not 
 for you. Ah, would that you might say the same! " 
 
 " I do say it, dearest. I swear it! " 
 
 " But that picture in the locket? " 
 
 " Set your heart at ease, Anne. In a little while 
 you shall know the mystery of that." 
 
 " I have no mysteries from you, Philip." 
 
 " Nor shall I have from you, love, when this 
 poor story is told. But tell me, what is it you will 
 do?" 
 
 " I know not. My honour was pledged to de 
 Vitre, although, with my grandfather's refusal, that 
 conditional promise is broken, and I am free there. 
 My heart is given to you, and my grandfather 
 plights me to de Kersaint. What shall I do? " 
 
 " Follow your heart, Anne; love is the safest 
 guide. Listen. I have a rope here attached to the 
 tower, I can lower you safely and easily down. 
 There, in a little bay below, a trusty man and a little 
 boat are ready for us. Outside on the ocean my 
 stout frigate waits us. Come with me. In one day 
 18 265
 
 The (Juiberon Touch 
 
 we are in England, free, and we shall be married at 
 once. Trust me as you love me. I will give up 
 my commission in the navy of England, if you wish ; 
 we will go back to America, and there, in your 
 mother's land, Anne, make home and happiness to 
 gether." 
 
 " Philip," she cried, persuaded yet resistant, " I 
 I can not." 
 
 He gently led her toward the window, faintly 
 protesting, feebly struggling. How masterful he 
 was, this wooer who would not be denied! Could 
 she resist him? Her will ay, but her heart, was 
 traitor, and to every plea he urged it beat yes, yes, 
 yes! 
 
 " Mercy, Philip! De Vitre! Monsieur de Ker- 
 saint! My grandfather, my country, my home! 
 Pity me. Do not ask. I am weak before you. I 
 can not, and yet, if you say so, I must! Oh, look 
 not so! " 
 
 " But you love me. Can you not trust yourself 
 with me? Will you not give up all these things for 
 me? Love is selfish yes, I know it; but that I 
 can not help. I must ask you to throw aside all of 
 your life for me, and me alone ! I love you so ! Nay, 
 you shall, you must! Come! " 
 
 He bent lower to her and poured his soul into 
 her own in burning glances. She had fought a good 
 fight, she had struggled to keep her heart and keep 
 her faith. It was over. 
 
 " I throw them all aside, Philip! " she cried, 
 the relief of the decision apparent in her joyous 
 voice. " And if you will take me as I am, I will 
 
 266
 
 Three Lovers come to the Tower 
 
 go with you to England, to America, to the end of 
 the world, even! " 
 
 But the sacrifice he asked with love's egotism, 
 and which she was so willing to make with love's 
 altruism, was not to be. 
 
 " Some one comes! " cried Josette in great agi 
 tation, thrusting her head through the door. 
 " Quick, hide yourself, monsieur, or you are 
 lost!" 
 
 It would be impossible for him to carry out his 
 plan of lowering her from the tower now; it would 
 take time, and they must be unhindered. 
 
 " Go, go! " cried Anne, " you will be captured 
 killed!" 
 
 "Without you! Never!" answered Grafton. 
 " You must conceal me." 
 
 " But where? " 
 
 "There!" cried Josette, pointing to the coun 
 tess's bed-chamber. " Tis the only place." 
 
 She opened the door into the adjoining room. 
 Grafton, pressing a kiss upon Anne's cold cheek, 
 sprang through it and closed it after him. He felt 
 himself awed in that peaceful haven of her maiden 
 innocence, as if he had stepped into a sanctuary, be 
 fore a shrine. He remained standing by the door, 
 which he had left slightly ajar, so that he could 
 both see and hear all that went on in the other 
 room. 
 
 " Sit, mademoiselle, control yourself! " cried 
 Josette, as some one tapped at the door. 
 
 Anne, trembling violently, sank down on the 
 fauteuil, turning her face from the light, and 
 
 267
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 struggled resolutely for composure, while Josette 
 opened the door. Instantly a young man dashed by 
 her. 
 
 " Monsieur de Vitre," cried Anne, rising to her 
 feet in haughty surprise, " how dare you come to 
 my apartments uninvited, sir? " 
 
 " Mademoiselle," cried the Frenchman, " I am 
 so desperate I could go anywhere! I have sat silent 
 too long. I have heard you engaged to Monsieur 
 de Kersaint in the hall below, yet your troth is 
 plighted to me. Forgive me, I am mad, crazy! 
 To see you, to love you, to have you promised to 
 me, and then to listen to this announcement to 
 night! I know not what I do. You are mine, 
 mademoiselle, and yet you have scarcely allowed me 
 to kiss your hand. Is this the fidelity of a de Ro 
 han? Your hand is promised, you were not free. 
 He shall not have you. You are mine by every 
 right!" 
 
 "Stop, Monsieur de Vitre! My word is was 
 yours, and I had honestly meant to keep it, but 
 do you not recall that in the hall of the Chateau 
 St. Louis I told you when I first permitted you to 
 consider yourself engaged to me that it all depend 
 ed upon the marquis; a declaration, sir, that I re 
 peated in my own house in Quebec, when you were 
 released from confinement, that I have said over 
 and over again to you in the ship? He would not 
 hear of it, sir, even when we broached the subject 
 tentatively. "Pis impossible. And there is one 
 right, sir, that you never had." 
 
 " And what is that, pray? " 
 268
 
 Three Lovers come to the Tower 
 
 " I do not love you, sir, nor did I ever pretend to 
 do so." 
 
 " Do you love this de Kersaint, then, mademoi 
 selle? " cried the Frenchman furiously. 
 
 " Monsieur, you have no right to question 
 me." 
 
 " Right? Are you not my promised wife? But 
 I remember, you told me that you loved no gentle 
 man of France. Is there any one else? You blush, 
 mademoiselle. That Englishman? What a blind 
 fool I have been. But he has no more chance than 
 I. De Kersaint takes the prize. Did you plight 
 Captain Grafton your troth, too? And I can not re 
 sent it. I can not kill him. I owe him too much 
 life, honour, I was going to add you. You! " 
 She shivered under the scorn in his voice. " But 
 I pity him, too," he went on. " He depends on 
 your love, and I on your honour. The love of a 
 traitress, the honour of the de Rohans, mademoi 
 selle! " 
 
 He laughed bitterly in a way not good to hear. 
 Suddenly his glance fell upon the table by the win 
 dow. There was something there. He stopped as 
 if petrified with astonishment. 
 
 " What's that? " he cried. 
 
 " Sir! " said Anne, furious with indignation, and 
 yet, in her heart, a certain pity for this unfortunate 
 lover, as he made a sudden dart past her. " How 
 dare you? Retire from my apartments, or " 
 
 " I came in alone, mademoiselle, but I shall go 
 out with the wearer of this," he exclaimed fiercely, 
 lifting a hat from the table. " Whose head fits this 
 
 269
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 chapeau, I wonder the marquis'? De Kersaint's? 
 Ha, 'tis laced a naval hat! An English hat, ma 
 demoiselle. Who is here? " 
 
 " Grafton," murmured Anne in surprise, taken 
 off her guard. 
 
 " He is here, then? " he cried jealously. 
 " Where is he? Mon Dieu, in that room, your 
 chamber? Stand aside, mademoiselle. Let me 
 pass!" 
 
 " Never! " answered the girl resolutely. " You 
 presume too much, sir, upon my forbearance. 
 Leave my room instantly! " 
 
 Another second and Grafton had broken forth; 
 a new sound checked him, however, some one else 
 was coming. He listened once more. 
 
 " Who speaks thus roughly to the Demoiselle 
 de Rohan? " said a deep, harsh voice, as old Jean- 
 Renaud entered the room. " Monsieur de Vitre, 
 how dare you address my mistress in this way? Did 
 I not hear the Countess Anne beg you to retire, 
 sir? Her will is law here. Monsieur, will you go, 
 or not? " 
 
 He stepped toward the young man threatening 
 ly, all his rough Breton fidelity at the service of his 
 fair young mistress. 
 
 "The marquis!" whispered Josette, whose 
 acute ear had caught the tramp of feet in the hall, 
 whose glance had recognised her master. " He is 
 coming! " 
 
 " I am lost! " said de Vitre. 
 
 " Nay," cried the quick-witted maid, " step be 
 hind that screen yonder and be silent as you fear 
 
 270
 
 Three Lovers come to the Tower 
 
 your life. They suspect something, I am sure. Oh, 
 what escape is there for us! " 
 
 With feelings that can scarcely be imagined, 
 Anne sank down in her chair again, striving vainly 
 to compose herself for the expected entrance of her 
 grandfather. The room swam before her, yet she 
 strained herself up to meet the situation. What 
 was the cause and what would be the outcome of 
 this visit? 
 
 She could hear him outside her door in the hall 
 now. He had not come alone, evidently, for there 
 was the sound of many steps upon the stone flag 
 ging of the corridor. Presently there came a tap 
 upon the door. Josette, at a nod from her mis 
 tress, opened it. The marquis entered, followed 
 by de Kersaint and one or two attendants with 
 lights. 
 
 Anne rose to her feet as both gentlemen bowed 
 profoundly to her. 
 
 " Mademoiselle," began the marquis in his 
 stateliest manner, " I have brought with me your 
 old friend and new lover " 
 
 " Nay, my dear marquis," interrupted de 
 Kersaint, who was not without the gallantry of 
 his race, " pray say, old lover as well as old 
 friend." 
 
 " As you will. At any rate, my dear grand 
 daughter, Monsieur de Kersaint has come hither 
 to bid you farewell." 
 
 " Be seated, gentlemen," said Anne. " Does 
 Monsieur de Kersaint go farther than Brest, mon 
 sieur? " 
 
 271
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 " Mademoiselle," answered the sailor, " he who 
 starts upon a cruise in war knows not how long his 
 journey nor where it ends." 
 
 " Does your ship sail, then? " 
 
 " Yes, mademoiselle, at six o'clock in the morn- 
 ing." 
 
 " And the other vessels? " 
 
 " The whole fleet goes out under Monsieur de 
 Conflans himself to fight the English." 
 
 " I hope God may have you in his keeping, mon 
 sieur." 
 
 " Thank you, mademoiselle, but have you no 
 kinder wish with which to send me on my way? 
 The marquis, your grandfather, has announced our 
 engagement. May I not seal it upon your lips be 
 fore I go, Mademoiselle Anne? " 
 
 The two men who were listening, the one be 
 hind the screen, the other behind the door, were 
 filled with jealous rage at this, and, with an abso 
 lute parallelism of thought, would have given 
 worlds to rush forth upon the Frenchman who prof 
 fered this natural request. 
 
 " I would rather not, monsieur," faintly an 
 swered the girl, shaking her head. 
 
 " But, my dear, when you were a child I carried 
 you many times and kissed you often." 
 
 " Yes, monsieur, but I am a child no longer. 
 You will wait, I am sure, until you have a better 
 claim a more binding tie." 
 
 The two listeners breathed a sigh of relief as 
 they heard Anne's resolute denial. Indeed, had she 
 yielded, or had de Kersaint pressed the point, Graf- 
 
 272
 
 Three Lovers come to the Tower 
 
 ton, for one, would have broken forth and killed 
 him before he had touched her lips. 
 
 " You will respect the scruples of a maiden, de 
 Kersaint," said the marquis. " I rejoice that her 
 long absence in Canada has not weakened her ad 
 herence to the principles which I have endeavoured 
 to inculcate in her when she was a child. The de 
 moiselles de Rohan were ever chary of kisses, but 
 you will find that they are lavish in honour, and 
 when you come back you may claim her as your 
 bride, and then " 
 
 Grafton ground his teeth over this significant 
 hiatus. 
 
 " Mademoiselle, it costs you little to say No, and 
 me much to say Yes, but for you I will do it. I can 
 refuse you nothing," responded de Kersaint, bow 
 ing low over her hand. " I shall long for the day 
 when, the last barrier broken down, I may claim you 
 as my own." 
 
 " God speed that time, say I," remarked the 
 marquis. . 
 
 " Thank you, de Chabot," answered de Ker 
 saint, " but now I must set forth. Good-bye, made 
 moiselle." 
 
 " Adieu, Monsieur de Kersaint." 
 
 " Nay, nay, not adieu, but au revoir." 
 
 " Au revoir, then, monsieur, and may God pro 
 tect you." 
 
 " May the prayer of the beautiful be heard," 
 answered de Kersaint, turning slowly away. 
 
 273
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 DE VITRE PAYS FOR HIS LIFE AND HONOUR 
 
 " ATTEND Monsieur de Kersaint, Jean-Re- 
 naud," said the marquis to the old retainer, who had 
 been an interested spectator of the whole transac 
 tion, as the count stepped to the door. But before 
 either the sailor or the servant had passed through 
 the entrance, the marquis' steward appeared in the 
 way. 
 
 " Pardon this intrusion, Monsieur le Marquis," 
 he said in great agitation, " but there is something 
 which monsieur should know. There is a stranger 
 a spy, perhaps, somewhere in the chateau. One 
 of the servants told me tha he saw a woman, or 
 some one, in the armory during the dinner listen 
 ing; and others have said that one cloaked and 
 hooded flitted along the hall and came up these 
 stairs after the dinner. I thought monsieur would 
 not wish any one to know what passed at the table 
 and I ventured to come here." 
 
 " And you did well, Basile," answered the mar 
 quis. " A cloaked figure, a woman, then. What 
 sort of a cloak? " 
 
 " One like mademoiselle the countess' foster 
 sister wears," answered the man slowly. 
 
 274
 
 De Vitre Pays for his Life 
 
 "What, Josette!" exclaimed the marquis. 
 " De Kersaint, stay a moment until we look into 
 this. Come hither, woman!" he cried to the af 
 frighted maid. " Know you aught of this? " 
 
 The girl was almost paralyzed with terror as she 
 slowly stumbled nearer him. As for Anne, she sank 
 back in her chair as if stricken. Was Grafton about 
 to be discovered, then? Fortunately, no one no 
 ticed her at the time. 
 
 Josette stopped before her master, white with 
 fear, dumb with apprehension. 
 
 "Answer me!" cried the marquis. "Speak! 
 Ha! what is this? " he exclaimed, stepping across 
 the room and picking up the cloak from a chair 
 where Grafton had thrown it. " Was this it? " 
 
 " I judge so, Monsieur le Marquis," answered 
 Basile. 
 
 " Speak, woman! " thundered the old man. 
 " Whose cloak is this? " 
 
 " Mine, sir," faltered the girl. 
 
 " And who wore it to-night? " 
 
 " I I did myself, sir." 
 
 " Were you in the armory listening? " 
 
 " I yes sir. Oh, mon Dieu, mon Dieu! " 
 
 She sank on her knees on the floor, covered her 
 face with her hands, and burst into tears. 
 
 " Will Monsieur le Marquis pardon me? " said 
 Basile insistently. " The person, a man, perhaps, 
 was seen with Madame Josette." 
 
 "Ah, so!" cried the marquis, turning fiercely 
 to the prostrate woman. " You have lied to me, 
 then? " 
 
 275
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 " Yes, monsieur," she sobbed. 
 
 " Who was it? Speak, you fool! " 
 
 But the girl only shook her head and sobbed 
 and wailed at his feet. The marquis could get noth 
 ing further from her. 
 
 " Curse these women! " he exclaimed in deep 
 disgust. " Where did they go, Basile? " 
 
 " They came up this stair, monsieur." 
 
 " Have you men outside the door? " 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur le Marquis." 
 
 " Bid them search every chamber in this corri 
 dor. Now, Mademoiselle Anne," he said, turning to 
 the countess, " perhaps you can help us. Know 
 you aught of this strange visitor? Has any one 
 been here? " 
 
 Anne's tongue clave to the roof of her mouth, 
 her knees trembled beneath her, her heart stopped 
 its breathing in terror, but she could not lie, even to 
 save her lover. She looked at the marquis in si 
 lence. 
 
 " There is no one in the other rooms, Monsieur* 
 le Marquis," said the steward as the men reported 
 to him. 
 
 " Ha! He must be here, then. Anne, tell me 
 Why are you silent? What is it, child? " her grand 
 father bent over toward her. " Speak! I will have 
 an answer! Did any one come here? is there any 
 one here now? By Heaven, these women exasper 
 ate me beyond endurance! Jean-Renaud, you were 
 here when I came in. How long had you been 
 here? " 
 
 " But a few moments, Monsieur le Marquis." 
 276
 
 De Vitre Pays for his Life 
 
 " Did any one come in while you were here? " 
 
 " No, monsieur." 
 
 " You have been a faithful servant for fifty years, 
 you would not lie to me. I ask you again, did any 
 one come while you were here? " 
 
 " No, monsieur." 
 
 " Your pardon, de Chabot," interrupted the 
 Comte de Kersaint, " let me ask another question. 
 Jean-Renaud, was there any one here besides made 
 moiselle and her maid when you came in? " 
 
 The Breton looked stubbornly at the sailor. 
 
 " You are not my master, Monsieur de Ker 
 saint," he answered. 
 
 " Answer his question, Jean-Renaud," said the 
 marquis sharply. 
 
 The old man stared at the two gentlemen in si 
 lence. 
 
 " Answer it to me, then." 
 
 The lips of the old servant remained sealed. 
 
 " You dog! " shouted the marquis furiously. 
 " How dare you disobey my orders! And to what 
 end? Your silence proves that some one was here. 
 Who was it? Speak, I command you! On your 
 allegiance, by your faith, by the duty you owe me, I 
 charge you. I wish to know who was here. I will 
 know it! Ten thousand devils! " he roared, exas 
 perated beyond measure at the man's stubborn si 
 lence. " Will you speak, or not? As God hears me, 
 if you do not answer immediately, I shall pass my 
 sword through you! " 
 
 " That is as monsieur pleases," answered Jean- 
 Renaud sturdily. " Monsieur is a gentleman, and I 
 
 277
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 am only a Breton peasant, but I have my ideas of 
 honour, too. Serving monsieur and his son for fifty 
 years in this house, how could it be otherwise? And 
 my honour bids me be silent. Monsieur may kill 
 me, I am his man, my life is his, but monsieur can 
 not make me speak! " 
 
 Furious with rage the marquis shortened his 
 arm and drew back his sword. 
 
 " Strike not, de Chabot! " cried de Kersaint in 
 terposing, laying his hand upon the other's arm. 
 " What need? Tis certain some one is here. The 
 silence of the maid, the acquiescence of mademoi 
 selle, and the refusal of this old man to confirm or 
 deny, prove it beyond a doubt. There is no exit 
 from this or the other chamber, if I remember the 
 castle, save by the door through which we came. 
 The man or woman must be there. Let us search. 
 Honour your servant for his ancient fidelity, de 
 Chabot. He would not betray a woman. There is 
 some one here some one in the room of the wom 
 an I love, the woman who is this night plighted to 
 me. Let us search. That door, yonder? What 
 room is that? " 
 
 " Monsieur," cried Anne, stepping across to the 
 door, her face aflame, " 'tis my bed-chamber. You 
 may not pass within it but over my body." 
 
 She had not remembered de Vitre, but she 
 was on fire to protect Grafton. Yet it was a desper 
 ate, a hopeless situation. No matter, she would 
 fight for him to the end they should not harm 
 him. 
 
 " Mademoiselle, assure me on the honour of a 
 278
 
 De Vitr6 Pays for his Life 
 
 de Rohan that there is no one there and I with 
 draw." 
 
 She endeavoured to speak, vainly moistening 
 her dry lips, but she could not, so she stood silent 
 and determined between him and the door behind 
 which Grafton, his sword out, his blood up, was in 
 readiness to make a dash for liberty. But his time 
 was not yet. 
 
 " Enough, de Kersaint," exclaimed the mar 
 quis, " you may not enter those sacred precincts, 
 but I, an old man, grandfather to this wayward 
 child, may go anywhere. Stand aside, Anne 
 or " 
 
 "Mercy! mercy!" cried the girl, dropping to 
 her knees before the door. " Mere de Dieu! Help 
 me, have pity upon me! " 
 
 " Oh, he is in there, then? A moment, de Ker 
 saint, and you shall have him before your sword," 
 cried the marquis, springing forward. 
 
 Grafton thought his hour was come. But no, 
 not yet! 
 
 " Search no farther," exclaimed a sharp voice 
 from the other side of the room, as de Vitre, pale as 
 death, threw down the screen and revealed himself. 
 He had heard all, divined all. Anne loved him not. 
 He would sacrifice himself for her, for her lover, 
 pay back some of the debt he owed to Grafton. 
 
 " Oh, thank God, thank God! " cried Anne, ris 
 ing to her feet and shrinking back against the door 
 frame. 
 
 " Monsieur de Vitre! " the marquis called out, 
 in great surprise. 
 
 279
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 " Captain de Vitre, by Heaven, what do you 
 here? " demanded de Kersaint, springing forward 
 threateningly. 
 
 " Messieurs, I came here as the rightful be 
 trothed of Mademoiselle Rohan, as the man who 
 had received her troth in New France. Resolved to 
 make one more appeal to her, I left the banquet-hall 
 to throw myself at her feet." 
 
 " Did you come by the invitation of mademoi 
 selle? " asked de Kersaint. 
 
 " No, monsieur. I came unannounced." 
 
 " You love this man, mademoiselle? " 
 
 "Alas! no, Monsieur de Kersaint," answered 
 Anne. " I esteem him. He sought my hand under 
 peculiar circumstances in New France. I consent 
 ed, subject to the acquiescence of Monsieur le 
 Marquis, and when I told him of it he laughed at 
 me." 
 
 " 'Twas but a boy and girl affair, de Kersaint, 
 not worth mentioning," answered the marquis. 
 
 " But he came here? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, monsieur," cried Anne. " But with 
 out an invitation, and, indeed, unwelcome. The 
 mystery is now over. Retire, gentlemen, I beg of 
 you. This has been too much for me." 
 
 The marquis started to speak, when something 
 caught his eye and he stopped as if petrified. Re 
 sisting his first impulse to cry out, he slipped 
 around to the table near the screen, and covering it 
 with his person remained silent, his gaze fixed in 
 cold suspicion upon his grand-daughter. As for de 
 Kersaint, he would let him fight his own battle; af- 
 
 280
 
 De Vitre Pays for his Life 
 
 terward he had other plans. De Kersaint stopped 
 and thought a moment. 
 
 " You came," he said at last to de Vitre, who 
 stood pale and haggard with folded arms before 
 him, " without invitation? " 
 
 " I have said so." 
 
 " Unwelcome? " 
 
 "Alas! yes." 
 
 " Mademoiselle did beg him to retire," broke in 
 Jean-Renaud. " I heard her." 
 
 " And monsieur would not go aw^y," added Jo- 
 sette, who had regained her voice. 
 
 " Your attentions were not pleasing to made 
 moiselle, then? " 
 
 " No, monsieur, I fear not." 
 
 " By God, sir! " cried the Frenchman in sudden 
 passion, " you are my executive officer, my trusted 
 subordinate, but if we were not about to sail I would 
 challenge you so that I might pass my sword 
 through you! As it is, sir, you shall be dismissed 
 the ship. I'll not sail with you, you disgrace your 
 uniform! " 
 
 In his anger and surprise de Kersaint had for 
 gotten about the cloak and the spy, it seemed. 
 
 " Monsieur," cried de Vitre, desperately, at this 
 threat, " think a moment. I was mad with love 
 for mademoiselle. She was my promised bride. 
 Never had she permitted me a greater privilege than 
 to touch my lips to her hand. No one would con 
 sider me. I saw happiness slipping from me. Her 
 beauty crazed me. I forgot myself. But 'tis all over 
 now. She does not love me. She has rejected me. 
 19 281
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 Oh, monsieur, for God's sake, crush not a broken 
 man! I ask no forgiveness, only an opportunity. 
 We sail to-night. Give me my place upon the ship. 
 Perchance some fortunate bullet may find my heavy 
 heart. Monsieur, you were a young man once. If 
 you love mademoiselle now, think what I have felt 
 and find some excuse. Mademoiselle," he contin 
 ued, turning to Anne with a meaning glance, " you 
 will not have me, it seems. All the dreams I have 
 cherished are broken and shattered. My heart is 
 dust and ashes within me. There is left me but one 
 desire, one hope: since I may not live and love you, 
 I wish to die for France. I have done you some 
 slight service, perhaps, in days gone by," he went on 
 pleadingly, " will you not intercede for me with 
 Monsieur de Kersaint? " 
 
 " Monsieur de Kersaint," cried the girl, 
 touched by the plea, realizing that he had given 
 himself up to save her and her lover, sorry for his 
 misery, " will you not heed the request of Mon 
 sieur de Vitre? You were ever generous, kind. 
 Oh, monsieur, may not that which has moved you 
 to want me " she stretched out her arms to 
 ward him " plead with you to excuse him? " 
 
 " Mademoiselle," said the count, looking at her 
 with eyes full of admiration, " I can refuse you noth 
 ing. I can not forget this, but I can forgive Mon 
 sieur de Vitre. You are excuse enough for any 
 thing. By Heaven, your beauty would make any 
 man mad! Rejoin your ship, Captain de Vitre. 
 Perhaps there may be no more friendship between 
 us, but at least you may do your duty." 
 
 282
 
 De Vitr6 Pays for his Life 
 
 " Thank you, Monsieur de Kersaint. Monsieur 
 le Marquis, Mademoiselle de Rohan, farewell!" 
 
 " Nay, Monsieur de Vitre, I can not part from 
 an old friend thus lightly! " exclaimed the girl, 
 stretching out her arm. He seized her hand, 
 dropped on his knees before her, and rested his 
 forehead upon it. 
 
 " This for life and honour," he whispered, so 
 that none but she could hear. " Think of me some 
 times. Farewell! " 
 
 " Go, monsieur," she said, " and may God bless 
 you! You have the gratitude, the eternal remem 
 brance," she whispered, " of Anne de Rohan." 
 
 " Farewell, mademoiselle," said Kersaint, ap 
 proaching in his turn, " may God speed the day 
 when I may come to claim you again. De Chabot, 
 good-bye. Enavant, de Vitre." 
 
 " Jean-Renaud, attend Monsieur de Kersaint," 
 cried the marquis again, as they passed out. " Ba- 
 sile, withdraw the servants and wait for me at the 
 end of the passage-way by the staircase." 
 
 283
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 GRAFTON WINS AND LOSES 
 
 As the three men and the servants left the room, 
 with an expression of relief so great that she could 
 not describe it, Anne sank down in the chair by 
 the table. She thought her lover extricated at last 
 from his precarious position. Her emotions during 
 the last few moments, when she feared that the mar 
 quis would discover his presence, and then when de 
 Vitre had so nobly interfered in his behalf, had been 
 almost more than she could bear. She forgot for 
 the moment that the marquis had not gone with the 
 others. She had not remarked his suspicious si 
 lence, his strange movement, in the excitement of 
 the passing moments. 
 
 " Now, Mademoiselle de Rohan," he said harsh 
 ly, " since this play has been played out and the 
 actors in. the little comedy have departed, will you 
 be good enough to explain the situation? Will you 
 tell me who it was that wore Josette's cloak; who 
 listened in the armory; whom you have entertained 
 in this room, whom you conceal in your chamber? " 
 
 " What mean you, monsieur? " she faltered, all 
 her terror coming back again. " Monsieur de 
 
 Vitre " 
 
 284
 
 Grafton Wins and Loses 
 
 " De Vitre is a fool," exclaimed the marquis 
 angrily, " and yet I admire the man. He took it all 
 upon himself like a gallant gentleman." 
 
 " Monsieur de Vitre told nothing but the truth, 
 monsieur." 
 
 " Quite so," answered the marquis, with diffi 
 culty restraining himself. He was in deadly earnest, 
 with the suppressed fury of his most dangerous mo 
 ment. " Quite so. I have no doubt he told the 
 truth. It spoke in his eyes. But did he tell it 
 all? You answer not. But what need? Did Mon 
 sieur de Vitre leave this hat on the table? I have 
 seen hats like that, mademoiselle, but upon English 
 heads." 
 
 " Monsieur," stammered the girl. 
 
 " No more faltering! " continued the marquis, 
 pacing back and forth before her. " He is here. 
 A lover in your room, an Englishman, and you have 
 
 betrayed me, betrayed your honour; you " he 
 
 used a harsh word from the camps. " Stand aside! " 
 
 He laid his hand roughly on her arm. She 
 struggled to bar the way, moaning faintly. The 
 door was thrown open, the hangings dashed apart, 
 and Grafton, sword in hand, sprang into the room. 
 At last! 
 
 "Monsieur le Marquis!" he cried, "release 
 mademoiselle! By Heaven, no man lays a hand 
 upon her when I am by, not even though he be her 
 father!" 
 
 " Captain Grafton! " exclaimed the marquis, in 
 voluntarily letting go his grand-daughter's wrist 
 and falling back in great surprise, " you here, sir? " 
 
 285
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 " Why not? I love the Countess de Rohan, and, 
 presumptuous as I may seem, I dare to affirm that 
 she loves me as well. Indeed, sir, since the mo 
 ment I held her in my arms five years ago in this 
 very chamber at midnight, and kissed away her 
 tears, I have loved her. The fortune of war brought 
 me wounded to her feet in Canada, sir, and there 
 I found I loved her still; and, what was more, 
 I learned that she had not forgotten me. She left 
 me behind wounded and ill, but I followed her here. 
 Sir, I have come to claim her." 
 
 " My God! " faltered the marquis, as if dazed 
 by this sudden development of the situation, " and I 
 trusted her to your honour! " He looked years 
 older at that instant, his face blanched and work 
 ing. Grafton pitied him. 
 
 " Monsieur, I pledge you that honour that I 
 left her as sweet and innocent a child as when I 
 first knew her." 
 
 " And yet you came from her bed-chamber even 
 now, and you kissed her at midnight? " 
 
 " 'Twas five years since, sir." 
 
 " Do you love this man, Anne? " 
 
 " More than heaven itself! " she answered, 
 stepping to his side. 
 
 " And you came to take her away, sir, like a 
 thief in the night? " sneered the marquis, his colour 
 coming back as he mastered his surprise and re 
 gained a portion of his self-command. 
 
 " We had gone, sir, a moment since." broke in 
 Grafton ruthlessly, irritated by the sneer, " had we 
 not been interrupted." 
 
 286
 
 Grafton Wins and Loses 
 
 " Mon Dieu, 'tis impossible you can love this 
 Englishman, Anne! " 
 
 " An American, sir " 
 
 " Peace! 'Tis all one. This officer, this enemy 
 of France, this commoner! " 
 
 " Yes," murmured the girl. 
 
 " You love him more than family, than country, 
 than rank, than station, than honour? " 
 
 " More than all the world, monsieur." 
 
 " And you were here alone with him at mid 
 night in this tower? He kissed you? " 
 
 " Yes, monsieur, but I was only a child." 
 
 " You nursed him in sickness in Canada? " 
 
 " Yes, monsieur." 
 
 " Were you about to fly with him this evening, 
 as he says? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And he came from your bed-chamber! Oh, 
 mon Dieu, mon Dieu! " screamed the old man, pas 
 sion, despair, wounded pride, quenched ambition, 
 frantic rage in his voice. " The deep dishonour of 
 it! This from my grand-daughter, this from a child 
 of my ancient house! An innocence gone, a repu 
 tation blasted, a character compromised! " 
 
 "S'death, sir!" burst out Grafton. "Speak 
 you thus to your own? She is as pure as an angel 
 from heaven! As I live, were you not her grand- 
 sire, and an old man, I'd strike you down! " 
 
 " And I thought her," raged the old man, con 
 temptuously disregarding him, " like Caesar's wife, 
 above suspicion. Monsieur, you have betrayed my 
 trust, you have violated my sacred hospitality, you 
 
 287
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 have compromised my grandchild in the eyes of the 
 world, you have well-nigh ruined my house. You 
 belong to a race I have loathed and hated. This 
 old arm, withered as you see, has used up its 
 strength in striking blows upon your people. I 
 would fain have your life, monsieur," he continued 
 sternly. " Nay, I shall have it presently; but before 
 you die you must cover your actions before God 
 and man, with the sanction, the poor sanction of 
 your dishonourable name." 
 
 " Monsieur," cried Grafton in amazement, 
 " what mean you? " 
 
 " Grandfather," interrupted Anne, " I am inno 
 cent of everything except loving Monsieur Grafton. 
 That I can not help. I swear to you that I am 
 as I was when you first took me in your arms 
 except for love." 
 
 " By Heaven, sir," exclaimed Grafton, " are 
 you mad? Can you not see? " 
 
 " Silence! " said the old man. " There must be 
 a wedding here this night. Things are permitted a 
 husband which are denied a lover wedlock covers 
 all. Mademoiselle de Rohan, you must marry this 
 man." 
 
 " 'Tis the dearest wish of my heart, sir," cried 
 Anne. 
 
 " Monsieur le Marquis," said Philip bewildered, 
 "what mean you? Do you consent to my suit, 
 then? Heavens! 'Tis impossible! " 
 
 " Consent? No, monsieur, I demand of you, 
 nay, I order, I command you, if there be a vestige of 
 honour left in you, that you marry this misguided 
 
 288
 
 Grafton Wins and Loses 
 
 girl, that you rehabilitate her in the eyes of the 
 world." 
 
 " The world knows nothing, and there is noth 
 ing to know, sir." 
 
 " In my eyes, then." 
 
 It was a puzzling situation. Philip longed for 
 nothing so much as to call Anne de Rohan his wife, 
 yet apparently by consenting to this ceremony he 
 would be putting some sort of a stigma upon her 
 honour or her reputation. 
 
 " I can not, monsieur, upon this compulsion," 
 he faltered hesitatingly. 
 
 " Philip! " cried Anne, who saw nothing of what 
 was passing in his mind and who heard only his re 
 fusal, his denial of her. " You refuse me? You be 
 tray my heart? Ah, that woman in the locket! Oh, 
 mon Dieu, mon grand-pere, kill me, kill me! He 
 loves me not, I am rejected! " 
 
 She nearly fainted with the shock and the agony 
 of the moment. 
 
 " Monsieur," said the old marquis, his eyes 
 gleaming with anger and determination, " will you 
 marry this girl? Think well before you refuse, sir. 
 The hand of a de Rohan has been offered twice to 
 no one before. Say No, and I kill her before your 
 eyes, and you shall follow her to death. We may 
 wash out the stain upon our honour in blood, per 
 haps, if not in marriage." 
 
 "Enough!" cried Philip, thinking swiftly of 
 the end to be gained and putting everything- else 
 aside. " I take her gladly, joyfully, thankfully; not 
 from any threat of yours, old man, but because I 
 
 289
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 love her, and by giving her my name I will have the 
 right to protect her from further insult even from 
 you." 
 
 " Without, there! " called the marquis, stepping 
 to the hall. " Ask Monseigneur the Archbishop of 
 Vannes to come hither instantly. He has not yet 
 left the castle. Speak to your prospective wife, 
 monsieur, if you will, while we wait. I can prom 
 ise you no further opportunities after you are mar 
 ried," continued the old man, turning to the door. 
 
 It was the one touch of human kindness he had 
 exhibited in the whole interview. 
 
 " Why did you hesitate, Philip? " whispered 
 the girl reproachfully, as she looked fondly at him. 
 " You refused me. You almost broke my heart. 
 To lose you now would kill me." 
 
 " Only because I seemed to be putting a stigma 
 upon you by consenting," he said softly in reply. 
 " Your grandfather thinks that your honour for-, 
 give my saying it demands our marriage." 
 
 " What matter his thoughts? We know." 
 
 " Yes, and I was a fool. You will be my wife, 
 my own, in one moment. You can go away with 
 me with a clear conscience then. And when you are 
 mine let me see the man who will dare question 
 aught!" 
 
 " O Philip, I am so happy! Tis like life from 
 death. I thought you lost, and now " 
 
 The archbishop at that moment appeared in the 
 doorway attended by Jean-Renaud. 
 
 " You sent for me, my dear marquis? " he said 
 blandly, but in great surprise. 
 
 290
 
 Grafton Wins and Loses 
 
 " I did, monseigneur." 
 
 " And for what purpose, pray? " 
 
 " I want you to solemnize a marriage, that of 
 my grand-daughter and this this gentleman." 
 
 "What, monsieur!" 
 
 " And now, too." 
 
 " But, Monsieur le Marquis, did you not say she 
 was betrothed to the Count de Kersaint? " 
 
 " Monseigneur," answered the marquis haugh 
 tily, " here is a strange mischance. I can not tell the 
 tale, but the honour of my house requires a mar 
 riage, now and instantly, between this young man 
 and the Countess Anne de Rohan. I jest not, 
 monseigneur. Morbleul do I look like a man who 
 trifles? You have known me of old, mojst reverend 
 sir, I mean what I say. The marriage must take 
 place!" 
 
 " But Monsieur de Kersaint? " 
 
 " God help him when he knows the truth! " said 
 the marquis. " Will you proceed, monseigneur? " 
 
 " The young man is of our faith? " 
 
 " No, monseigneur," answered Grafton. " I am 
 a Protestant." 
 
 " But you can dispense with that yourself, mon 
 seigneur," interrupted the marquis promptly. " I 
 tell you nothing shall prevent this." 
 
 " If the young man consents to Will you 
 
 bring up the children of this union, should any be 
 born to you, in the faith of the Holy Roman Catho 
 lic Church, monsieur? " asked the prelate. 
 
 " I will, so help me God," answered Philip 
 promptly. 
 
 291
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 " There will be no children," interrupted the 
 marquis grimly. " Will you now proceed? " 
 
 " But we lack an altar, vestments, lights, attend 
 ants, witnesses, marquis? " 
 
 " No altar is needed here, and as for witnesses, I 
 am one, Josette is another, and if you want a third, 
 here 'is Jean-Renaud people upon whom I can 
 rely." 
 
 " Mademoiselle," said the perplexed archbish 
 op, turning to Anne, " do you wish to marry this 
 man? " 
 
 " Yes, monseigneur." 
 
 " Do you love him? " 
 
 " With all my heart." 
 
 " And you, monsieur? " he continued, looking at 
 Grafton. 
 
 " My love and desire, most reverend sir, more 
 than match her own, yet I must say, I protest that 
 this hasty marriage implies no doubt upon the hon 
 our of the lady who takes my name." 
 
 " Hell and furies! " cried the marquis inconsist 
 ently, "who dares to imply such a thing! Mon 
 seigneur, will you proceed, or shall I kill this man 
 before your eyes? " 
 
 The brief words which mean so much and bind 
 so fast were soon spoken. Philip and Anne made 
 the responses, and kneeling before the aged cleric 
 received his benediction. As soon as he had fin 
 ished, the archbishop, realizing that here was a deli 
 cate situation, discreetly withdrew and left the par 
 ticipants in this strange wedding alone once more. 
 As they rose to their feet the Englishman turned to 
 
 292
 
 Grafton Wins and Loses 
 
 the woman, all his thoughts swept away in the 
 knowledge that at last she was his wife. 
 
 " My own, my own! " he cried, taking her in his 
 arms. But before he could press one kiss upon her 
 forehead the marquis intervened. 
 
 " No, sir," he cried, " you have dishonoured the 
 house of Rohan. You have made what amends you 
 could by marrying the girl. That is all. You shall 
 never see your wife again. I shall kill you where 
 you stand. The connection shall end that way. 
 Draw, sir! " cried the old man, shaking his blade in 
 the other's face. " Defend yourself, if you can." 
 
 " I will not cross swords with a man old enough 
 to be my grandfather," answered Grafton " one 
 who stands in such a relationship as you to the lady 
 I am happy to call my wife. By your consent, by 
 your urging, we were married. She is mine before 
 Heaven itself. No man may part her from me. She 
 goes with me." 
 
 " How will you take her hence, pray? " 
 
 " By this window, through which I came," cried 
 Grafton, lifting up his wife in his arms and spring 
 ing backward. 
 
 " A moil " called the marquis loudly. 
 
 The servants came running into the room in re 
 sponse to this call. 
 
 "Ha!" cried the marquis. "The Baron de 
 Croisic's way! 'Tis his tower. You shall end like 
 the lover of the fair Jehane. Jean-Renaud, seize this 
 man." 
 
 Jean-Renaud stepped forward slowly. His af 
 fections were with his young mistress, and he secret- 
 
 293
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 ly admired the gallant Englishman who had won 
 her, yet his duty bade him obey the marquis. 
 
 " Back! " cried Grafton, whipping out his pistol 
 and pointing it at Jean-Renaud. " A step nearer 
 and you are a dead man." 
 
 The man stopped short; he knew decision when 
 he met it. 
 
 ( 'Tis true you have the advantage, Monsieur le 
 Marquis. I can not take Madame Grafton away 
 from you to-night, alone as I am, but be very cer 
 tain that I will come back for her with force that 
 can not be denied. I shall have her if I have to 
 tear down the castle stone by stone. Take good 
 care of madame, sir," Grafton continued insolently, 
 " I leave her in your charge. Back, you cattle! " 
 he cried, swinging his pistol toward the servants 
 and lackeys, who were huddled together in the rear 
 of Jean-Renaud. " Anne, wife, farewell! " 
 
 " Monsieur," said the marquis, striving to regain 
 his wonted calmness, " you may storm the castle if 
 you will. You will not find madame here. When 
 the French fleet sails in the morning we go with her. 
 Now, men, upon him! " 
 
 Grafton discharged his pistol at the nearest valet, 
 and as the man fell he hurled the empty weapon into 
 the midst of the rest. With one look at Anne he 
 turned and sprang through the oriel window. He 
 grasped the rope and slid down it rapidly. 
 
 The men surged toward the balcony. Anne 
 sprang between them. She caught the marquis by 
 the arm and Josette seized Jean-Renaud, but the rest 
 swarmed past them and filled the balcony. One of 
 
 294
 
 Grafton Wins and Loses 
 
 the men lifted a dagger to cut the rope. A deaf 
 ening roar rang out in the night; the man screamed 
 with pain and his arm dropped to his side. Another 
 shot was heard. The crowd shrank back for a few 
 seconds and Grafton reached the foot of the tower. 
 He scrambled down the rocks to find old Jabez, 
 smoking musket in his hand, waiting for him in 
 the prow of the boat. 
 
 " Who fired? " he cried. 
 
 " 'Twas me, yer Honour; I was a-watchin' the 
 winder. I seen yer Honour come out, then I seen 
 the man raise the knife, an' I blazed away at him. 
 I hain't forgot how to shoot nuther." 
 
 " You saved me," cried Grafton. " Shove off the 
 boat. Lively! Break out the oars; we must get 
 away." 
 
 Slocum sprang to the oars and Grafton seized 
 the tiller. The balcony above was filled with men 
 now. The old marquis was there, and Anne his 
 wife. He could spare only a second for a glance. 
 The light from blazing torches threw a dim illumi 
 nation down upon the little bay. A woman 
 screamed. Shots rang out, bullets spattered the 
 water all about them. 
 
 " Are you hit, Jabez? " 
 
 " No, sir; be you? " 
 
 "I'm all right, too; pull, man, pull, for God's 
 sake!" 
 
 Presently they were in the entrance and out of 
 danger. The wind was blowing offshore. The 
 night was mild and pleasant now. The moon was 
 shining. They easily threaded their way among the 
 
 295
 
 The (Quiberon Touch 
 
 rocks. The mast was stepped, the sail set, and the 
 little boat raced out to sea. They were away, -they 
 were free. 
 
 " Beg parding, sir, did you git wot you went 
 fer? " asked Jabez, after a while. 
 
 " Yes," answered Grafton. " The French ships 
 are to sail for Quiberon Bay at six in the morn- 
 ing." 
 
 " An' the leddy, sir? " 
 
 " I married her." 
 
 " Good Lord! " exclaimed the old man under his 
 breath. " Quick work, that! An' you left your 
 wife? " 
 
 " With her grandfather, Slocum. She sails on 
 Le Thesee with the fleet in the morning. Not a 
 word of this to the men, as you value my approval. 
 You have done well and I shall not forget it." 
 
 "Thank Heaven, you have come!" exclaimed 
 Hatfield, as the dinghy swept alongside the gang 
 way of the Maidstone and Grafton clambered on 
 board. " I had almost given you up." 
 
 " What time is it? " asked the captain. 
 
 Before Hatfield could answer eight bells rang 
 out forward on the forecastle. 
 
 " In the very nick of time! " exclaimed Grafton. 
 
 " Look yonder, sir," said the lieutenant, point 
 ing away. 
 
 The ships in the harbour were ablaze with lights. 
 They were getting under way. 
 
 " Ay," said Grafton, " they are leaving this 
 morning, now. The wind has changed. They are 
 going to Quiberon. Square away immediately, and 
 
 296
 
 Grafton Wins and Loses 
 
 crack everything on. We must get the news to Sir 
 Edward before night." 
 
 " And the lady? " queried Hatfield. " Did you 
 see her? " 
 
 " Yes," answered Grafton, smiling, " I not only 
 saw her, but I married her. Come into the cabin 
 after you are on the course and I will tell you all 
 about it." 
 
 20 
 
 297
 
 BOOK VI 
 
 " THE GREA T LORD HA WKE " 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 THE ADMIRAL GETS THE NEWS 
 
 IT was early in the morning of the fourteenth 
 day of November, 1759. The Maidstone was gen 
 tly swinging into Torbay. The wind, which had 
 been blowing hard from the southwest during the 
 night, had moderated until it was now a gentle 
 breeze, so that every cloth of canvas, including her 
 studding-sails, was spread on the frigate to catch 
 and hold the light air. Grafton and Hatfield stood 
 on the weather side of the quarter-deck eagerly sur 
 veying the roadstead. 
 
 The harbour was crowded with great ships of 
 the line, huge monsters, swinging to their anchors, 
 prows pointed out to sea under the incoming tide, 
 now at full flood. The one nearest to the Maid- 
 stone, and consequently the farthest from the shore, 
 was a magnificent vessel of three decks, carrying 
 one hundred guns. From her main-masthead a 
 small blue flag could be seen fluttering, which de 
 noted the rank of the commander of the fleet, a full 
 admiral. 
 
 The different ships of this great armada with 
 298
 
 The Admiral gets the News 
 
 nice seamanship had been anchored in their ap 
 pointed places, and all were in beautiful order. Their 
 sails were furled with the taut smoothness of a glove 
 on a lady's hand, and their ponderous yards squared 
 with geometrical accuracy. Their complicated 
 tracery of rigging and running gear, tautened with 
 mathematical nicety and soaring aloft from the mass 
 of black and heavy shrouds and swifters, springing 
 from top, cross-tree, and yard-arm, in ever-refining 
 and more delicate lines, rose higher and higher until 
 it was focused upon the truck-ends of the slender 
 skysail poles, which terminated the ponderous and 
 towering spars. 
 
 Though weather-beaten and storm-worn they 
 seemed fit for any emergency. Like the veterans of 
 an army, they were ready for any demand which 
 could be made upon them, and they looked it. 
 There was a sense of use, of habit, of action, of 
 power, conveyed in their stately repose on the unruf 
 fled surface of the water that morning, which filled 
 the young men, who were contemplating them, with 
 pride and delight. 
 
 Forward on the Maidstone the foreroyal-hal- 
 liards had been settled away as she drew up the 
 roads, and her number had been made at the fore- 
 royal-masthead. When it had been acknowledged 
 on the flag-ship, the latter had signalled for the frig 
 ate to anchor under her lee. On account of the 
 position of the admiral's ship, the Royal George, 
 well in advance of the rest of the squadron, there 
 was ample room for Grafton to come boldly in head 
 on, with all standing, sweep to port, and make his 
 
 299
 
 The )iiiberon Touch 
 
 anchorage without interfering with any other ship 
 in the fleet. 
 
 This was an operation, however, which required 
 nicety in judgment, accuracy in decision, celerity 
 in action, and perfection in drill and discipline in 
 order that it should be performed well; and it 
 should be well done or should not be attempted at 
 all. The eyes of the whole fleet were already fast 
 ened on the frigate. Her number had been as easily 
 read by the signal officers of the other ships as on 
 the Royal George, and it was well known to every 
 one that she had been with Saunders' fleet off Que 
 bec. No tidings had as yet reached this fleet from 
 that far-off quarter, although they had been eagerly 
 expected. Naturally, it was supposed that the 
 Maidstone had news of importance to communicate. 
 
 Grafton felt that he would be narrowly watched 
 and critically observed by everybody, and he deter 
 mined to do the thing up smartly and with precision. 
 The hard cruising of the past month, to say nothing 
 of their varied experiences since setting forth on 
 the Quebec campaign, had turned his men into as 
 fine a body of seamen as could be found then on any 
 ship afloat. Hatfield was a brilliant subordinate 
 who could be depended upon entirely, and the other 
 officers were men capable in their several stations 
 as well. 
 
 " Now, Hatfield," said Grafton, " I am going in 
 with everything standing. We'll pass the admiral, 
 sweep to port, and drop anchor on the port side of the 
 flag-ship, just where he wants us. I'm going to take 
 in everything together, and I want the thing done 
 
 300
 
 The Admiral gets the News 
 
 smartly. Everybody in the fleet will be looking at 
 us, of course. Pass the word forward that the eyes 
 of the fleet are on us, and that I want the men to 
 show that the Maidstone is up to anything. Not 
 a sound is to be made either, and no action taken, 
 save the necessary movements about the decks. 
 There must be no cheering, and let no man show his 
 head above the rail till I give the order. Pass the 
 word, too, that there will be an extra tot of grog 
 served out when the hammocks are piped down, if 
 we do these things handsomely. Who is at the 
 wheel? " 
 
 " Slocum, sir." 
 
 " That's well. See that some reliable hands 
 stand by the starboard anchor also. Now go for 
 ward yourself and give everything on the forecastle 
 your personal supervision. I don't want any hitch 
 of any kind to occur. Get the men to their stations 
 for shortening sail promptly." 
 
 While the little colloquy had been going on, 
 the frigate, with everything drawing, was gliding 
 along at a rapid rate, dipping and swaying gracefully 
 like a woman courtesying at a ball. They had 
 drawn near enough now to the ship of the line to 
 discern a group of officers attentively regarding 
 them from the high poop-deck. Among them, in 
 front of the rest, in fact, was a stout, heavy-set figure, 
 in whom Grafton recognised the great commander. 
 
 The Maidstone made a superb picture from the 
 flag-ship. There was just wind enough to fill every 
 sail rap full, and she slipped easily through the wa 
 ter, rocking and pitching as gently, as noiselessly, as 
 
 301
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 a summer cloud driven across the sky by scarce-felt 
 breezes. They were drawing nearer to the Royal 
 George with every moment, though still far from 
 her. Now they were lapping her headbooms, now 
 they were abreast of the forecastle. It was time. 
 
 " Stand by to take in the light sails and the fore 
 sail! Man the royal and to'gallant clewlines, the 
 flying jib, and stuns'l downhauls; ' overhaul the 
 sheets and halliards! Man the fore clew-garnets 
 and buntlines! " 
 
 There was a moment or two of bewildering con 
 fusion or so an onlooker would have concluded 
 as the men sprang to their respective stations. The 
 gear was thrown from the pins and led along the 
 decks by the crowding men, the coiled sheets 
 and halliards were got ready for running, and all 
 preparations made. Then there was silence for a 
 space. 
 
 Grafton lifted his hand. 
 
 " Stand by! " he cried. " Haul taut! Shorten 
 sail!" 
 
 He spoke in a low, clear voice, which was yet 
 distinctly audible throughout his ship. As the 
 words fell from his lips the boatswain's mates piped 
 shrilly, the men on the decks made a clean run with 
 the clewlines and downhauls, the sheets were eased 
 off, the halliards settled away, the yards carne down, 
 the studding-sails were dropped from the yards, the 
 booms were rigged in, and in a trice the light can 
 vas was left hanging in graceful festoons from the 
 yard-arms. It had been done beautifully, and the 
 ship had been stripped so far as if by magic. Silence 
 
 302
 
 The Admiral gets the News 
 
 supervened again after the men had cleared the 
 decks for the next evolution. 
 
 "Starboard the helm!" said Grafton. "Man 
 the tops'l, clewlines, and buntlines! Jib downhaul, 
 the spanker outhaul! Hands by the tops'l sheets 
 and halliards! Haul taut! Let go the'tops'l sheets! 
 Clew up! Down jib! Out with the spanker! Hard- 
 a-starboard! " 
 
 As this rapid succession of bewildering orders 
 were carried out, like a great bird the ship swept 
 gracefully up into the wind. Presently, as she head 
 ed for the flag-ship still sweeping to port, the top 
 sails shivered in the breeze; with nothing drawing 
 her way was already greatly checked, she was almost 
 at a standstill, though she was still swinging around 
 in that long, graceful curve. 
 
 " Settle away the tops'l halliards! Clew down! " 
 shouted Grafton. " Round in the braces! " 
 
 She had swung farther now. Her broadside 
 was opening toward the flag-ship. Her way was al 
 most checked. Her headbooms were overreach 
 ing the quarter of the other vessel, she was quite in 
 the designated position now. 
 
 " Right the helm! Stand by the starboard an 
 chor! Man the spanker brails! Let go the star 
 board anchor! Brail in! " 
 
 With a mighty plunge the great anchor dropped 
 into the still waters of the bay. The hempen cable 
 rushed through the hawse-pipes, the ship surged 
 slowly ahead a moment, and then, her way checked 
 by the pull of the cable and the flooding tide as well, 
 she stopped, settled back, and slowly dropped 
 
 303
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 astern, where she swung to the full scope of the 
 cable. She had come to rest exactly where she 
 should be. It could not have been more deftly done 
 if she had been picked up and set down in the desig 
 nated spot. 
 
 " All hands furl sail! Lay aloft, topmen! " called 
 out Grafton, a note of triumph in his voice. 
 
 In an instant the shrouds of his frigate were 
 black with men swarming aloft, the light yard men, 
 of course, in the lead. With nimble feet they ran 
 up the shaking rigging, laid out on the broad yard- 
 arms, and began to roll up the drooping canvas. 
 
 Old Hawke lifted and waved his hand toward 
 the frigate, and, as if it had been a signal, a thousand 
 throats on his own ship sent forth a ringing cheer of 
 acknowledgment and greeting. 
 
 The men had been watching the movements of 
 the Maidstone with intense interest and apprecia 
 tion. They knew good seamanship when they saw 
 it. Hawke was a thorough sailor and would toler 
 ate no one who was not, in any ship or fleet he com 
 manded. Grafton's heart swelled with pride and 
 pleasure as he lifted his hat and waved it toward his 
 generous superior in grateful acknowledgment. 
 And, indeed, never had a delicate manoeuvre been 
 more gracefully and smartly performed. 
 
 As soon as the men, who had finished their du 
 ties most expeditiously, had laid down from aloft, 
 and had begun to square yards and clear up the gear, 
 Grafton directed his gig to be called away, and tem 
 porarily relinquishing the charge of the ship to Hat- 
 field, he repaired on board the flag-ship. He was 
 
 304
 
 The Admiral gets the News 
 
 met at the gangway of the latter vessel by Captain 
 John Campbell, her commander, and was at once 
 escorted to the quarter-deck, whither Hawke, at 
 tended by his staff, had descended to meet him. 
 
 The young officer found himself in the presence 
 of a commanding-looking man well along in years; 
 indeed, he had just turned fifty-four. His huge 
 form was clothed in the recently prescribed blue- 
 and-white uniform, heavily laced, as became his ex 
 alted rank, which was that of a full admiral of the 
 blue. He wore no sword, and a blue boat-cloak was 
 carelessly thrown about him, for the morning was 
 chill. A laced cocked hat covered his carefully pow 
 dered hair. 
 
 He was of middle stature and very stoutly built, 
 inclining, indeed, to fatness, with huge unshapely 
 legs and a stomach which might have done justice 
 to the typical alderman. In spite of his avoirdupois, 
 however, he carried himself easily and well, and 
 these somewhat unpromising externals were forgot 
 ten when a glance at his face was had. 
 
 His complexion had evidently been fair and 
 bright originally, although the wind and sun had 
 modified its native hue. His skin, too, was singu 
 larly smooth and clear for a man who had spent most 
 of his life at sea, and entirely lacked the tough, leath 
 ery, weather-beaten aspect which was more conso 
 nant with his profession. 
 
 His brow was broad and high; his eyes were of 
 deep and intense blue, and set beneath heavy eye 
 brows. His nose was hooked like an eagle's beak 
 and sharply cut, with thin, well-formed nostrils. Be- 
 
 305
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 neath his short upper lip extended a mouth which 
 showed strength and determination in every line. 
 Indeed, high personal dignity, stern impartiality, and 
 inflexible firmness, blended together with indomita 
 ble resolution, were apparent in his handsome aris 
 tocratic face, even to the most casual observer. 
 
 Here was a man who had that indefinable stamp 
 upon his countenance which marked him as a leader 
 of men; who exhibited that aspect which we see 
 presented in all the portraits, imaginary and ideal, 
 of those who in their allotted span and sphere have 
 controlled forces, shaped events, and determined 
 ends in this world's history. The subtle self-confi 
 dence, which only real and true greatness renders 
 tolerable, and which always goes before successful 
 achievement, was there too. It was present, in fact, 
 in contagious force. Men looked to him and took 
 courage. In his own confidence, they found assur 
 ance to carry out his bold and splendid plans. 
 
 Here was a man to be trusted; a kindly man 
 and a just too, in spite of his imperious sternness, 
 and a man great enough to condescend to details 
 which a nature less large would have considered 
 petty and inconsequent. For instance, he was wise 
 enough to look after the welfare of his men, their 
 health, provisions, and other supplies, with the same 
 zeal and persistence that he would pursue an enemy; 
 and he was strong enough to have his way in bring 
 ing about their well-being, in spite of knavish con 
 tractors and inefficient administrators. 
 
 He was a man loved by the upright and feared 
 by the evil. Unsparing in exacting services, gener- 
 
 306
 
 The Admiral gets the News 
 
 ous in awarding praise, prompt in rewarding merit, 
 but infinitely stern and unbending toward laziness 
 or weakness, and ruthless in allotting blame to the 
 inefficient, he was a leader whose qualities had at 
 tached to his command the best seamen in Eng 
 land. 
 
 As Grafton saluted him the admiral recognised 
 the young man who had sailed with him in other 
 days, and his face lighted up with a kindly smile. 
 After ceremoniously acknowledging the salute for 
 it was a day in which etiquette ruled intercourse, 
 especially in the service he extended his hand. 
 
 " Ah, Grafton," he said in a deep voice, which 
 well accorded with his stout person, " I am glad to 
 see you again ; and let me tell you I never saw a ship 
 brought to in better shape than that one. 'Twas a 
 smart piece of seamanship and handsomely done. 
 I hope our young gentlemen marked it, Campbell. 
 Now, sir, we are brimful of curiosity to know your 
 errand. Eh, captain? My young friends here have 
 been fairly thirsting to hear your tidings. What 
 news? " 
 
 " Despatches, Sir Edward, from Vice-Admiral 
 Saunders. Here they are, sir." 
 
 " And how is my old friend? " exclaimed the ad 
 miral, taking the packet. 
 
 " Well, sir." 
 
 " And that bold fire-eater, young General 
 Wolfe? He was on my ship in the Rochefort ex 
 pedition, and I " 
 
 " He is dead, sir," interrupted Grafton sadly. 
 
 "Dead! Is it possible! When? How?" 
 
 307
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 " The day we beat Montcalm, Sir Edward." 
 
 "Ah, he was a gallant soul! Dead! Poor fel 
 low!" 
 
 " Yes, sir. Shot in the final charge that decided 
 the day in our favour, and died on the field almost 
 instantly." 
 
 " And Quebec? " 
 
 " Is England's." 
 
 " Magnificent! " cried Hawke. " How was 
 it?" 
 
 In rapid words Grafton rehearsed the story of 
 their great exploits in the New World, the officers 
 crowding as near to the admiral and Grafton as they 
 dared, to listen to the stirring tale. 
 
 " Mr. Vernon," said Hawke to his signal officer, 
 when Grafton had finished his story, " signal to the 
 fleet that Quebec has fallen. 'Twill be news they 
 will appreciate. And add that General Wolfe has 
 been killed. Now I shall go below and look over 
 these despatches. You will find many old friends 
 upon the ship, Grafton, I doubt not," he added, 
 turning away. 
 
 " Beg pardon, Sir Edward, but that's not all," 
 said Grafton hurriedly. 
 
 The old man stopped short and looked at him in 
 some surprise. 
 
 " What, sir! Have you more news than is con 
 tained in the despatches? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 ."What is it, pray?" 
 
 " I ran over to Brest, sir, thinking to find 
 
 you " 
 
 308
 
 The Admiral gets the News 
 
 " Ha! " exclaimed the admiral, coming back to 
 ward him, deeply interested in this new subject. 
 " What tidings from there? " 
 
 " Well, sir, when we saw you weren't there we 
 ran in close, knowing the French couldn't get out 
 on account of the strong westerly gale, to find out 
 what we could about their intentions, and I went 
 ashore and happened to be present, unobserved, 
 of course, at a banquet at which Monsieur de Con- 
 flans and his officers were the guests." 
 
 " Yes," said the admiral, his eyes sparkling with 
 excitement, " did you hear anything? Did they say 
 what they intended to do? " 
 
 " They are going out, sir." 
 
 " Good! Did you find out when? " 
 
 " Yes, sir. I heard de Conflans say, yesterday 
 morning," answered Grafton, " the wind having 
 shifted; but it changed again, and came from the 
 west once more, so they have scarcely got to sea 
 yet." 
 
 ( 'Tis news indeed, Grafton, and of the best! " 
 exclaimed Sir Edward, delighted at the prospect. 
 
 " I think they will go out at the first practicable 
 moment," answered Grafton. 
 
 " I hope so. Did you learn their destination? " 
 
 " Quiberon Bay, sir, where the transports are 
 and d'Aiguillon's army. After that, Ireland or Scot 
 land or anywhere they can strike." 
 
 " Glorious news, Captain Grafton! Once let us 
 get at them on the high sea and they will strike no 
 place but Davy Jones' locker, I'll warrant. Hey, 
 gentlemen? We were forced to raise the blockade 
 
 309
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 temporarily by the tremendous westerly gale and ran 
 here for safety. We got under way yesterday morn 
 ing, but were forced back again. We'll try it again 
 this morning immediately. We'll make a fair 
 wind of a foul. Let me see, the tide will turn in an 
 hour and we can get off then. Mr. Vernon, recall 
 all boats and signal the captains to come on board 
 the flag-ship at six bells. Captain Campbell, prepare 
 to trip at once. Let me know when you are up and 
 down. We'll have the ships weigh in succession 
 immediately. Meanwhile do you come into my 
 cabin, Grafton; I wish to talk over the matter fur 
 ther with you." 
 
 310
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 CONFLANS IS OUT 
 
 WHEN Hawke read his despatches and learned 
 therein of Grafton's services, with Saunders' com 
 mendation of them and his recommendation, he 
 forthwith surprised the young American. The for 
 mer captain of the Torbay had died a few days be 
 fore and no one had yet been designated to com 
 mand her, fortunately for Grafton, for Hawke im 
 mediately appointed him to the ship. To antici 
 pate, it was an appointment which met with the 
 favour of the ship's crew and the junior officers, 
 with many of whom Grafton had previously served. 
 He had been first lieutenant of the Torbay, in fact, 
 in other days, and he was therefore thoroughly fa 
 miliar with the qualities of the ship. He brought 
 no one with him to his new command save Jabez 
 Slocum. 
 
 While waiting for the assembling of his captains 
 in the cabin of the Royal George, Hawke had sunk 
 the commander in the friend in his intercourse with 
 Grafton. Indeed, he had always taken a fatherly in 
 terest in that young sailor. From him he heard 
 again, and at full length now, the details of that mar 
 vellous Quebec campaign. From him he also
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 learned the story of his romantic love affair. He 
 entered with the zest of a boy into the spirit of 
 the hardy and daring ascent of the dark tower 
 and the exciting adventures which followed 
 upon it. 
 
 " My lad," he exclaimed at last, " if your wife is 
 on the French fleet you shall have her, by Heaven, 
 if we have to sink every ship in the squadron until 
 we get her! " 
 
 " I have no doubt that she will be with them, ad 
 miral," answered Grafton. " If I know the Marquis 
 de Chabot-Rohan, he is not a man to say things and 
 then fail to do them. I imagine she will be on Le 
 Thesee. That is the ship of the Comte de Kersaint, 
 who was betrothed to her, you know, before I 
 married her." 
 
 He was as yet so little accustomed to his new re 
 lationship that he stumbled over the significant 
 word. 
 
 " Yes," said the admiral, " I have heard that he is 
 one of the best seamen and officers in the French 
 navy." 
 
 " Tis true, sir. I can bear testimony to it. He 
 captured me in the Boxer with this same ship five 
 years ago, and I got to know him then. He knew 
 my father, too, and once fought him. The Renom- 
 me and the Shirley, you know. He's a fighter. But 
 if I can get alongside of him with the old Torbay, 
 sir, I think we can show him a thing or two." 
 
 " I know you can," added Hawke, smiling, " and 
 I shall do my best to help you and give you a chance. 
 As soon as we get out of the channel we'll spread 
 
 312
 
 Conflans is Out 
 
 apart. I have twenty-three ships of the line and two 
 frigates here, and we ought to cover miles of the 
 horizon. As the wind is from the eastward this 
 morning, Conflans will probably get away at the 
 same time we do.- I intend to push hard for Belle- 
 isle. I can't afford to wait for Saunders, though 'tis 
 a generous offer he makes me. By the way," he , 
 added, as a sudden thought struck him, " I must 
 send a frigate out at once to warn Duff. There is a 
 squadron of one capital and four fifty-gun ships, be 
 sides some frigates, down there. I hope 'tis not too 
 late." 
 
 As the admiral reached over to strike a bell on 
 the table, Grafton interrupted him. 
 
 " Beg pardon, Sir Edward," he exclaimed, " I've 
 already taken the liberty of doing that." 
 
 "You have!" exclaimed the admiral in aston 
 ishment. "When? How?" 
 
 " Why, sir, yesterday afternoon we overhauled 
 the frigate Vengeance, Captain Nightingale, and I 
 told him what I had learned, and at my suggestion 
 he agreed to beat down for Quiberon and warn 
 Commodore Duff. I was to come on here and tell 
 you, and as we were sure as to your action, Night 
 ingale was to tell Duff that you'd be hard on the 
 heels of Monsieur de Conflans." 
 
 " You have done well, exceedingly well, young 
 man." 
 
 " Yes, sir, thank you, sir," murmured Grafton. 
 " Trained in your own school, sir, you know." 
 
 " Well, you've been an apt pupil, Grafton, and 
 I'm proud of you. If you do as well with the Tor- 
 
 31 313
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 bay you'll have a flag before you know it. But I 
 will send a second messenger to make sure." 
 
 The admiral struck the bell on the table, which 
 summoned an orderly. 
 
 " My compliments to Captain Campbell and ask 
 him to summon Captain Harrison of the Venus here 
 at once," he said. " No, don't go, Grafton, I wish to 
 go over this matter with you again." 
 
 The next few moments the two men spent in 
 earnest conversation. Grafton told again and again 
 what he had learned in the tower, and Hawke stored 
 away the details in his capacious memory. In a 
 short time Captain Harrison appeared in the cabin. 
 
 " Ah, Harrison, allow me to make 'you acquaint 
 ed with Captain Grafton, who is just in from Quebec 
 with glorious news! " 
 
 " Glad to see you, Captain Grafton," answered 
 Harrison. " The tidings you brought are indeed 
 splendid. The whole fleet is alive with the good 
 news. You can hear them cheering everywhere, Sir 
 Edward." 
 
 " Grafton has also informed me that the French 
 are going out. They propose to make Quiberon Bay 
 at once, gobble up Duff's squadron, embark their 
 troops, and then off for Ireland or Scotland. We 
 must stop that." 
 
 " Yes, sir," answered Harrison promptly. " But 
 do you know, Sir Edward, everybody is rather glad 
 they're off. We'd like nothing better than a chance 
 at them, and after the weary months of waiting off 
 the harbour mouth anything is welcome. We re 
 joice over " 
 
 314
 
 Conflans is Out 
 
 The officer stopped, abashed under Hawke's 
 cold glance at him, on account of the indiscreet 
 comments into which his enthusiasm had betrayed 
 him. The admiral looked at him sternly for a mo 
 ment, as if to reprove him, and then broke into 
 laughter, to Harrison's great relief. 
 
 " Egad! " he said, " I believe I am glad of it 
 too, Harrison. I want nothing better than a chance 
 at them myself. Blockading is weary work. Well, 
 perhaps we may get at them now. By the way, is 
 the Venus ready to sail? " 
 
 " On the instant, sir," returned the other 
 promptly. " I'd like to see the vessel in your com 
 mand that wasn't ready for anything on the instant," 
 he added under his breath; not so low, however, 
 but the admiral heard him, although he made no 
 comment except to smile at this testimony to 
 the high standard of efficiency he maintained in his 
 fleet. 
 
 " Well, sir, you will weigh anchor at once and 
 make the best of your way to Quiberon. Nightin 
 gale, in the Vengeance, is already on the way there 
 with a warning, but two messengers are better than 
 one; we'll try and make it certain. Don't spare any 
 thing. You've a swift ship and you ought to pass 
 Brest before the French get fairly out of it. They 
 are a lubberly lot, and it will take time for them to 
 get to sea. Give Ushant a wide berth too. Tell 
 Duff to get to sea at once and that I am coming. 
 Don't get captured! " 
 
 " No, sir," answered the young captain, fairly 
 dancing out of the room in his delight. 
 
 315
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 " May I ask another favour, Sir Edward?" asked 
 Grafton, as Harrison left the room. 
 
 " What! " exclaimed Hawke, " are you not satis 
 fied with the Torbay? " 
 
 " Yes, more than satisfied, but my first lieuten 
 ant on the Maidstone is a first-class fellow, and " 
 
 " He may have the frigate," answered Hawke. 
 " Do you go over there and get your things and shift 
 them to the Torbay. Tell him that I shall want him 
 to keep ahead of the fleet and to starboard just 
 within signaling distance. The Coventry will be in 
 the same position to larboard. I want a bright look 
 out kept for Conflans too." 
 
 Hawke had caused the news of the prospective 
 sailing of the French fleet to be sent through his 
 own fleet, and at nine o'clock, having completed his 
 own preparations, the captains, having been duly 
 summoned by signal in accordance with his pre 
 vious orders, repaired to the flag-ship. 
 
 They at once reported to him below in his cabin. 
 The little group of men completely filled the great 
 cabin. They were a rare body of officers, most of 
 them trained by Hawke himself in his own school. 
 Some of them had been with him in that brilliant 
 battle twelve years before in which he had swept 
 down in force and smashed the gallant L'Etenduere 
 in the very seas in which he was about to attempt to 
 crush Conflans. All of them had participated with 
 him in the rigours of the long blockade of Brest he 
 had so vigorously maintained since early in the pres 
 ent year. 
 
 Among them were men like Campbell, Speke, 
 316
 
 Conflans is Out 
 
 Denis, Rowley, O'Brien, Baird, Stanhope, Storr, 
 and Bentley, who were to win an immortal name in 
 the day of battle approaching. No less than six of 
 them were of noble birth, and all were men of in 
 fluence and station, except Campbell, whose well- 
 known worth more than counterbalanced the then 
 great disadvantage of humble birth and station un 
 der which he laboured. With them, too, was the 
 great and gallant Keppel, afterward so unfortunate 
 in his battle with d'Orvilliers; and another whose 
 name was destined to be scarcely less famous than 
 that of Hawke himself, Richard, Viscount Howe, 
 then commanding the Magnanime. Tall, lean, 
 swarthy of visage, which gave him the sobriquet of 
 " Black Dick," he put in practice the lessons he had 
 learned under Hawke, on the " glorious first of 
 June," thirty-five years later, when, with an inferior 
 force, he utterly defeated Villaret-Joyeuse. 
 
 Among such a galaxy of nautical stars Grafton 
 kept himself modestly in the background; but with 
 seamanlike frankness and generosity when they 
 heard of his exploits, they extended to him a hearty 
 welcome and forced him in the first rank with genu 
 ine and hearty admiration. He, too, was to show 
 himself worthy of the honours and responsibilities 
 which were heaped upon him a fit member of that 
 gallant band. 
 
 " Gentlemen, I am glad to see you," said Hawke 
 affectionately, scanning the faces of the men about 
 him, some seated on chairs, others on transoms, or 
 leaning against the bulkheads, or across the table 
 before him. " Captain Grafton, whom I have ap- 
 
 317
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 pointed to the Torbay on account of his distin 
 guished services at the taking of Quebec, informs 
 me that the fleet of de Conflans, which has been re- 
 enforced by the squadron of de Bompart, is about 
 to sail for Quiberon. We will at once go in pur 
 suit of them. The Vengeance is gone on ahead to 
 carry the news, and I have despatched Harrison, in 
 the Venus, to warn Duff, and I trust one of them at 
 least will succeed in getting there in time. If 
 not " 
 
 "Well, I know Duff," broke in Vice-Admiral 
 Hardy, the second in command and a most distin 
 guished officer, " he will make a good fight of it, 
 although, of course, he has no chance with his fifty- 
 gun ships; yet I'll wager Monsieur de Conflans will 
 know that he's had a fight on his hands before he 
 takes them." 
 
 " Quite so," answered Hawke coolly, " and per 
 haps it may be just as well anyway they should meet, 
 because Duff would probably be able to occupy him, 
 between chasing and fighting, until we get hold of 
 him. Now, as to our plan of battle," said the admi 
 ral, looking about his cabin. 
 
 It was a day when stern adherence to prescribed 
 rules was invariably insisted upon, and many a gal 
 lant sailor had ruined a reputation and lost a battle 
 since he could not seize a golden opportunity for a 
 decisive step because the necessary manoeuvre was 
 not laid down in the text-books. Hawke was not 
 that kind of a man. They waited for him interest 
 edly they knew him. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he said at last, " I propose to go
 
 Conflans is Out 
 
 at them whenever we see them and wherever we 
 find them. We'll attack them in the old way and 
 make downright work of them, as we did with 
 L'fitenduere, and every man will pitch in. I want 
 no court-martials on this occasion. The Royal 
 George will lead, but if any of the rest of you find 
 you have the heels of her you may go ahead if you 
 can. I can trust you, I am sure. I know you are 
 all right. I have watched you closely in the hard 
 cruising of the past eight months in the blockade 
 on a lee-shore, the hardest thing a sailor can do. I 
 know the stuff that is in you, and I expect you to 
 show it forth. No captain can do wrong if he lays 
 his ship alongside an enemy and sticks to her until 
 the ship's his. If de Conflans, who ought to have 
 at least twenty ships of the line, will wait for us we 
 will approach him with scientific precision. If he 
 does not, we will go at him pell-mell, and may the 
 best ship win! " 
 
 " Egad, sir," cried Howe, who, because he was 
 a viscount, possibly felt himself entitled to speak be 
 fore the others, it being a day when rank was writ 
 ten with a big R, and a title meant a great deal even 
 in the naval service " egad, sir, we'll follow you 
 into hell itself! " 
 
 "We will!" 
 
 " We will ! " cried one and another. 
 
 " I know you will. However, I trust I'm not 
 going that way. Now, as to the order of sailing. 
 The Royal George will lead. The Torbay will follow, 
 at a distance of perhaps half a league, and the other 
 ships in the prescribed order will keep the same dis- 
 
 319
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 tance. By this means, with the frigates, we cover 
 something like fifteen leagues and make the chances 
 of our sighting the French fleet almost certain, and 
 yet we'll be within easy signaling distance, so that 
 we can collect the ships when we meet them. I want 
 every ship in readiness for instant action. Keep a 
 bright lookout at the mastheads to sweep the sea in 
 every direction. I intend to head now for Belleisle 
 as straight as the wind will let us go, but should the 
 course be changed it will be signaled to you from 
 the flagship. Now, gentlemen, I think the chance 
 for which we have been hoping and praying is be 
 fore us. You know how necessary for England is 
 a victory at this moment. We are the sole fleet left 
 to guard the shores of the land we love. Should 
 Conflans get away or beat us " 
 
 " He'll never do that same," cried Denis of the 
 Dorsetshire. 
 
 " There would be nothing," continued Hawke, 
 " to prevent him from landing his army on our 
 shores. Our King, our country, and our homes; 
 the children, our wives, mothers, sweethearts, the 
 women of England, are behind us, gentlemen; we 
 fight for them. Let that thought animate us to do 
 our duty. That's all. And now, before you go, I 
 would take each one of you by the hand and com 
 mend you and us all to that Higher Power which 
 rules on both land and sea. I have confidence in 
 you." 
 
 " And we have confidence in you, sir," answered 
 Keppel for the rest, springing forward and wringing 
 his superior's hand. 
 
 320
 
 Conflans is Out 
 
 " Three cheers for Sir Ed'ard! " cried Stanhope, 
 and the little room was filled with hurrahs. 
 
 Exactly at six bells for old John Campbell, 
 Hawke's flag-captain, prided himself upon the scru 
 pulous accuracy of his movements the Royal 
 George, with her anchors swinging at the bow, 
 gathered way. The wind was coming from the 
 south-eastward and increasing in force, and she had 
 to beat out of the harbour. Far ahead of her to 
 starboard was the Maidstone; the other way, to lar 
 board, was the frigate Coventry. 
 
 With ill-concealed impatience Grafton waited in 
 the Torbay, already hove short, until he judged the 
 Royal George had attained the required distance 
 ahead, and then he, too, gave the signal to trip. 
 The men sprang to the capstan bars; the anchor was 
 jerked from its oozy bed with a celerity like that ex 
 hibited by a crew when they weigh the anchor of a 
 ship that is homeward bound from a long cruise. 
 
 Sail after sail was quickly spread on the old sev 
 enty-four by her eager men, and she ratched out of 
 the harbour on the port tack in the wake of the 
 Royal George, now far ahead and going fast. The 
 wind was coming stronger, and as the great ship 
 swept along she heeled to the breeze and surged 
 rapidly away to the south-west. The others weighed 
 in succession in accordance with their orders. In a 
 few hours the whole fleet would be at sea following 
 in the wake of their gallant leader. 
 
 Early that day the sloop-of-war Gibraltar, twen 
 ty-eight, Captain William McCleverty, hove in 
 sight, and reported to Hawke that the Brest fleet 
 
 321
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 had indeed sailed. They had been seen that morn 
 ing about twenty-four leagues north-west of Belle- 
 isle steering toward the south-east. They were car 
 rying sail hard and seemed to be in a hurry. 
 
 The first and only signal hoisted that day was 
 then thrown from the mizzen royal masthead of the 
 admiral's ship. It was repeated from ship to ship 
 and was everywhere greeted with cheers, and yet 
 the flags composing it spelled but three short 
 words : 
 
 " Conflans is out! " 
 
 322
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 THE ALARM IN THE MORNING 
 
 AT seven o'clock in the morning of the twen 
 tieth of November, 1759, the ships of the little 
 squadron of Commodore Duff lay straining at their 
 anchors in Quiberon Bay. The squadron was com 
 posed of the old line-of-battle-ship Belliqueux, the 
 fifty-gun ships Rochester (flag), Falkland, Chatham, 
 and Portland, and the frigates Minerva and Sap 
 phire, each thirty-twos. Owing to the lateness of 
 the season it was not yet dawn, although the ham 
 mocks had been piped up and one watch was already 
 at breakfast. The bay and the ships were as calm 
 and peaceful, apparently, as they had been at any 
 time during the weary months of the blockade with 
 which Duff, under Hawke's orders, had shut in the 
 transports of Belloc and d'Aiguillon and the selected 
 force assembled under their orders for the descent 
 upon England. 
 
 The commander was still asleep in the cabin of 
 the Rochester when the report of a heavy gun far 
 to seaward attracted the attention of the officer of 
 the watch. Gun-firing was common enough along 
 the shore, where the camps of the enemy lay, but it 
 was rare indeed that the sound of it came from the 
 
 323
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 open ocean to the westward. Of so much impor 
 tance did the officer conceive the incident to be, 
 that he immediately despatched a midshipman to 
 apprise the commodore of the fact. 
 
 Duff sprang from his berth, and, realizing the 
 ominous significance of the occurrence, dragged on 
 a few clothes and ran to the deck. As he dressed, 
 the commodore heard the firing, which had been 
 repeated again and again. It was evident from the 
 regularity of the discharge that it came from a sin 
 gle ship. The darkness prevented them from dis 
 covering what ship it was, though from the steadily 
 increasing volume of sound the vessel was rapidly 
 coming in. Indeed, from the flashes of light which 
 marked the several discharges they judged that she 
 must be even now approaching the Cardinals. 
 
 Duff and his officers on deck peered eagerly to 
 seaward, waiting in anxious expectation for the ad 
 vent of the stranger. Meanwhile, a preparatory sig 
 nal, which bade the other ships get in readiness to 
 weigh anchor, was made by means of lanterns from 
 the Rochester. Quick answers showed that the offi 
 cers of the little squadron were also awake to the 
 incident and already on the alert. It was evident to 
 every one that the sound could only have been 
 caused by a ship signaling. Urgent danger alone 
 would account for the continuous discharges. Sig 
 nals to an English squadron would only be made by 
 an English ship. They could only mean that a 
 French fleet was making for the harbour. 
 
 Duff uneasily waited a few moments longer, and 
 presently, reasoning the affair out, determined to get 
 
 324
 
 The Alarm in the Morning 
 
 to sea at once. He realized that it was more than 
 probable that the strong westerly gales which had 
 prevailed during the past week had forced Hawke 
 to raise the blockade, and that the Brest fleet had 
 got out a few days before when the gale had abated, 
 before the English ships could get back to their sta 
 tion. Naturally their destination would be Quibe- 
 ron. If he were caught in the confines of the lit 
 tle bay he would be lost. Out at sea he could at 
 least make a run for it. There was, of course, a 
 chance nay, more than a chance, a certainty that 
 old Hawke would be hard on the heels of the 
 French, who would be in such force that resist 
 ance on the part of Duff's little squadron would be 
 madness. 
 
 Having at last made up his mind, he acted with 
 the promptness of a sailor. It were better to lose 
 no time, and the ships of his squadron were sig 
 naled to put to sea immediately. By their com 
 mander's direction, they did not even wait to weigh 
 anchor, but cut cables as fast as sail could be made, 
 and, favoured by a strong easterly breeze, rushed 
 for the narrow entrance of the bay. The Belliqueux, 
 which happened to lie farthest out, was the first to 
 get under way. She was followed by the other ships 
 in quick succession. 
 
 Just as they reached the pass between the Cardi 
 nals and the reefs of Le Four they drew within sig 
 nal distance of the incoming ship. It was gray 
 morning now, and from the deck of the Rochester 
 they could make out her number by the aid of their 
 glasses. 
 
 325
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 " ' The Vengeance, Captain Nightingale/ " read 
 the signal officer who stood at Duff's side. 
 
 " Show the answering pennants smartly, sir." 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir." 
 
 As soon as it was discovered on the Vengeance 
 another set of signals was displayed. 
 
 " ' The French are out. Raise the blockade/ ' 
 read the signal officer again. 
 
 "Ah," said Duff, "I thought so! We were 
 none too soon, then. Have you answered them? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, and there goes out another signal." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " ' Hawke is coming!' ' cried the officer tri 
 umphantly. 
 
 " Of course, I expected nothing else," said Duff, 
 smiling with satisfaction. " Now signal the Venge 
 ance to follow the squadron, and then direct the 
 ships to follow the Belliqueux. Signal her to round 
 the Cardinals and beat up to the nor'west between 
 Haedik and Belleisle." 
 
 The stout ships were by this time covered with 
 canvas and were rushing through the water at a 
 great rate, the Belliqueux, which was much the best 
 sailer, being far in the lead. In fact, she had already 
 rounded the Cardinals, and with her starboard tacks 
 aboard was well within the dangerous pass between 
 the two islands, when the wind, which had been 
 northerly, suddenly shifted to the westward. This 
 was most unfortunate. 
 
 The distance the first ship had gained would 
 probably enable her to beat through the pass and 
 round Belleisle, in spite of the dangerous shoals, 
 
 326
 
 The Alarm in the Morning 
 
 known as the Banes de Taillefer, in her path. But 
 for the other ships it would be impracticable now to 
 attempt the pass. In that way lay safety, every 
 where else danger; but there was no help for it. 
 
 Duff gathered his fifty-gun ships and frigates 
 around him by signal, leaving the Belliqueux to her 
 own devices, and then hauled his wind and bore 
 away to the southward under a great press of can 
 vas. But as the breeze was coming stronger every 
 moment, he presently stripped the light sails from 
 his ships, and as the force of the wind increased he 
 was finally compelled to take in the topgallant-sails, 
 and after reefing his topsails set the maintopgallant- 
 sail above them. At this juncture the Venus joined 
 the flying squadron. Harrison had driven her ter 
 rifically, and even now had his three topgallant-sails 
 set; his little ship was pitching and tossing tre 
 mendously. The small signal flags, whipping out 
 in the fierce wind, spelled an ominous message: 
 " The French are close behind." Harrison had done 
 nobly. He fell in with the rest of the fleeing ships. 
 
 Day broke gray and stormy. The clouds were 
 piled up on the horizon and overhead in threatening 
 masses. The wind came in ever more and more 
 fierce squalls from the north-west, drawing gradual 
 ly toward the west. Before it was fairly day the look 
 outs on the maintopgallant-yard of the Rochester, 
 which, with the Chatham, were far in the rear of the 
 other vessels on account of their slow speed, dis 
 covered a sail a little to the north and far to wind 
 ward. There was a slight mist on the ocean in that 
 quarter, and it was not for some time after the day 
 
 327
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 dawned that they discovered that it was the great 
 French fleet. 
 
 The English had been warned none too soon. 
 Another hour and they would have been caught 
 in the harbour. The easterly gales, which had de 
 layed Hawke, had swept de Conflans far to sea as 
 well and proved Duff's salvation. The two observ 
 ers on the different squadrons were cognizant of 
 each other's proximity at the same instant, for the 
 French, who had been jogging along under easy 
 sail in the heavy wind, at once spread more canvas 
 until they were under the same sail as the English 
 squadron. Duff instantly divided his squadron, 
 hoping to part the French fleet in pursuit. Two of 
 the fifty-gun ships and two frigates squared away 
 before the wind and ran toward the shore, inclining 
 to the south-east, and hoping, perhaps, to decoy the 
 French to chase past the entrance of the bay and 
 thus keep them out at sea. The others, including 
 the commodore himself, held steadily on to the 
 south-west, with their starboard tacks aboard and 
 every bowline triced out until they almost ripped 
 the bolt-ropes from the sails. 
 
 Presently one ship of the line hauled her wind 
 and came booming along in the wake of the Roches 
 ter. The other French ships kept on after the group 
 fleeing toward the shore. In a few moments, how 
 ever, signals were broken out on the French flag 
 ship, and in obedience thereto the rear division of 
 six magnificent ships of the line came up to the 
 wind on the starboard tack and also headed for Duff, 
 while the remaining French ships, of which the Eng- 
 
 328
 
 The Alarm in the Morning 
 
 lish counted fourteen, and several frigates, held on as 
 before. The advancing squadron of the French was 
 composed of good goers, and it was soon found they 
 had the heels of the English ships. 
 
 Duff had been elated when he found himself 
 pursued by a single ship of the line. He counted 
 upon easily disposing of her with the Chatham 
 and the Rochester, but when seven bore down upon 
 him the situation was altered. Any hope of success 
 ful resistance vanished. Nevertheless he determined 
 to make a fight for it a bold resolution indeed. 
 Neglecting no opportunity of increasing his speed 
 meanwhile, the men were sent to their quarters, the 
 guns cast loose and provided, and every preparation 
 made for action. 
 
 The news which Nightingale had brought, that 
 Hawke was on the heels of the French, was reassur 
 ing, and remembering Hawke's well-known charac 
 teristics, it was certain that he would not be far away. 
 Perhaps they might see him at any moment. The 
 commodore sent lookouts to the topgallant-yards 
 at once in the hope that they might detect the Eng 
 lish fleet. 
 
 Duff realized that if he were overhauled it was 
 his business to fight his own ships until they sunk 
 beneath him, so that he might thereby detain and 
 occupy the enemy to give their pursuers time to 
 catch up with them. 
 
 Quiberon Bay, with all its dangers to the Eng 
 lish, lay immediately before the French fleet with 
 the wind blowing fair for them to make the entrance. 
 No one could tell what de Conflans* intentions were. 
 22 329
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 He might decide to stay outside and fight, or he 
 might design to run into the bay and wait. If he 
 ran and gained the bay it would be very difficult for 
 Hawke to force a combat with him except under 
 circumstances of great disadvantage. If Duff could 
 detain Conflans outside, either by drawing him after 
 the ships he was chasing, or by fighting him with 
 his own until Hawke came up, he could be of great 
 service to the admiral. 
 
 His duty was plain, yet he and his men, who 
 already realized the situation, looked forward to the 
 approaching conflict with feelings of deep appre 
 hension, which not even their grim determination 
 could remove. They held on desperately, however, 
 and the French rear division drew nearer every mo 
 ment. 
 
 "Aloft there!" at last called out the commo 
 dore. " Do you see anything aft or to windward? " 
 
 " No, sir," answered the man on the maintop- 
 gallant-yard. 
 
 " Go higher! " shouted Duff, " get on the main- 
 royal-yard and take a long look." 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir! " cried the man, shinning up the 
 backstays until he presently reached the royal yard. 
 
 He stepped on it fearlessly, and twining his arm 
 around the royal mast looked over to windward. 
 Everybody had heard the direction, and all waited 
 impatiently for the report. 
 
 "Well?" cried the commodore sharply at last; 
 but before he could finish the question the man 
 screamed out: 
 
 "Sail ho!" 
 
 330
 
 The Alarm in the Morning 
 
 " What is it? " he called. " Can you make it 
 out? " 
 
 " Looks like a heavy ship, sir, over to win'ard 
 an' comin' down fast, an' there's more on 'em, sir! 
 I can see two three " 
 
 " Pray God it may be Hawke! " said Duff to his 
 first lieutenant. " The French are fearfully near. 
 Here, Mr. Coventry," he added, turning to a young 
 passed midshipman, " take the glass and skip up to 
 the mainroyal-yard and see what you can make of 
 them. Lively, sir! " 
 
 Presently the young officer joined the lookout 
 on his dizzy perch. Steadying the glass against the 
 mast he, too, looked long at the approaching stran 
 gers, which the strong gale was driving nearer every 
 moment. 
 
 " Tis a large fleet, sir," he called down from his 
 position, " ships of the line, a dozen sail and more. 
 English ships, sir." 
 
 " That will be Sir Edward without a doubt ! " 
 cried Duff. " Stay where you are, Mr. Coventry, 
 and report what you see. Gentlemen, our fleet is 
 there. We will run no longer. Signal to the 
 Chatham to tack at once. Ready about! Stations 
 for stays! " 
 
 His words were heard all over the ship. The 
 men leaped to their stations, cheering madly as the 
 ship swept into the wind and ran off on the port tack 
 toward the approaching French advance, followed 
 by the Chatham. When they realized their plucky 
 commodore intended to fight his huge antagonists 
 the cheers redoubled in volume, and the excitement 
 
 331
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 finally terminated in a characteristic piece of sea 
 bravado and defiance. The men leaped on the rail 
 of the Rochester and threw their caps overboard at 
 the oncoming Frenchmen. 
 
 Meanwhile the approaching English ships had 
 been discovered by the French commander. A gun 
 boomed out faintly from the flagship of de Conflans, 
 Le Soleil Royal. Signals were flying from the miz- 
 zenroyal-mast of the ship. In obedience thereto, 
 the rear division, which was now almost within gun 
 shot of Duff's squadron, wore and ran off on the 
 other tack. 
 
 Conflans was assembling his ships. What was 
 he about to do fight, or fly? 
 
 332
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 THE FRENCH WAIT BREAK FLY 
 
 AT half after eight in the morning of the same 
 day, the great fleet of the English, which had been 
 driven far over to the westward of their destination 
 by the strong south-easterly winds and gales which 
 had prevailed, had arrived at a point about thirteen 
 leagues due west of Belleisle. During the night, 
 fortunately, the wind had shifted and was now com 
 ing strong from the north-west, changing to the 
 west-north-west. The fleet was headed to the east 
 for Belleisle. 
 
 The order of sailing had been altered soon after 
 the fleet had cleared the English Channel. In order 
 to be within easy signaling distance from both ends 
 of the line, the Royal George had been placed in the 
 centre of the great fleet. Lord Howe, in the Mag- 
 nanime, a splendid ship recently captured from the 
 French, was far to the north-east of the flag-ship, 
 leading the van to port. Vice- Admiral Hardy, in the 
 Union, a noble three-decker of ninety guns, brought 
 up the rear of his division, and was the starboard and 
 rearmost ship, bearing south-west from the centre. 
 Next to the Magnanime, in order, were the other 
 ships of the line, the Warspite, Dorsetshire, Monta- 
 
 333
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 gu, Torbay, Swiftsure, Resolution, Defiance, Re 
 venge, and Royal George, with the Duke, Namur, 
 Mars, Hero, Beaufort, Chichester, Temple, Kings 
 ton, Burford, Hercules, Dunkirk, Intrepid, and the 
 Union last, in the rear of Hawke. Far in advance of 
 the fleet, on either side, were the frigates Coventry 
 and the Maidstone, keeping close watch ahead. 
 
 All the ships were under easy sail, jogging along 
 to the eastward, keeping a bright lookout in all di 
 rections for a sight of the enemy. In order to spread 
 a broad clew, the several ships were widely sepa 
 rated, covering many miles of sea thereby. Hav 
 ing arrived near where he hoped to meet de Con- 
 flans, Hawke had no further necessity for swift 
 movement. He was waiting now and was ready to 
 strike. 
 
 As day broke the admiral made the signal for 
 the Magnanime and the two frigates to press in to 
 ward the shore. The vessels designated clapped on 
 sail, and, like released hounds, sprang away from the 
 fleet, which still continued moving easily along in 
 the rear of them. At one bell, or half after eight in 
 the morning, a gun was fired from the Maidstone, 
 which led the trio, and at the same time she let fly 
 her topgallant sheets, which was the agreed signal 
 that the enemy was in sight. 
 
 Hawke at once flung out signal to form line 
 abreast in order to draw his scattered fleet in posi 
 tion for action. Then, in spite of the wind, which 
 was now blowing stronger and increasing, he shook 
 the reefs out of his topsails and set the topgallant- 
 sails a manoeuvre which was emulated by the other 
 
 334
 
 The French Wait Break- Fly 
 
 ships immediately and changed the course to head 
 direct for the fleet which had been sighted. The 
 ships of the fleet at the time were in a sort of irregu 
 lar bow-and-quarter line which a soldier would 
 have described as en echelon with the Magnanime 
 in the lead, Hawke in the middle, the van division to 
 windward nearest the shore and the enemy, and the 
 remaining division far astern of the flagship and to 
 leeward. 
 
 Presently, as the morning wore on, the French 
 fleet came in sight from the other ships of the Eng 
 lish fleet. Twenty-one ships of the line the watchers 
 counted, with three flag officers, a splendid force 
 indeed. Although Hawke had twenty-three capital 
 ships, besides Duff's four fifty-gun ships, the odds 
 against the French were not overwhelmingly great; 
 not too heavy, at any rate, for a brave commander to 
 risk an action with abundant chances of victory. 
 A long distance still separated the two fleets, how 
 ever, and even with the most earnest will on both 
 sides they could not join battle for some time. 
 
 Until it was decided what the intentions of de 
 Conflans were there was nothing for Hawke to do 
 but hold on; trusting that by redoubled efforts and 
 by carrying a press of sail, which nothing but the 
 urgency of the situation would have warranted, the 
 rear ships might close with the other division in 
 time to join in the battle. The Englishman also 
 hoped that de Conflans would wait for them. With 
 a seaman's ready eye Hawke had at once realized 
 that de Conflans was chasing Duff's squadron. In 
 fact, as they drew nearer they saw the recall of the 
 
 335
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 French rear divisions and Duff's prompt and daring 
 manoeuvre afterward. 
 
 " He's going to make a run for it! " said Hawke, 
 running the tubes of his glass together and laying 
 it down on the signal chest in much disgust, as he 
 saw the French rear division, which was nearest him, 
 wear away from the approaching English ships. 
 "Look at Duff, Campbell," he continued; "by 
 Heaven, he's tacking toward the French! He's 
 about to engage! 'Tis madness! Mr. Vernon, sig 
 nal him to join the fleet immediately." 
 
 " I'm no thinkin' the French'll hae muckle 
 stomach for a fight, Sir Ed'ard," answered the old 
 Scotsman, a worthy but eccentric officer of humble 
 birth, who had first entered the service before the 
 mast and had attained his present rank by sheer 
 merit alone. He was, by virtue of his command 
 of the Royal George, the flag captain. " Eight 
 months shut up in a harbour by a blockade will no 
 
 gie a mon muckle heart for a My certie! " he 
 
 cried, " look at that, noo! I've been doin' them an 
 injustice! " 
 
 " What's he up to, I wonder? " exclaimed the 
 admiral, seizing his glass once more and staring at 
 the French fleet. " Egad! He's hauling his wind, 
 I believe! They are trying to form line of battle. 
 What a ragged line! He has more pluck than I 
 gave him credit for." 
 
 " An' a lubberly lot o' seamen, too," continued 
 Campbell, surveying them critically. 
 
 " Ay, if yon's any sign of their ability, once let 
 us get in touch with them, and but thank Heaven, 
 
 336
 
 The French Wait Break Fly 
 
 they fight better than they sail. When we overhaul 
 them we'll have our hands full." 
 
 " You will be waitin' for the rear division, I'm 
 thinkin', Sir Ed'ard, if the French admiral shows 
 signs of waitin' for us? " 
 
 "What's that, Campbell? I'm surprised!" 
 
 " Now that he's makin' preparations to fight 
 proper like, you'll approach him in a seamanlike an' 
 scienteefic manner " 
 
 " I'll wait for nothing," said Hawke decisively. 
 " I've no confidence whatever that they will remain 
 where they are very long, and I don't intend to lose 
 any chances by waiting for anybody. Gad, I wish 
 I'd stayed at the other end of the line! Look at the 
 Magnanime now, and the Warspite and the Torbay. 
 We are so far astern and to leeward of them all." 
 
 " True, Sir Ed'ard, but the most of the fleet is 
 worse off than we are, remember, an' if you intend 
 to attack the whole French fleet wi' the van ships 
 an' the Royal George we'll hae opportunity an' 
 time to get a bellyful o' fightin' before we are 
 through this day." 
 
 " 'Twouldn't do to set the royals, I suppose? " 
 
 " If you want to carry away the royal masts be 
 fore the French get a shot at us 'twill be the easiest 
 way, Sir Ed'ard. Set the royals, sir! Losh me! 
 I'm thinkin' we'll hae to take in the to'gallant-sails." 
 
 " Let them be! " cried Hawke, after a quick 
 glance aloft. " They'll stand it." 
 
 " Verra well, sir," answered the Scotsman phleg- 
 matically, " you are in command." 
 
 " Yes, and a good thing for you, too. If I were 
 
 337
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 not here," answered Hawke, who knew the man 
 thoroughly, " you'd have had the royals on her 
 yourself, John Campbell. I know you better than 
 you do yourself." 
 
 The captain smiled deprecatingly and waved his 
 hand in denial, but did not presume to contradict the 
 admiral, nor indeed did he wish to. 
 
 The ships were swaying and tossing tremendous 
 ly now, rolling and heaving until they buried their 
 lee-chains under water again and again in the huge 
 green waves of the heavy sea. The decks were at 
 such a slant that only the most experienced seamen 
 could keep their feet. Yet Hawke, in spite of his 
 unwieldiness, made no difficulty about it, standing 
 over to windward leaning by the rail, watching the 
 English ships struggling skilfully in the huge waves 
 to get into some kind of line. The wind was coming 
 over the quarter, the best point of sailing for most 
 of the British ships, and, going at a great pace, they 
 were rapidly drawing nearer to the enemy. 
 
 An ominous yet magnificent picture they must 
 have presented to the waiting Conflans as they dove 
 into and through the huge seas, rocking and pitch 
 ing irresistibly onward. The odds, he knew, were 
 against him. In the number of ships the English 
 outclassed him by two. In the weight of tonnage 
 and gun power there was a greater inequality, and, 
 what was more serious nay, decisive in the per 
 sonnel of the two fleets a vast difference. Still, with 
 other things equal, victories had been won, decisive 
 victories, too, against such odds of force. Haw r ke, 
 for instance, would not have hesitated a second to 
 
 338
 
 The French Wait Break Fly 
 
 engage under such circumstances if he had been in 
 de Conflans' place and without doubt he would 
 have won too ! 
 
 Those weather-beaten old monsters who had 
 clung to the blockade in the wild weather of the 
 Bay of Biscay were handled by men who knew 
 their ships from truck to keelson, from yard-arm 
 to yard-arm ; men who could get out of them all that 
 mortal men could wrest from rope, and canvas, and 
 timber. Some of de Conflans' ships were manned 
 by landsmen, and several of them commanded by 
 officers whose theoretical knowledge was greatly in 
 excess of their practical experience. Strange as it 
 may seem, many of the junior French officers were 
 sea-sick at the time. 
 
 As the English ships came nearer, apparently 
 rising in ever-increasing number and size, out of the 
 gray west on that raw morning, perhaps the heart 
 of the French commander gave way. At any rate, 
 he determined upon another plan. A scheme oc 
 curred to him which was not lacking in ingenuity 
 and which presented some chances of success, al 
 though certainly it was not remarkable either for 
 boldness or hardihood. 
 
 The Bay of Quiberon is one of the most difficult 
 and dangerous of access in the world. From Morbi- 
 han in Brittany a long, narrow, rocky peninsula, 
 Presqu'ile de Quiberon, extends far to the south 
 ward, and with Belleisle and the rocky islands of 
 Houat and Haedik incloses the greater part of the 
 bay to which the peninsula gives a name. Off the 
 lower island, Haedik, a series of dangerous reefs 
 
 339
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 known as the Cardinals, Les Petits et Les Grands 
 Cardinaux, extends to the south-east, the only prac 
 ticable channel leading into the bay being by the side 
 of these jagged needles of the sea. Close to the 
 point of Croisic, on the mainland to the eastward, 
 there is a narrow channel which is terminated by the 
 deadly reefs of Le Four bank, a large and treacher 
 ous shoal. 
 
 Between the Cardinals and Le Four bank, for a 
 distance of several miles, extends the entrance to the 
 bay. This entrance is further complicated by hid 
 den shoals and numerous reefs, upon which the rude 
 tempests, so frequent in the Bay of Biscay, drive the 
 waves with resistless force. The Bay of Biscay, on 
 account of the peculiar configuration of the sur 
 rounding terrein, and by its location as well, is one 
 of the most restless, stormy, and difficult waters 
 upon the globe. Within the Bay of Quiberon there 
 is good harbourage, with sufficient accommodation 
 for all the squadrons of the world, although pilotage 
 is necessary everywhere on account of the erratic 
 grouping of the shoals and reefs. 
 
 As the English fleet drew nearer, de Conflans, 
 who was, of course, provided with capable pilots, de 
 termined to break his line of battle and seek refuge 
 in the bay. If Hawke tried to follow him which 
 he thought unlikely under such conditions of wind 
 and weather as the English were without local 
 pilots they would probably be entangled in the dan 
 gerous waters and wrecked on the shoals and reefs. 
 
 If the English succeeded in getting into the bay 
 then, or after, he intended to place his fleet in a safe 
 
 340
 
 The French Wait Break Fly 
 
 position under the lee of the islands and the penin 
 sula, which would compel Hawke to attack him 
 in succession ship by ship, and from the leeward; a 
 serious disadvantage to the English, which would 
 permit the French to crush the several ships as they 
 came in and on. It was a pretty idea, though not 
 overdaring, but it neglected to take into account 
 the qualities of Hawke. When they turned tail in 
 the presence of such a captain, though they knew it 
 not, they were doomed. To fly was destruction; 
 their only salvation was to fight. De Conflans did 
 not see this, so when he thought his motions led to 
 safety, they only wrought his undoing. However, 
 he was doomed anyway, opposed by such a com 
 mander as the English admiral. 
 
 As they drew nearer, the watching Englishmen 
 saw another set of signals suddenly flung to the gale, 
 and immediately thereafter the French ships turned 
 sharply and cracked on sail, running straight for the 
 bay mouth, then about a dozen miles distant under 
 their lee. As is always the case in retreat, the for 
 mation was lost. The line had been poorly formed 
 at best, and the van division, under de Beauffremont, 
 got away first and ran off under all practicable sail 
 toward Croisic and Le Four. De Conflans led the 
 centre division for the Cardinals, followed at some 
 little distance by the rear division of the Count du 
 Verger, who covered the retreat in his flag-ship, the 
 Formidable, a noble vessel of eighty guns. 
 
 It was nearly eleven o'clock in the morning by 
 this time. All the ships of both fleets were well to 
 the south of Belleisle now. 
 
 341
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 " I thought so," said Hawke to old Campbell, 
 in deep disappointment, as he saw his enemies flying 
 before him, " you were right. There they go off, 
 you see. The cowards! Why couldn't they have 
 stayed here and given us a decent chance at them? 
 They're making for Quiberon, of course." 
 
 ' You'll be givin' it up, noo, I'm thinkin', Sir 
 Ed'ard," remarked Campbell, his voice full of anx 
 iety lest his question should be answered in the af 
 firmative. 
 
 " Certainly not. Wherever they go I mean to 
 follow. Mr. Vernon," he said, turning to his signal 
 officer, " direct the Magnanime and the van division 
 to draw in line ahead and intercept the enemy. 
 Then throw out signals for a general chase. We'll 
 go at them as we can. And hark ye, Campbell, if 
 you don't get this ship up into the line so that I can 
 take part with the rest in spite of the long start 
 they've had, by gad, old man, you shall be broken! " 
 
 Hawke shook his finger at the Scotsman. 
 
 " Never fear, sir," said the old man imperturb- 
 ably. " I'm thinkin' when the battle joins the old 
 Geordie '11 be there." 
 
 " There goes the Magnanime! What a splendid 
 fellow is Howe! " remarked the admiral, smiling at 
 his cool subordinate, as they saw the Magnanime 
 spread more sail, leave the line, and dart ahead. 
 
 " Ay, sir, an' there she's followed by the Torbay 
 an' the Warspite, an' a' the ithers." 
 
 " I wish I had remained in the lead myself, or 
 that I were in the Magnanime now." 
 
 " Rest easy, Sir Ed'ard, we'll be there in time. 
 
 342
 
 The French Wait Break Fly 
 
 Now, my men," said old Campbell, walking to the 
 break of the poop and not making his communica 
 tion through his executive officer as usual, " I want 
 you to get an extra pull on all the halliards an' haul 
 out the sheets as well. Rig wheeps and wet down 
 the sails too. Send the best men in the ship to the 
 wheel, Mr. Botterel," he continued to his executive 
 officer; "those fellows yonder hae the start of us, but 
 we winna let them be too far ahead when the battle 
 is joined." 
 
 " Signal the squadron to send the men to dinner, 
 Mr. Vernon, at eight bells; they will fight better on 
 a full stomach and a tot of grog. I shall be back 
 presently," continued Hawke, turning to his cabin. 
 
 343
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 A STERN CHASE ON A LEE-SHORE 
 
 IT was nearly twelve o'clock, noon, when Hawke 
 went below. He snatched a hasty luncheon in his 
 cabin, and then proceeded to make those few per 
 sonal preparations for battle which his habit and ex 
 perience dictated. His private affairs had been 
 placed in order before he had assumed his present 
 command, and they therefore required no attention 
 now. His beloved wife had died some time before, 
 and there were no letters to be written. Still, there 
 were some things to be done. 
 
 He first put on his dress uniform of blue, heavily 
 laced with gold and trimmed with silver and white, 
 and fastened with gold buttons each having a rose 
 on them, and with his Star of the Bath blazing upon 
 his left breast. As was the custom of many of the 
 captains of that day, he considered it a point of hon 
 our to fight in full dress. The wide cuffs of the coat 
 permitted a view of the full white kersey sleeve 
 edged with Flemish lace which fell over his hands, 
 singularly smooth and well-shaped for a sailor. At 
 his throat he wore a jabot, or fall, of similar lace, 
 which with his ruffled shirt appeared in the opening 
 of his high-buttoned white waistcoat. Tight-fitting 
 
 344
 
 A Stern Chase on a Lee-Shore 
 
 white breeches, silk stockings, and buckled shoes 
 completed his attire. His valet carefully powdered 
 his hair and brought him his sword, a handsome, 
 richly jewelled weapon, which he belted around his 
 waist. 
 
 Having completed his toilet, he withdrew into 
 his inner cabin, as was his custom in similar and seri 
 ous emergencies, and passed a few moments in rev 
 erent communication with his Maker. Hearty and 
 fervent were the prayers of this great captain, who 
 was noted for his clean living and simple faith, in a 
 day when such things were not common if they 
 ever are especially among men of the sword. 
 Then, with a curious mixture of reliance upon his 
 own judgment and capacity, and trust in that Father 
 to whom he had appealed, he re-entered his cabin, 
 wrapped himself in his heavy boat-cloak, for the 
 wind was cold, so late was the season, donned his 
 laced cocked hat with its black cockade rising from 
 it, and went on the deck once more. 
 
 Eight bells had struck and the watch off were 
 still at dinner. Captain Campbell, who rather prided 
 himself upon his forecastle origin, had not left the 
 deck. He was standing on the weather side of the 
 ship at the break of the poop leaning against a gun, 
 eating hardtack and corned beef, like a common sail 
 or, from a tray held by his cabin-boy. The rude 
 fare was sweetened by draughts of Scotch whisky 
 and water very little water, by the way and Cap 
 tain Campbell's rather sparing use of the delecta 
 ble combination in no wise indicated the strength of 
 his attachment for it. 
 
 2 3 345
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 Sailor-like, Hawke's first glance was sent to 
 windward. The weather was just about what it had 
 been gloomy, overcast, threatening, a tempest ap 
 parently brewing beneath the lowering clouds, and 
 the first indications of it already at hand. If any 
 thing, it was changing for the worse, yet the ships 
 ahead of the Royal George in their effort to close 
 with the flying French had increased their canvas to 
 the danger point. 
 
 The British officers were carrying sail with an 
 unusual recklessness of the danger of losing spars, 
 but which at the same time indicated their deter 
 mination to overhaul their enemy at all hazards. 
 They were able seamen all, and as they watched 
 their ships with the utmost care, saving them as 
 they could in every squall which broke across the 
 taut-strung top-hamper, no mischance had as yet 
 developed. 
 
 Far ahead of the flag-ship was the Magnanime, 
 hitherto rated the fastest goer in the fleet. She had 
 been captured from the French not long before, and 
 represented the highest development in naval archi 
 tecture, and was ripping ahead at a great rate. 
 Strange to say, close behind the Magnanime came 
 the Warspite and the old Dorsetshire, good English 
 bottoms both. They were pressing the French-built 
 ship hard, and it was easy to imagine Howe's vexa 
 tion at being thus overhauled. 
 
 Favoured by a slant of wind, they seemed to be 
 creeping up on their rival, of whom they had gained 
 considerably the weather-gage. To the leeward of 
 these three was the old Torbay, also staggering 
 
 346
 
 A Stern Chase on a Lee-Shore 
 
 along under a heavy press of canvas. Grafton was 
 driving her for all she was worth, and the old ship 
 had lost no distance as compared with the rest. The 
 Montagu and the Resolution and the rest were keep 
 ing well up too. Around the flag-ship the other 
 ships were taking station in accordance with their 
 speed and the skill of their officers. 
 
 Of the ships to leeward of Hawke, the Union, 
 with Vice-Admiral Hardy's flag, followed by the 
 Mars and the Hero, were appreciably ahead of the 
 other ships of that division. It was doubtful, how 
 ever, in view of their leeward and rearward posi 
 tion, whether they could get into action before night 
 or no. It was a great race between the ships of the 
 fleet, with victory, or death, shipwreck, destruction, 
 the prize at the end of it. And no keels that ever 
 ploughed the ocean were ever pushed harder than 
 these with such ends in view. 
 
 As for the Royal George, old Campbell was driv 
 ing her like a madman. The old Scotsman was be 
 ginning to lose his phlegmatic coolness in the ex 
 citement of the pursuit; indeed, he had quite lost it. 
 Though he still preserved an outward semblance of 
 calm, his soul was burning within him, and, like most 
 calm natures, his emotions were the deeper and more 
 powerful when they were finally aroused. But if he 
 was not quite master of his temper he was still mas 
 ter of his ship never more so and the way he was 
 sending her along was nothing less than marvel 
 lous. Hawke's eyes sparkled with pleasure as he saw 
 the results of Campbell's seamanship. He still kept 
 all three of the topgallant-sails set, and he had ac- 
 
 347
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 tually flung out his maintopmast stunsail! The 
 boom was bending like a whip in the fierce wind. 
 
 In spite of her great size and she was one of 
 the largest ships afloat then the huge liner was 
 being tossed about like a cork. With everything 
 rap full, and drawing like a tide race, she plunged on. 
 The ebullient water foamed about her narrow cut 
 water and was thrown away from her broad bows in 
 great sheets with every forward plunge. The lee- 
 chains were dragged under the seething green seas 
 with every leeward roll. It was almost impossible to 
 keep the feet, so uneasy was the ship. 
 
 Latterly the flag-ship had improved her position 
 under Campbell's magnificent handling, so that she 
 was about abeam of the Magnanime, although the 
 latter ship, being far to windward with her consorts, 
 had still greatly the advantage in the chase. But it 
 was also evident that the old Scotsman had said 
 nothing less than the truth to the admiral. If 
 the Royal George held on as she was going, she 
 would be in time to get into the melee before 
 nightfall. 
 
 The fleet had, of course, lost all semblance of 
 order. This was necessitated by the circumstances, 
 and implied no reflection either upon its discipline 
 or Hawke's tactics. It was a general chase, and in 
 Campbell's rough phrase, " Every mon for himsel', 
 an' the de'il tak' the hindmost!" It would have 
 been pleasant to approach and attack the French in 
 accordance with scientific naval tactics, but what 
 could be done when they refused to wait for that 
 sort of thing? Their mad flight toward Quiberon 
 
 348
 
 A Stern Chase on a Lee-Shore 
 
 Bay precluded anything but the chase which was 
 now going on. 
 
 The French liners were probably laster, ship 
 for ship, than the English, but, as always happens 
 when two fleets are opposed, the fastest ships of one 
 fleet invariably have the heels of the slowest ships 
 of the other, and in a general chase some of the 
 pursued are at last overhauled and attacked in force. 
 The decision is thus forced upon the fleeing com 
 mander either to abandon his ships which have been 
 attacked, or to join battle to save them, thus defeat 
 ing the purpose of his flight. Therefore the Eng 
 lish van, just as the French rear passed Pointe de 
 1'Echelle, the eastern end of Belleisle, and hauled 
 up for the entrance to the bay, drew within long 
 gunshot of the rear ship. 
 
 It was not because his flag floated over a slow 
 keel that Rear- Admiral St. Andre du Verger in the 
 mighty Formidable assumed this dangerous posi 
 tion; but his native gallantry and heroic resolution 
 made him interpose his strong ship between the rest 
 of his division and their relentless pursuers in the 
 hope that he might thus effect their escape. Of the 
 French captains engaged that day, he, de Kersaint, 
 and possibly one or two others, came out of the con 
 flict with honour not only undimmed, but having 
 written their names high on that roll of heroic men 
 which is the joy and pride of nations. For du Ver 
 ger and his stubborn fighting in the Formidable 
 undoubtedly did much to save the French fleet from 
 annihilation. 
 
 Just ahead of him were L'Heros and Le Mag- 
 
 349
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 nifique, seventy-fours, Le Juste and Le Superbe, 
 seventy-gun ships, Le Glorieux, Le Thesee, Le Ro- 
 buste, and in the lead of the division the ship of de 
 Conflans, Le Soleil Royal. To leeward of this divi 
 sion, in a huddle, were Le Tonnant, the flag-ship of 
 de Beauffremont, and the rest of the French ships, 
 as their speed enabled them to attempt the pass. 
 All order in the French fleet, as in that of their pur 
 suers, had necessarily been abandoned long since. 
 
 As the afternoon wore on the wind increased in 
 violence until it was now blowing a whole gale, with 
 prospects rather worse than better. The November 
 i tempest swooped down from the west-north-west, 
 and was driving the waters crashing upon the iron 
 cliffs and jagged reefs with which the shore abounds, 
 with tremendous force. The breakers writhed and 
 tore about the splintered needles of rock which 
 pointed warning fingers to approaching mariners; 
 and, perhaps more dangerous to the ships because 
 less known and not noticed, the seas rolled and 
 foamed over low banks of sand which were hidden 
 from view until the observer was almost upon them. 
 It was cold and raw, and the men were chilled to 
 the bone until the excitement of the conflict so 
 heated them that they forgot these things. Before 
 both fleets, and in plain sight from the decks, lay 
 that deadliest of perils to mariners, a stern lee-shore. 
 On this gray, gloomy November day, in these 
 perilous waters, amid these ghastly dangers, the two 
 fleets, aggregating forty-four great ships, carrying 
 three thousand guns, and manned by upward of 
 thirty thousand men, the one fleet flying in mad 
 
 350
 
 A Stern Chase on a Lee- Shore 
 
 terror, which appeared to deepen with every mo 
 ment the penalty of flight the other pursuing 
 with a grim determination) which the ever-lessening 
 distance between them and their prey heightened 
 and intensified the reward of pursuit prepared 
 to engage in mortal combat. Nature provided a 
 grand yet terrible scene for the action, a fitting set 
 ting for the horrors of the battle. 
 
 Under ordinary circumstances, no commander 
 would have dared to attempt to make the harbour 
 with a fleet of ships in such weather, but in the face 
 of the howling gale then blowing would have beat 
 en out to sea at every hazard, straining every nerve 
 in a resolute endeavour to make an offing, and thus 
 enable his ships to escape from the perils of that 
 lee-shore. But the circumstances were not ordi 
 nary. Hawke felt that he must destroy that fleet, 
 and destroy it then. If he lost the opportunity now, 
 he might never have another chance, so he relent 
 lessly hurled his great ships upon the flying French 
 crowding together at the entrance of the bay. 
 
 " I ken they're gangin' in all right," remarked 
 the old captain to his admiral ; " the van must be off 
 the west end of Hae'dik noo, sir." 
 
 " Yes, where else would they go? De Conflans 
 evidently hopes to get his fleet past the entrance 
 and then ratch up under the lee of the islands and 
 force us to follow him in succession, and fight him 
 to windward of us." 
 
 " Tis a verra pretty plan, indeed, if he could 
 mak' it." 
 
 " He can't, though," said Hawke. " Look at the
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 Warspite, and the Magnanime, and the Dorsetshire, 
 and the Torbay. They are close on the heels of the 
 French rear now. By Heaven, did ever man have a 
 nobler band of captains than those? Ha! What's 
 that? " 
 
 " The French are beginnin' to bark, I'm think- 
 in'," said Campbell, as a puff of smoke broke out 
 on the Formidable, followed some moments after 
 by a dull roar coming faintly against the wind. As 
 the French ships bore up slightly in the wake of de 
 Conflans, they turned their broadsides a little toward 
 the approaching English to windward and some of 
 their guns bore. Presently L'Heros spoke, and 
 then Le Thesee. But the English ships kept on 
 in grim, dour silence. So splendid was the disci 
 pline enforced upon them by Hawke that not one 
 of them ventured to make any reply whatever, al 
 though the constraint put upon them by the ad 
 miral's failure to signal them to begin the game was 
 heart-breaking. 
 
 " Mightn't it be well, Sir Ed'ard," asked the old 
 captain, who was a privileged character, " to give 
 'em a taste o' our metal? " 
 
 " Not yet, Campbell," said Hawke, " they 
 haven't done any damage yet. We'll let the van 
 get a little closer before ha, there they go again! 
 This grows interesting," remarked the admiral, as 
 the guns of the French rear roared out once more. 
 
 The old Scotsman, whose coolness was now all 
 gone in his excitement, while the previous excite 
 ment of Hawke gave place to a calmness which 
 deepened as the emergency developed, shuffled un- 
 
 352
 
 A Stern Chase on a Lee-Shore 
 
 easily as he watched the French ships firing upon 
 the still English making no reply; but there were 
 limits beyond which even his privileges did not ex 
 tend. 
 
 There was something awful in the silent ap 
 proach of those English war monsters. Still-footed 
 fate itself seemed not more terrible to the French. 
 Were their pursuers never to speak? In mad ex 
 citement, which vitiated their aim, they poured 
 forth their fire upon their menacing pursuers. Into 
 the flame and smoke the English swept on. 
 
 Campbell looked keenly at his commander 
 standing composed and quiet, balancing his huge 
 frame easily to the roll of the ship as he stared out 
 to windward, compressing his lips, his brow bee 
 tling, the sparkle in his eyes and the stern smile on 
 his lip proclaiming the battle fire in his heart. 
 Hawke had marked the hurry and haste of the 
 French ; he could see that their fire was doing little 
 or no damage, and he did not wish to begin the 
 action until his ships were near enough to make 
 their broadsides tell. He was taking a risk, of 
 course, for a lucky shot might carry away a spar 
 and throw an English ship out of action. Still, 
 there was always that risk, and as the advantage of 
 crushing blows was so great when they could be 
 delivered, he boldly assumed the risk and remained 
 silent. 
 
 It was another evidence of that quality and habit 
 of decision which had made him great; which had 
 enabled him to maintain his unheard-of blockade; 
 which had determined the pursuit of that day; which 
 
 353
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 made him resolute to engage; which was to be ex 
 hibited in other ways before the nightfall^ and to 
 his eternal fame! At last the Scotsman ventured to 
 turn to the signal officer, and, taking care that 
 Hawke did not hear his words, quietly bade him 
 bend on the flags and have all in readiness to give 
 the signal. 
 
 " I have them ready now, sir," whispered Ver- 
 non, displaying the flags already bent to the hal 
 liards. 
 
 Campbell would have given worlds to have or 
 dered them hoisted, but of course he dared not do 
 so. He fairly wrung his hands in his anxiety. 
 
 " Surely," whispered the captain to the young 
 man at last, " Sir Ed'ard must order them set now! " 
 
 " Ha," exclaimed Hawke, who did not even 
 yet consider it necessary to give the signal, " how 
 they race along! Did you ever see such magnifi 
 cent sailing? " 
 
 " I'm thinkin' we're doin' pretty weel oursel's, 
 sir," remarked the captain, jealous for his own ship. 
 
 " You are. Look at that stuns'l boom! Tis 
 bent like a bow and quivering like a reed." 
 
 On principle, Hawke rarely ever interfered with 
 the internal administration of the sailing of his flag 
 ships, and for that reason he was more beloved by 
 his flag-captains than almost any commander that 
 ever sailed. Beyond this significant remark, there 
 fore, he said nothing about the advisability of tak 
 ing in the studding-sail, but Campbell was shrewd 
 enough to divine what was in his superior's mind. 
 
 " Ay, Sir Ed'ard," he replied in answer to the 
 
 354
 
 A Stern Chase on a Lee-Shore 
 
 other's unspoken comment, " 'tis like to carry away 
 at any moment; but we can afford to expend it, an', 
 so long as 'tis set, perhaps it gains us a fathom more 
 of distance, an' damme, sir, beggin' your pardon, 
 Admiral Hawke, the old Geordie's just got to get in 
 to the battle yon!" 
 
 " Keep it set if you will, Campbell; indeed, I 
 think 'tis too late to take it in now," laughed the 
 commander; " this is your ship, and " 
 
 There was a crash over their heads. 
 
 " There it goes! " cried the admiral, as the boom 
 parted at the iron and the sail was whipped away 
 from its supports in a moment by the gale. 
 
 " 'Twas a noble stick, Sir Ed'ard," said the old 
 Scotsman, " and hae done us noble service. I ex 
 pend it gladly." 
 
 " Look yonder, now," said Hawke, " how they 
 have weathered on the French! The Warspite is 
 abeam of the Formidable now. The Dorsetshire is 
 close in. The Magnanime is on the quarter and 
 the Torbay is coming up to leeward. They are all 
 within gunshot. Now is our time. Mr. Vernon, 
 show the signal to engage." 
 
 The signal quarter-master ran up the little tight 
 ly rolled balls of flags to the masts with astonishing 
 celerity, breaking the stops ere they had reached the 
 truck. The wind blew the signal flags out like 
 boards. 
 
 355
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 THE BATTLE IN THE STORM 
 
 THE men of the leading English ships had been 
 waiting with feverish impatience for this signal. Be 
 fore they could fairly show their answering pennants 
 their sides were wreathed in flame and smoke, and 
 the first three ships poured in a furious fire upon the 
 Formidable. At the same time Howe, in the Mag- 
 nanime, sheered in to close with the French rear- 
 admiral, with whom he at once joined in fierce en 
 gagement. 
 
 The Warspite and the Dorsetshire, after the first 
 broadside, kept on after the French van, pouring 
 their shot into L'Heros and Le Thesee as they came 
 within range. At the same time the Torbay, to lee 
 ward of the line, opened fire. As she swept along 
 she hotly engaged Le Magnifique and Le Glorieux, 
 who were to leeward of the other three. Grafton, 
 however, kept working to windward all the time to 
 reach Le Thesee, which was heroically supporting 
 the rear-admiral and furiously assaulting the Eng 
 lish ships as they approached. 
 
 It was half after two o'clock. Not much more 
 than two hours of daylight were now left them, but 
 the battle was at last begun. There would be time 
 for much. 
 
 356
 
 The Battle in the Storm 
 
 " You would better send the men to their quar 
 ters now, Captain Campbell, and make preparations 
 for action, as we are overhauling them fast," said 
 Hawke quietly, his face filled with light as he 
 marked the splendid behaviour of his captains. 
 
 The drummers had been waiting below on 
 the quarter-deck in anticipation of just such an 
 order. As the captain nodded his head, the stirring 
 beat to quarters which had called men to battle for 
 centuries and which calls them still when need re 
 quires rang out over the great decks. Singular, 
 that the beat upon the stretched skin of the most 
 cowardly of animals should produce such an effect 
 as followed: 
 
 In an instant the ship was a scene of apparent 
 confusion, out of which, with marvellous speed, the 
 trained and disciplined officers evolved the fighting 
 properties of the formidable machine. The guns 
 were cast loose and provided, the men armed, and 
 everything made ready for the approaching con 
 flict. This done, they settled down at their sta 
 tions and waited; those whose position aloft or 
 on deck permitted them to do so watching the 
 battle ahead. 
 
 Presently the Defiance and the Montagu joined 
 in the melee which now involved a half dozen of the 
 French ships. Seizing an opportunity, the Mag- 
 nanime swung to leeward, and, crossing the bows of 
 the Formidable, raked her fearfully as she passed. 
 At the same time the Swiftsure and the Revenge, 
 sweeping along to leeward, enveloped the unfortu 
 nate rear-admiral in another terrific discharge. 
 
 357
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 Then, as the ships drove ahead, their place was 
 taken by the Resolution, which clung to the wind 
 ward side of the fighting admiral with a bulldog 
 tenacity, and could not be shaken off in spite of 
 the furious fire of the lower ship. The English 
 had made a chopping-block of the unfortunate 
 Frenchman, yet his courage was magnificent he 
 fought on. 
 
 Meanwhile the Warspite, temporarily disabled 
 by an unlucky shot, drifted back through the line, 
 and as the Montagu burst into the smoke of the con 
 flict the unmanageable ship drove into her, and both 
 together fouled the Magnanime. The Formidable 
 from her lee guns poured a damaging fire upon the 
 group grinding and churning against each other in 
 the awful sea. 
 
 The French admiral was fighting with desperate 
 and splendid valour. Though severely wounded 
 early in the action, he refused to be taken below, 
 and sat in a chair on deck directing the combat. 
 His own ship had been almost dismasted. She was, 
 therefore, practically stationary in the water, and 
 every passing English vessel in pursuit of the van, 
 including, finally, the Royal George, made her the 
 target for a free discharge. But the broken ship 
 still fought; her guns roared on. Finally the gal 
 lant admiral was killed, and with a loss of upward of 
 five hundred killed and wounded on board her, in 
 cluding the admiral's brother, the captain of the ship, 
 the flag was hauled down and she struck to the 
 Resolution, which immediately took possession. 
 It was a little after four in the afternoon. For two 
 
 358
 
 The Battle in the Storm 
 
 hours the Formidable had fought half the English 
 fleet. Her action had been heroic. In the English 
 admiral's enthusiastic phrase, his own men were 
 " fighting like angels," too. 
 
 Meanwhile Howe, in the Magnanime, had at 
 last succeeded in getting clear of the two ships 
 which had fouled him, and, after exchanging broad 
 sides with Le Thesee, had furiously engaged L'He- 
 ros, a ship of equal force with his own. The two 
 vessels clung to each other as they surged ahead, 
 pouring streams of shot and fire upon each other, 
 until finally, just at dark, the French ship struck. 
 It was too rough to take possession then, and in 
 obedience to signal both ships anchored. The De 
 fiance and Revenge and Swiftsure were all of them 
 in close action. They were scattered everywhere 
 among the French ships, some of them hotly en 
 gaged with both batteries, and giving splendid ac 
 counts of themselves. 
 
 At four o'clock the Royal George at last got 
 within striking distance. Reeling through the hud 
 dled French, pouring out his broadsides to lar 
 board and to starboard, crashing through sea and 
 smoke and fire, the flag-ship drove on, dealing death 
 and destruction everywhere. Conflans had already 
 rounded the Cardinals, and, having hauled his wind, 
 headed up the bay, followed by a large number of 
 his ships. Hawke ordered the Royal George to be 
 headed straight for them, on the hypotenuse of the 
 triangle, as it were. Campbell happened to be be 
 low in the batteries at the time. Hawke personally 
 directed the movement of the ship, and called 
 
 359
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 the master, the navigating officer in those days, to 
 his side. 
 
 " Lay me alongside that ship, sir," he said quick 
 ly, pointing to Le Soleil Royal. 
 
 " I can't do it, Sir Ed'ard," replied the old man, 
 " there's not enough water off there for us. The 
 ship'll be wrecked, sir." 
 
 ' You have done your duty," answered Hawke, 
 " in pointing out the danger. Now lay me along 
 side that ship." 
 
 " There is no pass, sir." 
 
 " They passed," said the admiral, " so can we." 
 
 " But we have no pilot." 
 
 " Follow them. They will pilot us in. Where 
 they go we can go, and if they strike on the rocks 
 that will show us what to avoid. Enough!" he 
 cried peremptorily. " Carry out my orders, sir! " 
 
 " Very well, sir," said the old master sadly, but 
 not daring to remonstrate further, giving the neces 
 sary directions. 
 
 The ship was right off the Grand Cardinals now, 
 so close, indeed, that a biscuit could have been tossed 
 on them. Every moment might be their last. Even 
 old Campbell, with all his recklessness, when he 
 came on deck during the manoeuvre ran forward and 
 stood between the knightheads, staring down at the 
 breakers seething ahead, and expecting every sec 
 ond to hear that long, shuddering, ripping crash 
 and feel the awful shock which would tell them they 
 were on the reefs. Going at such a pace and in such 
 a sea, one touch meant destruction. 
 
 It was such a scene as almost appals the imagi- 
 360
 
 The Battle in the Storm 
 
 nation. Around them a great huddle of huge ships, 
 tossing and rolling in the mighty billows, were 
 belching forth fire and shot on every side. Out of 
 the driven smoke, under the lowering clouds of the 
 fast-closing winter day, came the hurtling mes 
 sengers of death; and the awful roar of the cannon 
 ade mingled and blended with the shriek and scream 
 of the wind through the top-hamper in a hideous 
 conglomeration of sound. It seemed as if the 
 mighty tempest itself had sought to hold in check 
 the furious wrath of men and had failed. 
 
 The blood of the English was up. They recked 
 nothing of danger. As Hawke reasoned, they might 
 lose a ship or two against the rocks, but there were 
 the French. When he got through with them their 
 coherent existence as a fleet would be a thing of the 
 past. 
 
 He was nearing the ship of de Conflans now, 
 approaching to leeward. The spectators, grouped 
 in thousands upon the adjacent shores watching this 
 awful display of the powers of nature and the pas 
 sions of men, marked the blue flag of the English 
 admiral closing upon the white flag of the French 
 marshal. But before they joined, the captain of Le 
 Superbe, a fine seventy-gun ship, gallantly inter 
 posed with his smaller vessel between his own cap 
 tain and the great liner of Sir Edward Hawke, hurl 
 ing upon her, as his broadside bore, a wild and in 
 effectual fire. 
 
 " Now, Campbell," said Hawke quickly, " keep 
 all fast in the batteries until we are right on her, 
 and then pour it in. Ay, open the main-deck ports 
 24 361
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 for a moment. I'll throw her up into the wind a 
 little to relieve her heel, and we'll settle this fellow 
 with one blow." 
 
 In grim silence, therefore, the Royal George 
 closed with Le Superbe, now wreathed and shroud 
 ed in smoke and flame from her own guns. 
 
 " Go below, yourself, Campbell, to the main- 
 deck and watch those ports. Let no man fire until 
 I give the order. I will con the ship," said Hawke, 
 at last, as they drew nearer; " we will wipe out this 
 one, and then for Conflans." 
 
 They were right abreast now and close aboard 
 of Le Superbe. The huge guns of the Royal 
 George were swinging right and left, converging 
 upon her, the gun captains, burning match in hand, 
 taking long and steady aim. 
 
 "Stand by!" the admiral shouted with all his 
 power in a voice heard in every dim recess of the 
 mighty ship beneath him. 
 
 " Fire! " 
 
 The very heavens were blasted by the concus 
 sion of the broadside. The English ship shrank 
 back and shuddered from her own discharge. For a 
 second it seemed as if the wind itself stood still. At 
 close range such a mighty broadside from every gun 
 on the great three-deckef was hurled upon the de 
 voted Superbe that she was literally torn to pieces. 
 The heavy shot from the forty-two pounders on the 
 main-deck of the Royal George ripped through and 
 through her as if she had been paper. Her masts 
 and spars crashed down, and in the midst of that 
 awful storm she filled with water and sank in less 
 
 362
 
 The Battle in the Storm 
 
 than a minute. There were not twenty people on 
 her who were saved. The catastrophe was so sud 
 den and appalling that the English had neither 
 time nor inclination to cheer. But there was no 
 hesitation on Hawke's part. There were still foe- 
 men on the sea. 
 
 A sheer of the helm brought the English flag 
 ship closer to the French. Another second and the 
 two broadsides spoke. Heeling over and over un 
 der the tremendous pressure of the wind, now 
 abeam of them, with their rigging blown out in 
 huge circles to leeward, the great ships struggled 
 on. The men stood on the wet, slanting decks, the 
 spray beating upon them as they clustered about 
 the guns and poured shot and shell into each other. 
 But only for a moment was de Conflans left alone 
 with Hawke. 
 
 The flag-ship of de Beauffremont ranged along 
 the unengaged side of the Royal George and joined 
 in the action. Other French ships rallied to the 
 support of their commander, and at one time no less 
 than seven of them were firing upon the Royal 
 George. Their very number gave the undaunted 
 Hawke a certain immunity, for they were unable 
 in the midst of the storm to take positions of advan 
 tage, and in their excitement they shot badly, dam 
 aging each other a thing which might be said of 
 all the French ships that day except Le Formidable 
 and Le Thesee, perhaps. 
 
 It was five o'clock now and quite dark. But 
 Hawke coolly fought on against the mighty odds, 
 until at last some of his own ships struggled up to 
 
 363
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 succour him. The Revenge and the Montagu came 
 to his assistance, crashing into the mass of the 
 French surrounding him. Farther away the Union, 
 the Mars, and the Hero, with other ships of Hardy's 
 division, at last within range, opened fire upon the 
 French. But the little conflict continued until the 
 night fell completely, when the French ships turned 
 tail and fled in every direction. The magnificent 
 Soleil Royal was a wreck, masts gone, covered with 
 dead and wounded, she little resembled the proud 
 ship of the morning. 
 
 All that mortal man could do had been done by 
 the English. It was absolutely impossible for 
 Hawke and his commanders to follow the French 
 ships in the darkness in these waters. The wind was 
 still rising. It was blowing a hurricane now. 
 Hawke at last gave the signal to anchor two guns 
 fired in succession. Some of the ships heard it and 
 obeyed, others did not, and beat out to sea again 
 to gain an offing and escape the perils of the reefs 
 and shore. The battle was over, but only the morn 
 ing would tell the story of their success and loss. 
 
 364
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 THE SINISTER EFFACEMENT OF A SHIP 
 
 MEANWHILE, what of Grafton and the Torbay? 
 As we have seen, he had first engaged Le For 
 midable and poured his broadsides into L'Heros 
 and Le Magnifique, and had successfully hammered 
 his way through the French rear until he brought 
 his vessel alongside Le Thesee. 
 
 De Kersaint had well and worthily upheld his 
 reputation as a skilled seaman and a great fighter 
 upon that day, and all of the advancing British 
 ships bore the marks of his prowess. It so hap 
 pened that neither Le Thesee nor the Torbay had 
 been materially injured in their previous fighting, 
 and it also happened that the chance arrangements 
 of the battle, which placed them side by side, left 
 them to fight it out unhindered. Never were two 
 ships more fairly and equally matched in size, gun- 
 power, crew, and captain. 
 
 Grafton had no personal animosity toward de 
 Kersaint. On the contrary, he had pursued him as 
 a foeman entirely worthy of his steel. He knew the 
 man, and that he would certainly be found in the 
 thick of the action. He trusted to compel him to 
 strike, in which case he could at once obtain pos- 
 
 365
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 session of Anne and that was the guiding hope of 
 his heart. Other captains might be fighting for 
 duty alone, or for the sheer love of the combat; he 
 was swayed by all of these emotions, but he fought 
 for love, too for a woman, his wife ! 
 
 He resolutely put out of his mind the peril she 
 would be in. He had to do it. To dwell upon it 
 would have unnerved him. Like most men of action, 
 he was something of a fatalist, and he believed that 
 Providence, which had brought about the present 
 state of affairs, would inevitably bring them to 
 gether again happily in the end. He knew that 
 some one had to fire upon Le Thesee, and he pre 
 ferred to do it himself. He reassured himself by 
 thinking that Anne was stowed away safely in the 
 chain-lockers which was true and that her peril 
 would not be great. 
 
 At any rate, he found himself at last alongside 
 his desire, but to leeward, a fact which, though he 
 deplored it at the time, afterward turned out fortu 
 nately for him. The leeward ship practically has 
 to await the decision of the weather ship, which may 
 attack at pleasure, hence the advantage of the wind 
 ward position. The windward enemy may attack or 
 wait, the leeward must wait or run. 
 
 De Keisaint had no idea of retreating, however. 
 His national hatred of all Englishmen had at last 
 got itself localized and was correspondingly deadly 
 and bitter. He had learned indeed, it had been 
 impossible to conceal it from him that his prom 
 ised bride had been married to Captain Grafton. 
 He hoped and intended to kill the Englishman 
 
 366
 
 The Sinister Effacement of a Ship 
 
 sometime, perhaps on that day of battle, and then 
 marry the woman he loved, as if that previous mar 
 riage had never taken place. Her loss only intensi 
 fied his love for her. 
 
 She did not love him, evidently; indeed, she 
 made no secret of her love for her husband. What 
 mattered it? The passion of the old makes up in 
 intensity and persistence for the lost opportunities 
 of youth. The follies of love the greatest follies, 
 that is, after all are the follies not of youth but of 
 old age! He would have her, anyway, with or with 
 out her love, in the end. De Kersaint had surmised 
 that Grafton would certainly be upon one of the 
 ships of Hawke's fleet, though upon which one he 
 could not, of course, determine. 
 
 The two ships were very close together before 
 they engaged, each reserving his fire for a smashing 
 blow, and the men on the poop-decks were already 
 clearly visible to each other. Grafton could see 
 the huge form of de Kersaint standing to lee 
 ward, looking at the Torbay as she came up. By 
 his side stood the tall, thin form of the old marquis. 
 Behind him rose the burly person of faithful Jean- 
 Renaud. 
 
 They had embarked, as the marquis had declared, 
 then. In order to get a better view of them Graf- 
 ton sprang up on the rail, and, steadying himself by 
 the backstay, stared hard at the little group on Le 
 Thesee. Where was his wife, he wondered, with a 
 word of quick prayer. Anxiety unspeakable filled 
 his soul. 
 
 At the same moment the Frenchmen recognised 
 367
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 him. The marquis pointed him out to de Kersaint. 
 The count flung his hand to heaven in a gesture half 
 of rapture, half of prayer, and shouted an order for 
 Le Thesee to put up her helm and swing toward 
 the Torbay. Joy was in the Breton's heart and sav 
 age determination. The opportunity he had prayed 
 for was granted him. 
 
 " He's coming! " cried Grafton to the men of 
 his staff, as he saw the movement. "To the batteries, 
 
 gentlemen! Tell them to be ready By Heaven, 
 
 he's opening his main-deck ports in such a sea! 
 We'll not be outdone by him. And his is the greater 
 risk. Have our main batteries scaled." 
 
 He welcomed the attack with a fierce pleasure; 
 the distraction of action alone saved him from 
 breaking his heart. A short space of water and 
 two wooden walls separated him from his wife so 
 little, yet the water was lashed into mad turbulence 
 by the tempest, and the wooden walls were pierced 
 by a hundred guns ready to sweep him from the 
 sea. Yet he would have her! 
 
 Both ships were, of course, heeled to the wind, 
 but Le Thesee, being to windward, was forced to 
 fight her lee battery; and the main-deck ports, as she 
 lay over under the furious gale, were so close to the 
 waves that the waters splashed and rippled over the 
 port-sills with every roll. It was reckless trifling 
 with the deadliest of perils, but that he could do so 
 indicated the emotions animating the soul of the 
 French captain. Grafton, being to leeward, fought 
 his windward guns, and the inclination of the ship 
 lifted his own main-deck battery a little farther 
 
 368
 
 The Sinister Effacement of a Ship 
 
 above the water. Still, his own position was also 
 dangerous in the extreme. 
 
 Hawke had opened his main-deck ports, but it 
 was in the stiller waters of the bay that he had done 
 so. Grafton and de Kersaint were yet off the Car 
 dinals, the very roughest, stormiest position in the 
 melee taking place all about them. Their action 
 was madness; yet, if the Frenchman did it in his 
 overwhelming desire to crush the man who had 
 stolen his bride, and now rolled along under his lee, 
 the Englishman could do no less than meet him. 
 
 Simultaneously the two broadsides roared out. 
 Again and again, as the ships swept on, they poured 
 a torrent of destruction upon each other from every 
 gun that bore. The firing upon both sides was fast 
 and furious, but the English, with the advantage of 
 the weather battery, proved the better gunners. 
 Many of the shot from the French ship struck the 
 water and glanced over the English ship, but the 
 steady broadside from the Torbay made deadly 
 havoc on the magnificent French liner. Yet her 
 offensive powers seemed undiminished, and she 
 fought on. The Torbay, too, soon began to show 
 evidences of the terrific pounding she was receiv 
 ing. Both ships were filled with dead and wounded 
 men and were much cut up alow and aloft. 
 
 Grafton fought to win his wife, to serve his coun 
 try, to avenge the shattering of the little Boxer five 
 years before, and with no bitterness in his heart. 
 De Kersaint fought not only for the honour of 
 France, but with a jealous rage in his heart to kill 
 the man who stood between him and his hopes. 
 
 369
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 Neither would be denied. They drew nearer to each 
 other. De Kersaint resolved to resort to a coup de 
 main. Grafton also at last made up his mind that 
 he would have to carry the opposing ship by board 
 ing, which was quite in consonance with his desire. 
 He had even gone so far as to call his boarders 
 away, when a sudden squall struck the two ships. 
 For the moment the wind blew a hurricane. 
 
 The two vessels heeled suddenly under the ter 
 rific impact, going over and over under the irre 
 sistible pressure until they lay almost upon their 
 beam-ends. De Kersaint put the helm of Le Thesee 
 hard down at once. But she did not respond. The 
 water rushed in her open ports. She began to set 
 tle like a stone, righting slowly as she went down. 
 The Torbay was scarcely in better condition. On 
 the return roll to windward the water began to rush 
 in her main-deck ports also. 
 
 "Close the main-deck ports!" shouted Graf- 
 ton, as he saw the French ship going so fast, his 
 first impulse being to save his own ship. " Lively, 
 for God's sake! " The peril of the ship was reflected 
 in his voice. 
 
 The men below sprang to the port-shutters, 
 and in spite of the fact that the water was already 
 sweeping in, by superhuman efforts they got them 
 closed, but not until the ship had been half filled. 
 She lay like a sodden log in the waves, six feet of 
 water in the hold. The gun fire had ceased instantly. 
 
 Meantime, what of Le Thesee? 
 
 Grafton stood in the darkening evening on the 
 rail of his own ship and stared at his rival. She was 
 
 370
 
 The Sinister Effacement of a Ship 
 
 sinking in silence. No human power could keep her 
 afloat. Before his eyes the water was streaming 
 through the open ports and gushing in through her 
 riven sides. It had come so suddenly that there was 
 scarcely time for those below to reach the spar-deck, 
 which was yet swarming with men. Where was 
 Anne? O God, was she below still? abandoned! 
 lost! 
 
 A little group still stood on the quarter nearest 
 him. There was de Kersaint, the bold captain; by 
 his side a young man, his head bound about with 
 a blood-spattered cloth, his arm hanging useless by 
 his side. It was de Vitre. There was the marquis, 
 too, tall, spare, imperturbable as ever. There was 
 old Jean-Renaud staggering aft, and in his arms 
 God of heaven, a woman! The faithful old Breton 
 placed her on the rail and held her there erect. The 
 stop of Grafton's heart told him who. Her black 
 hair was blown away from her face by the force of 
 the wind. She stood, without a cloak, in a white 
 dress, like a bride of death. She recognised him, 
 stretched out her hands toward him in love and 
 appeal. It was his wife. There was nothing he 
 could do. He was helpless. He could only look 
 and look he could not pray, even. 
 
 The French ship was lower now. Her decks 
 were awash. Anne waved her hand to him in fare 
 well. He cried out to her over the dark water. She 
 could not hear. His wife! His wife! O God, his 
 wife! 
 
 The old marquis laid his hand tenderly upon her 
 shoulder, striving to calm her. De Vitre had fallen
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 forward and lay motionless on the rail. Perhaps, 
 happily, he was dead already. De Kersaint stood 
 undaunted, with folded arms, looking at Le Thesee 
 sinking before and with him. The habit of years 
 had re-established itself. He was a sailor first of all 
 now. He would go down with his ship with colours 
 flying. 
 
 Old Jean-Renaud suddenly stepped upon the 
 rail. He took Anne in his arms. What was he 
 about to do? The marquis nodded his head, kissed 
 his grand-daughter's hand, and that faithful Breton 
 leaped with her far out into the black waters. He 
 would fight for her life. Her husband watched him 
 strike boldly out with her, and then a wave rolled 
 over them and they were gone from view. It had 
 all transpired in a few moments. 
 
 " Starboard the helm! " shouted Grafton, awak 
 ening from his daze of agony. " Flow the head- 
 sheets! " 
 
 " My God, Captain Grafton! " cried his first 
 lieutenant, an old and experienced seaman, " what 
 mean you to do? " 
 
 " Luff up toward yon ship! " 
 
 " But, sir, we can't do it. Our vessel is full of 
 water! " 
 
 " Sir, sir," cried the master, " we'll sink in this 
 wind! We must go off or lose the ship! " 
 
 " My God, sir, look at the French ship! " cried 
 another man. 
 
 She had been settling evenly, but at last she went 
 down with a mighty plunge. For a moment the sea 
 was black with heads men struck out frantically 
 
 372
 
 The Sinister Effacement of a Ship 
 
 only to be sucked under in the mighty vortex that 
 followed her disappearance. The last glimpse Graf- 
 ton caught of the group on the poop-deck, de Ker- 
 saint still stood with folded arms looking forward. 
 The marquis took off his hat and looked up toward 
 the flag. " France! France! " he murmured. He 
 made a fine end for a soldier. The English saw it 
 fluttering on the surface of the water for a moment as 
 the mighty spars sank slowly down, and then the 
 waves washed over it. The ship was gone. Not a 
 cheer was heard from the English decks; a groan of 
 horror broke from her men, in fact, as they wit 
 nessed this sinister effacement of a ship. 
 
 Scarcely a minute had elapsed since the last 
 broadside was fired, and now it was over. A few 
 bits of wreckage, a few desperate men clinging to 
 them, perhaps a score out of eight hundred gallant 
 souls who had manned and fought her a moment 
 since that was all! Grafton gave one agonized 
 glance aft. He thought in the darkness he could 
 make out the forms of Jean-Renaud and his wife 
 in the water drifting on. Another moment and they 
 were lost to view. 
 
 " Have we a boat that will swim? " he cried in 
 despair to the master. 
 
 " Not one is left at the davits, sir," answered that 
 officer sadly. 
 
 " Breakers! Breakers ahead! " roared one of the 
 officers forward. 
 
 They were right on the Cardinals. 
 
 " Up with the helm! Hard up! " shouted Graf- 
 ton instinctively. But the sluggish ship steered 
 
 373
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 slowly. For a few moments she held her way to 
 ward the rock. They thought she was doomed also. 
 For himself Graf ton did not care, but for his men! 
 They waited in awful apprehension, but at last she 
 slowly swung around and glided by, and peril was 
 escaped. Right next to her was the French ship 
 Le Juste, spitting fire and shot from her guns at the 
 Torbay. 
 
 "We will attack that ship!" cried Grafton, 
 recklessly turning the prow of his vessel toward her. 
 " Fire upon her. Let her have it, men! " 
 
 But there was no response to his command. 
 His guns were silent. 
 
 " Beg pardon, sir, the magazines were flooded 
 and all our powder was wetted when we came so 
 near foundering," reported the gunner who had 
 just come on deck. 
 
 " Ah, I had rather have gone down on the Car 
 dinals than be thus helpless! " murmured the young 
 commander, quite beside himself with the disap 
 pointments and anxieties of the hour. 
 
 " Sir, sir, some dry powder is found! " cried an 
 other, running up on the instant. 
 
 " Engage! Engage, then! " screamed Grafton 
 fiercely. His mind was so overwhelmed by the ca 
 tastrophe that he could find no relief save in action, 
 and presently from the iron muzzles of his hot guns 
 once more rang out the deadly discharge. A sav 
 age desire to slay, to kill, had supplanted every other 
 emotion in Graf ton's heart. He stood, wild-eyed 
 and despairful, a madman on his own deck, inciting 
 his men to action. 
 
 374
 
 The Sinister Effacement of a Ship 
 
 After half a dozen broadsides Le Juste, badly 
 riven and shattered, sheered off and attempted to 
 withdraw, having had enough of it. Grafton, how 
 ever, was not to be shaken off. He pursued the re 
 treating French ship with implacable ferocity, work 
 ing every gun that would bear upon her. 
 
 As the two ships swept along before the wind 
 Grafton suddenly found himself mixed up with six 
 other ships, one of which happened to be Le Ton- 
 nant, carrying de Beauffremont. Having had 
 enough of the fight, the vice-admiral not greatly to 
 his credit had called these ships about him, and 
 they were all endeavouring to escape to the south 
 ward through the narrow pass between Le Four 
 bank and Pointe de Croisic on the shore. But the 
 young Englishman's blood was up now, and he fol 
 lowed hard on their heels, and the singular spectacle 
 of one water-logged and sodden ship pursuing six 
 ships of the enemy was presented. In their wild 
 haste to get away the French neglected the oppor 
 tunity afforded to capture him. 
 
 As they swept around Le Four and headed for 
 the south, Grafton, who was ignorant of these wa 
 ters, as were all the English captains, headed straight 
 for them, firing on them with his chase guns at the 
 same time, the French making but a feeble reply. 
 He had gone only a few cables' lengths, however, 
 , when, without any warning, in the darkness his ship 
 took ground. She struck with tremendous force 
 upon the rocky shoal of Le Four, and each succeed 
 ing wave lifted her higher and higher and hurled her 
 farther upon the shore. The light spars snapped 
 
 375
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 like pipe-stems at the first blow, and as the ship 
 pounded upon the reef, mast after mast went, until 
 she lay grinding on the sands a total wreck, the 
 waves breaking over her and sweeping her from 
 stern to stem. 
 
 The last shot from Le Juste struck the Torbay 
 on the quarter just as she hit the reef. It sent a 
 shower of splinters inboard, one of which struck 
 Grafton in the breast and hurled him over the rail 
 to windward. He caught feebly at a backstay, 
 shouted a command, and the next moment a falling 
 spar dashed him into the sea. 
 
 For him and for all the rest the battle was over. 
 
 376
 
 CHAPTER XXXV 
 
 THE PROTECTOR OF ENGLAND 
 
 VERY early in the morning of the twenty-first, 
 the day after the battle, the Maidstone, under the 
 smallest possible canvas that could be spread, which 
 would yet enable Hatfield to retain control of his 
 ship, came flying into the bay. During the night 
 the storm of the previous afternoon had developed 
 into one of the fiercest tempests that ever swept 
 over the Bay of Biscay, and the breaking day re 
 vealed a scene of awful desolation. 
 
 The storm still raged with unabated violence, 
 and the British ships which had anchored near the 
 Royal George strained and tugged at their cables, 
 under the tremendous pressure of wind and sea, with 
 such force that their officers feared every moment 
 they would drag their anchors and drift ashore. 
 Indeed, if the English captains, by the admiral's di 
 rection, had not resorted to the tedious and labori 
 ous expedient of housing their topmasts it would 
 have been impossible for them to have ridden out 
 the gale. No ship could remain at her anchors in 
 such a wind with her spars and top-hamper all stand 
 ing. 
 
 Hawke was surrounded by a portion of his fleet 
 
 2 5 377
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 only. Many of his ships, not having heard the sig 
 nal to anchor which was, at night, two guns fired 
 in succession or mistaking the sound, if it was 
 heard, for a dying reminder of the engagement, had 
 beat out to sea. Most of them did not rejoin him 
 for some days. 
 
 Several miles to the northward, off the mouth of 
 the little river Vilaine, could be seen seven French 
 battleships Le Glorieux, Le Robuste, Le North 
 umberland, Le Sphynx, Le Solitaire, L'Eveille, 
 and L'Inflexible and a few frigates, huddled to 
 gether, their crews working like mad, casting 
 guns, equipment, and everything movable over 
 board in order to lighten them sufficiently to enable 
 them to pass over the bar into the shallow waters of 
 the river. Most of them had been severely mauled 
 in the battle. 
 
 The eight ships which had fled with de Beauffre- 
 mont were nowhere to be seen. Far away to the 
 southward they were doing the same thing off the 
 mouth of the Charente. Le Juste, however, had 
 been so badly handled that her officers lost control 
 of her, and she had run ashore on Charpentier reef 
 and had become a total wreck, with the loss of many 
 of her men. The names of these ships were Le Ton- 
 nant, L'Orient, L'Intrepide, Le Magnifique, Le 
 Dauphin Royal, Le Dragon, Le Brilliant, Le Bi 
 zarre. Among these, Le Magnifique was very 
 much cut up, and only kept afloat with difficulty. 
 All of the others were more or less shattered. 
 
 Of the other French ships, Le Formidable was 
 anchored near the Magnanime. Her masts having 
 
 378
 
 The Protector of England 
 
 been shot out of her, she presented no surface above 
 decks for the pressure of the wind, and consequently 
 rode the storm better than any of the ships about 
 her. She was fairly sound in hull, and the English 
 hoped to make her seaworthy and save her. She 
 was the sole prize remaining to them. 
 
 As the daylight came another French ship was 
 revealed anchored in the very middle of Hawke's 
 fleet. It was the unfortunate Royal Sun. She had 
 remained there all night long in the storm. Com 
 pletely dismasted and shattered beyond hope -of re 
 pair by the awful battering she had received from 
 the Royal George, and surrounded by English 
 ships, further resistance on her part was impossible. 
 As soon as de Conflans discovered his situation the 
 unfortunate French admiral cut his cable and ran 
 ashore near Croisic. 
 
 Near the Torbay, high on Le Four bank, lay 
 L'Heros, which had struck to the Magnanime. She 
 had become unmanageable and drifted ashore dur 
 ing the night. De Conflans landed his men from 
 Le Soleil Royal as best he could in the surf, losing 
 many by the operation, and then set fire to his once 
 magnificent flag-ship. As the French admiral cut 
 his cable Hawke had ordered the Essex to chase 
 him. That vessel, however, was unfortunate in her 
 course, and, through no fault of her captain, ran 
 on Le Four bank by the side of Grafton's ship and 
 became, like the other two, a total wreck. Most of 
 the men on L'Heros, which was set on fire on the 
 twenty-second by Hawke's orders, had previously 
 escaped to the shore. 
 
 379
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 Thus the results of the action were: one prize re 
 tained by the English (Le Formidable, eighty), two 
 ships sunk during the action (Le Thesee, seventy- 
 four, and Le Superbe, seventy), two ships driven 
 ashore, one of which had struck during the battle 
 (Le Soleil Royal, eighty, and L'Heros, seventy- 
 four), and one ship wrecked to the southward (Le 
 Juste, seventy). 
 
 Of the sixteen ships left, those in the mouth of 
 the Vilaine eventually succeeded in escaping into 
 the river after the loss of all their guns and supplies. 
 It was impossible for the English ships, even the 
 frigates, to get near enough to attack and destroy 
 them, which did not matter much, for they were 
 practically helpless, without armament or equip 
 ment. They were not only badly shattered from the 
 action, but most of them broke their backs getting 
 over the bars, and never got to sea again. They 
 were subsequently broken up or dismantled and 
 abandoned. 
 
 All the other ships which had fled with de Beau- 
 frremont were in similar case. They were lightened 
 by throwing overboard everything movable, and 
 then dragged far up the Charente, where they 
 rotted away in the mud. Their value as cruising 
 ships came to an end. Both squadrons, however, 
 were blockaded closely until the end of the war. 
 
 The French naval power, therefore, was practi 
 cally destroyed on that momentous afternoon. The 
 result of the battle had been absolutely decisive. 
 There was no organic existence left to the great 
 French fleet. The army of d'Aiguillon was at once 
 
 380
 
 The Protector of England 
 
 withdrawn from the coast, and any project of in 
 vading English territory was abandoned. 
 
 All this had been accomplished at the cost of 
 two English ships wrecked on Le Four bank. The 
 rest of the English fleet, after a few necessary repairs 
 had been made, would be in as good condition as 
 when they had started out from Torbay a week be 
 fore. If they had enjoyed an hour or two more of 
 daylight not a single French ship would have es 
 caped. 
 
 Hawke's long blockade, his unerring pursuit, his 
 relentless dash at the retreating French, when only a 
 portion of his command could be brought into ac 
 tion, the grim tenacity with which he had fastened 
 his grip upon them and held it, the dauntless cour 
 age with which he had fought his ships in spite of 
 the disadvantages of sea, storm, night, and the un 
 known and deadly shore, exhibited him as one of 
 the greatest sea-captains that ever sailed a ship or 
 fought a fleet. When the battle of that November 
 day passed into history it was as " The Quiberon 
 Touch," which capped his fortunes. 
 
 The French loss in men has never been com 
 puted, but it was probably not less than four thou 
 sand, most of whom were killed or drowned. That 
 of the English was something less than four hun 
 dred, most of whom were only wounded. A phrase 
 from the modest despatch in which Hawke an 
 nounced the news of his victory to England is well 
 worth quoting: 
 
 " When I consider the season of the year, the 
 hard gales on the day of action, a flying enemy, the
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 shortness of the day, and the coast they were on, I 
 can boldly affirm that all that could possibly be done 
 has been done. As to the loss we have sustained, 
 let it be placed to the account of the necessity I was 
 under of running all risks to break this strong force 
 of the enemy. Had we but two hours more day 
 light, the whole had been totally destroyed or taken; 
 for we were almost up with their van when night 
 overtook us." 
 
 The bearer of the despatches to the English min 
 istry was stout old John Campbell, who was imme 
 diately sent on in a fast frigate to apprise the Gov 
 ernment of the news. As he rode post-haste from 
 Portsmouth to London to deliver his message, he 
 was astonished at seeing in certain places through 
 which he passed half-burned effigies of his great 
 admiral. The enraged people of England, when 
 they learned that de Conflans had escaped from 
 Brest, had taken this method of showing their ap 
 preciation of their great commander, who at the 
 very time he was being burned in effigy was engaged 
 in fighting the great battle which rendered safe 
 from invasion the shores of England. 
 
 As Campbell rode to the King's palace with An- 
 son, the first Lord of the Admiralty, the latter re 
 marked to him that the King would probably knight 
 him. 
 
 " An' wherefore should I be a knight? I'll hae 
 none o' it," remarked the Scotsman decisively, " 'tis 
 no for me " 
 
 " But think of the advantage, captain." 
 382
 
 The Protector of England 
 
 " What advantage, my Lord? " 
 
 " Have you not a wife, man? " 
 
 " Ay, an' a braw one." 
 
 " If you are knighted she will be ' My Lady 
 Campbell/ then." 
 
 " An' if the woman would be ' My Lady Camp 
 bell,' let the King knight her, if he will, an' no me," 
 responded the stout sailor. 
 
 The old Scotsman stood to his guns to the great 
 amusement of everybody, including the King, and 
 his " braw wife " never became " My Lady Camp 
 bell." His Majesty, however, presented him with 
 five hundred pounds to buy a sword, and before he 
 died he was promoted to be a vice-admiral of the 
 red: two things which pleased the canny Scot, and 
 doubtless his "braw wife," too, more than empty 
 honours, however glorious. 
 
 Hawke was immediately given a pension of two 
 thousand pounds a year, was eventually raised to 
 the peerage under the title of Baron Hawke, of Tow- 
 ton, and, after being made Admiral of the Fleet, 
 died in 1781, Vice- Admiral of England. He left to 
 his children the heritage of a great name, a pure 
 life, and the fame of priceless services to his beloved 
 country. 
 
 383
 
 BOOK VII 
 
 "OUT OF THE DEEP" 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI 
 
 WHAT WAR MEANT IN THAT DAY ON THE SEA 
 
 IN one of the cabins of Le Formidable lay Cap 
 tain Philip Grafton. He had been badly wounded 
 by the splinter (a piece of timber six feet long) which 
 had hurled him to the deck of the Torbay just 
 as she went on the rocks. The moment in which 
 he had been thrown overboard would have been his 
 last had it not been for the heroic devotion of old 
 Slocum. 
 
 Seeing the helpless condition of his commander 
 he had plunged into the water after him, and with 
 superhuman strength, skill, and courage had sup 
 ported him until he had been able to lay hold of one 
 of the floating spars of the Torbay. Slocum had 
 lashed Grafton to the spar and had clung desperately 
 to it himself during half the night. After being 
 tossed about in a sickening way for hours, the piece 
 of timber, with its two exhausted occupants, had 
 been washed athwart Le Formidable's cables. Slo- 
 cum's cries had attracted the attention of Midship 
 man La Perouse, afterward the celebrated navigator 
 
 384
 
 What War meant in that Day on Sea 
 
 and discoverer, on board her, and the two English 
 men had finally gained her decks. 
 
 The old man was not much the worse for his 
 adventure, but Grafton was in a frightful condition. 
 The blow, the shock, the strain of the combat, the- 
 mental agony he had suffered over the loss of his 
 wife, had reduced him to a pitiable state. He was 
 delirious with fever. As he lay in the berth he 
 fought over the battle, heard once more the roar of 
 the guns, witnessed the sinking of Le Thesee again, 
 saw once more his white-clad wife 
 
 Le Formidable was a veritable charnel-house. 
 The surgeon and his mates were utterly over 
 whelmed by the unheard-of demand upon their serv 
 ices. Nearly every officer on the ship had been 
 killed or wounded, and five hundred men in addi 
 tion, before she had struck her flag. She had, in- 
 deed> been fought gallantly nay, terribly! The 
 ward-room and cabins were filled with groaning, 
 raving men, many of whom had suffered amputa 
 tion the day before, and had the tourniquets still 
 screwed on the stumps! In some cases the blood 
 vessels were not taken up until the third day after 
 the battle. The gun-room, the steerage, and every 
 available space between the guns on the lower deck, 
 even the cradles in the hold, to say nothing of the 
 cock-pit, were filled with men in every stage of 
 wound and agony. The ship's medical staff were 
 entirely unable to cope with the situation. They 
 worked like heroes, nor eating, nor sleeping, nor 
 taking any rest, doing their best. 
 
 The chaplain had been killed, and the suffering 
 385
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 and dying were without the consolations and com 
 fort of their religion even. With every plunge of 
 the ship, the wounded, unsecured, unprovided with 
 cots or hammocks (for there were so many that there 
 was no place to lay them except upon the bare 
 decks), were rolled about and thrown against each 
 other with results too sickening to dwell upon. 
 One hideous yell of anguish from every part of the 
 ship mingled with the scream of the tempest. The 
 men prayed to die, and some of the unwounded 
 broke down and became crazed by the awful sights 
 and sounds. 
 
 The officer who commanded the French marines 
 on her, stated to the English prize lieutenant that 
 every man of his detachment had been killed or 
 wounded ; that he had served in the army for thirty 
 years, and had been present on the bloody field of 
 Fontenoy, but he had never witnessed such a scene 
 of carnage. In fact, all that the surgeons could do 
 in capital operations for hours during and after the 
 battle had been to " amputate, smooth stumps, and 
 apply tourniquets." 
 
 Surely never on any ship was exhibited so much 
 of the finished horror of warfare as on this unlucky 
 vessel. The sixteen hundred men who had gone 
 down on Le Thesee and Le Superbe were to be en 
 vied in comparison with the fate of this unfortunate 
 crew. It seems to be a modern phrase to say that 
 " war is hell," but Le Formidable presented an 
 ancient example of its eternal truth. Her captors 
 gazed upon the melancholy ruin they had wrought, 
 and to them came an old saying with a new force: 
 
 " Blessed are the peacemakers! " 
 386
 
 CHAPTER -XXXVII 
 
 THE WOMAN BEREFT 
 
 To return to the Maidstone. She carried in her 
 cabin a passenger nay, two. The frigates, while 
 not daring to take part in the action, had kept well 
 up and as near as they could to the contending ships. 
 Hatfield had naturally marked the Torbay. He had 
 seen the loss of Le Thesee, and had put his ship 
 over toward the place where she had gone down. 
 As he drew near he had ordered out his boats, and 
 at a fearful risk for it was a most perilous under 
 taking to launch a boat in such a sea he succeeded 
 in saving some twenty people from her crew, among 
 them being the Countess Anne and old Jean-Re- 
 naud. 
 
 There were neither accommodation, clothing, 
 nor any other conveniences for the reception of a 
 half-drowned woman on the frigate, yet Hatfield had 
 done his best for her. He had given up his own 
 cabin to her and had made her as comfortable as 
 possible therein, while he beat out to sea during the 
 awful night to save his ship. 
 
 Buckets of sand in which had been placed heat 
 ed shot had raised the temperature of the cabin, and 
 Anne's clothing had at last dried on her person in 
 
 387
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 the warm room. She had been unable to sleep, and 
 had with difficulty partaken of food. Her condition 
 was indeed deplorable. She had seen her country's 
 fleet defeated; her grandfather had been most cer 
 tainly drowned, de Vitre and de Kersaint likewise. 
 The ship on which she had been had gone down, 
 although by Jean-Renaud's action she had been 
 spared much of the horror of that awful scene. 
 What had become of her husband she knew not, 
 consequently she was rilled with grief on the one 
 hand and apprehension on the other. 
 
 Her state of mind, however, was not quite so 
 bad as was that of Grafton, for he thought that he 
 had lost her, and she still cherished the hope that 
 she would be able to rejoin him. If she were only 
 assured of his safety and they could be together 
 again in the end, she felt she could bear all the other 
 hardships and losses, terrible though they were. 
 
 She was ignorant, of course, of the wreck of the 
 Torbay, as was every one else on the frigate, and 
 Hatfield, who had soon discovered her identity, en 
 deavoured to reassure her as to her husband's safety. 
 But it was with a sick heart, indeed, that she stood 
 on the deck by his side, in spite of the storm, 
 wrapped in a boat-cloak which had belonged to 
 Grafton, and which he had left behind in his hasty 
 departure for the Torbay a week ago, while the 
 Maidstone was running into the bay. With him 
 she stared rfard at the broken, shattered ships strain 
 ing at their cables in the storm which swept them 
 on. She marked the three which had been wrecked 
 upon Le Four, two of them dismasted and ruined 
 
 388
 
 The Woman Bereft 
 
 with the ceaseless waves still pounding them to 
 pieces. She saw farther away great bursts of flame 
 and clouds of smoke rising from the two which 
 were on fire and burning furiously. 
 
 Hatfield, whose treatment of her had been per 
 fect she would never forget it kept by her, sup 
 porting her on the uneasy deck of the unsteady ship, 
 intently surveying the scene, too. He did not see 
 the Torbay among those at anchor. As he drew 
 nearer to the group, however, he happened to cast 
 a glance to leeward, and instantly recognised the 
 wrecked ship on Le Four. The involuntary start 
 he gave, as the recognition came to him, attracted 
 the attention of Anne, who turned to him as he 
 stared at the remains of the Torbay. Intuitively 
 she divined that something had occurred, and she 
 gave him no rest until he told her the truth. 
 
 It had seemed to her that fate could have laid 
 upon her no heavier burdens than those she had 
 already borne, until this last blow came. She would 
 have fallen to the deck had not Hatfield supported 
 her. He endeavoured, of course, to comfort her, 
 but without success. Though the Torbay was 
 wrecked, they could see that many of her men re 
 mained on her, and she still held together. It was 
 quite likely that Grafton was safe, he urged; in 
 which event she would soon see him. 
 
 Nerved by this thought, she summoned her res 
 olution once more, and leaning over the rail gazed at 
 the wreck of her husband's ship, and possibly of her 
 own hope and happiness, as they swept on. She 
 would know all in a short time, she thought; mean- 
 
 389
 
 The Quiberon Touch 
 
 while she must have the strength to wait a little 
 longer. That wait was to be longer than she 
 dreamed, and of all the demands upon her strength 
 made during the past week it proved the greatest 
 and the hardest to be met. 
 
 Hatfield intended to send a boat off to the flag 
 ship at once, but when he reached a suitable position 
 for anchoring, the seas were running so heavily and 
 the storm blowing so hard it was impossible for him 
 to do anything all that day. Indeed, he had to bring 
 all his seamanship and experience to bear to save 
 his ship. Anne, in a fever of impatient anxiety, had 
 to wait as best she could. Philip might be there on 
 that ship, wounded, dying, she could not get to him; 
 he might be dead, and she, not knowing it, yet alive. 
 Oh, the raging sea, the cruel storm! 
 
 She forgot the anger of men which had wrought 
 such havoc, and railed in her heart against wind and 
 wave and tempest. She was almost beside herself. 
 Hatfield, whose anxiety for his friend was also very 
 strong, had the greatest difficulty in calming her. 
 Indeed, he had but little time from his duties. He 
 had to watch his ship constantly. Great are the 
 demands of duty, but great are its compensations as 
 well. If Anne only could have had something to do 
 she could have borne the killing suspense better; 
 alas! she had only to wait. The strength of woman 
 is to wait. Weakness is passive, yet it conquers, or 
 dies, in the end. 
 
 For the same reason of the storm no help could 
 be offered the men on the wrecked ships. Some of 
 them made rafts and escaped to the shore, where 
 
 390
 
 The Woman Bereft 
 
 they were promptly captured, but most of them 
 clung to their vessels until the weather moderated, 
 when they were rescued. 
 
 It was not until the gale blew itself out that Hat- 
 field was able to communicate with Admiral Hawke. 
 On the third day after the battle, therefore, the 
 weather at last made it possible for him to call away 
 one of his boats and repair to the flag-ship. Anne 
 went with him, for she had insisted upon going in 
 the first boat that left the frigate. The faithful 
 Jean-Renaud whose grief for the master he had 
 abandoned (though by that master's orders) was 
 not less profound than her own for the husband she 
 feared she had lost accompanied her. Indeed, the 
 old man would not be parted from her. 
 
 Sir Edward Hawke, hearing that there was a 
 woman in the approaching boat, came to the gang 
 way to meet them. The old sailor took off his hat 
 before her and stood with bent head, the wind blow 
 ing across his gray hairs as Anne, pale and haggard, 
 but still lovely, followed, and, assisted by Hatfield, 
 clambered up the ladder and stepped upon the deck. 
 
 " Sir Edward Hawke," said Hatfield, as he sa 
 luted, " allow me to congratulate you on your vic 
 tory, and then to present you to the Countess 
 de " 
 
 " Pardon, monsieur," said Anne " Madame 
 Philip Grafton." 
 
 " Is it possible! " cried the admiral. " My dear 
 lady " 
 
 " Where is my husband, sir? " interrupted Anne. 
 
 "Ah, madame, I know not! Yonder upon Le 
 
 391
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 Four lie the remains of his ship. We have had no 
 speech with them for two days. The boats of the 
 Union, however, are now taking off the men. We 
 will have a report presently. But you, madame, 
 where were you, may I ask? " 
 
 " I was on Le Thesee, sir, with my grandfather, 
 the Marquis de Chabot-Rohan." 
 
 " My poor child! " exclaimed the admiral. 
 
 " They are all gone, sir, are they not? Were any 
 of them saved? " she asked him piteously. 
 
 " None! None! How terrible for you! " 
 
 '' Yes, monsieur, and if I have not my husband, 
 I am indeed lost." 
 
 " Pray God he may be saved, madame. And 
 how did you escape? " 
 
 " This old man," she said, turning to Jean-Re- 
 naud, " seized me in his arms, leaped with me into 
 the sea, and Monsieur Hatfield, my husband's friend, 
 picked us up." 
 
 " You have done well, my brave man," said the 
 admiral in French, turning to Jean-Renaud, and 
 reaching out his hand. 
 
 " No, Monsieur 1'Amiral," said the old Breton, 
 shaking his head, tears falling from his eyes, " my 
 master is gone and I am here. He bade me take 
 mademoiselle. He went down with the ship, and I 
 was not there." 
 
 " But you saved the mistress," continued the ad 
 miral. " 'Twas an heroic deed." 
 
 ' You will not hold him prisoner, sir? " asked 
 Anne anxiously. 
 
 " Madame," said Hawke, " he is as free as the 
 
 392
 
 The Woman Bereft 
 
 air. He shall be set ashore where and when he 
 wills." 
 
 " No, Mademoiselle Anne," returned the old 
 man mournfully, " they are all gone of the old house 
 I serve, but you. I must stay with you while I am 
 here. Where you go, I go. I could not live and not 
 serve the de Rohans. I am your man now until the 
 end." 
 
 " Be it so," said Anne, extending her hand to 
 him. " I stay here until until " 
 
 " Will you not come into my cabin? " asked the 
 admiral kindly, " and wait there? I shall have news 
 presently, and it will be brought to you at once." 
 
 " No, sir," answered Anne resolutely, " I would 
 rather stay here. I can at least look at his ship." 
 
 " A boat from the Union, sir, coming on 
 board," reported the officer of the watch. " There 
 are some of the officers of the Torbay in her. I 
 recognise them, sir." 
 
 " Is one of them my husband? " cried Anne. 
 
 " Your husband, madame? " 
 
 " Captain Grafton," explained Hawke. 
 
 " No, madame," answered the young officer, 
 looking at her sadly. 
 
 In another moment the first lieutenant of the 
 Torbay stepped up to the admiral and saluted. He 
 was haggard and broken from loss of sleep, expo 
 sure, responsibility, and anxiety. 
 
 " Sir," he said, " I have to report the loss of the 
 ship to the command of which I succeeded on the 
 night of the battle. Captain Grafton " 
 
 Hawke raised his finger warningly, but before 
 
 26 393
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 the lieutenant realized the situation Anne grasped 
 him by the arm. 
 
 " What of him? " she cried. 
 
 The officer looked from one to the other in great 
 bewilderment. 
 
 " Speak out now, man," said Hawke impatient 
 ly. " The tale must be told now." 
 
 " He was washed overboard when we struck Le 
 Four and we have not seen him since, sir." 
 
 Without a moan or cry Anne sank to the deck 
 at the feet of the old admiral. Stooping over her 
 slight form he lifted her up himself as easily as if 
 she had been his own child his daughter. He car 
 ried her to his cabin, where he sent the surgeon and 
 the old chaplain to her. They were not able to do 
 much with her. When consciousness came back 
 it brought such agony to her that she longed and 
 hoped for death. The admiral visited her again and 
 again, told her he had directed inquiries to be made 
 as to whether any of the other ships had picked her 
 husband up, bade her not despair in short, the 
 grim old warrior was as tender of her as a father, as 
 gentle to her as a woman. 
 
 As the morning wore on communication was 
 had with Le Formidable, and from her news of 
 Grafton's safety secured. Hawke himself carried 
 the news to the devoted woman, who revived so 
 much on receipt of the tidings that she insisted upon 
 going aboard the captured ship at once. By the ad 
 miral's direction his own barge, which had been un 
 injured in the battle, was called away and placed at 
 her disposal. Hatfield accompanied her. 
 
 394
 
 The Woman Bereft 
 
 "Tell him from me," said Hawke, as he bade 
 her good-bye at the gangway, " that he did mag 
 nificently. I marked his course, I saw his fighting. 
 England shall hear of it. Tell him, too, not to worry 
 over the loss of his ship. It was a thing that might 
 have happened to any one. I am thankful we got 
 off so easily." He stopped and looked gravely yet 
 kindly at her, laying his hand on her head she 
 seemed to remind him of his own daughter. " Tell 
 him, also, that the best share of the victory and 
 the greatest prize has fallen to him since he has you. 
 They tell me he is desperately wounded and uncon 
 scious, but you will revive him and bring him to 
 life if anything can. Don't give way. He needs you 
 now. I don't wonder he fought as he did! 'Twas 
 not for England only, but for his wife as well and 
 such a wife! You must bring him back to the 
 Royal George when you can, and come back your 
 self if you stay with him " 
 
 " I shall never leave him again, monsieur," she 
 murmured. " Whom have I now but him? I thank 
 you; you have been good to me. I shall not for 
 get it." 
 
 She seized his hand, and before he could with 
 draw it, much to his embarrassment she carried it 
 to her lips and was gone. 
 
 395
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII 
 
 FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE 
 
 SINCE early morning the surgeons from the 
 English ships had been working with the wounded 
 on Le Formidable, and details of seamen had been 
 working over the ship herself as well, so that, while 
 she was still a picture of ruin and devastation, she 
 was in a very much better condition than she had 
 been. Most of the severely wounded had died in 
 the interim, and their bodies had been cast over 
 board with as much reverence as the demands of the 
 living and their pressing necessities admitted, which 
 was not much. Those who yet remained alive were 
 fast becoming amenable to the treatment, but the 
 ship itself was a sufficiently ghastly place, in spite of 
 all that had been done for her and for her crew, to 
 have appalled the stoutest heart. 
 
 Philip's wife, however, saw nothing of this. 
 There was nothing before her heart but her hus 
 band and his welfare. She knew nothing, saw noth 
 ing, thought of nothing but him. She had long since 
 passed beyond the normal capacity of humanity to 
 experience suffering save in so far as he was con 
 cerned. Nothing else made any appeal to her dead 
 ened sensibilities. She had still strength to get to 
 his side; after that 
 
 39 6
 
 From Death unto Life 
 
 She sat in the boat, as it made its way to 
 ward Le Formidable, with her eyes closed, her lips 
 murmuring prayers. And though her eyes were 
 opened on the ship, it made little difference to her. 
 She stood on the wreck as one blind. Hatfield 
 helped her tenderly over the side, and with a word 
 of explanation to the prize-master took her imme 
 diately below to the great cabin. 
 
 They had given Grafton the room that had be 
 longed to the brave Admiral du Verger, now peace 
 fully sleeping beneath the waves on the scene of his 
 heroic defence. 
 
 As they approached the door Anne could hear 
 her husband's voice. He was alive, then, thank 
 God! Hatfield pushed open the door and she en 
 tered. At the head of the berth on a low stool sat a 
 grim old sailor, his face buried in his hands. He 
 lifted his head as they entered, rose to his feet, and 
 stared at her. 
 
 " Who be you, ma'am? " he asked. 
 
 " I am his wife," she answered, pushing past him 
 toward the berth. 
 
 There was her husband. He was white, hag 
 gard, and broken. He looked utterly exhausted 
 dying. The fever which had possessed him had re 
 duced him to the last extremity. His eyes were 
 closed; he was muttering to himself. She bent her 
 head to listen. How the scene in the old house in 
 Quebec came back to her as she saw him lying help 
 less before her thus again! 
 
 "My ship!" he murmured. "My ship! She 
 strikes! Ha! She's going down! LeThesee! My 
 
 397
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 God, my wife my wife have mercy on me! My 
 ship my wife pity, pity, O God, my wife my 
 wife " 
 
 " He's been sayin' them words for three days. 
 'Tis his wife an' the ship all the time," whispered 
 the old sailor to Hatfield. 
 
 Anne stared at Grafton in strained silence. He 
 did not know her. Would he ever do so? She 
 thought, if he did not recover consciousness, if he 
 did not cease that unwearying murmur of ship and 
 wife, she would die there before him. She was pet 
 rified, appalled, shocked by the cumulative events 
 of the week tried beyond endurance. She stared 
 longer, growing whiter as she did. Was she dying, 
 too? Well, what mattered it? They would go to 
 gether. Hatfield saw her sway, and not with the 
 motion of the ship. He sprang to her side and 
 caught her by the shoulder. Old Slocum took her 
 by the hands. 
 
 " Ma'am," he said in his rude way, tears filling 
 his eyes, " I knowed him w'en he was a babby. I 
 sailed with his father. Pull yourself together an' 
 speak to him. If you don't call him back agin he's 
 gone. The doctor says he can't do nuthin' more 
 fer him. Speak to him, fer God's sake, ma'am ! " 
 
 Anne roused herself with a last desperate effort 
 summoned the vestiges of her resolution once more, 
 and, as she thought, for the last time stepped 
 nearer to Grafton, laid her hand upon his brow, and 
 bent her lips low toward him. 
 
 "Philip!" she whispered. "Philip, O Philip! 
 My husband! " 
 
 398
 
 From Death unto Life 
 
 He heard the unfamiliar sound. His babbling 
 ceased. He opened his eyes and lay strangely still, 
 looking at her. 
 
 " Little France," he whispered, " is it thou? " 
 
 " I, indeed, Philip! " cried the girl. 
 
 " My wife! " he murmured. 
 
 "Yes, yes, now and forever! O Philip, Philip, 
 I called to God out of the deep and He heard me! 
 We will never be parted." 
 
 '' You have called me back to life," he mur 
 mured. 
 
 She laid her head upon his breast, as she had 
 done many times before in Canada. He closed his 
 eyes. Had he fainted? But, no, she felt the pres 
 sure of his hand. He would recover now. It need 
 ed no other skill than that supplied by her loving 
 heart to assure her of that. He had grown strangely 
 calm in her presence. Her own strength came back 
 to her before his weakness. She seemed to lift him 
 up to life and love again. The silence in the cabin 
 was broken only by the sound of the waves rushing 
 along the side, the creaking and groaning of the 
 timbers from the uneasy pitching of the ship. 
 
 Hatfield beckoned old Slocum, and the two men 
 slipped noiselessly out. 
 
 " I guess he don't want me no more, sir," said 
 the old sailor sadly, as he stepped out of the cabin, 
 " an' I took keer on him w'en he was a babby." 
 
 " And I lost my ship, darling," whispered Philip 
 at last, all the sorrow of a sailor and a captain in his 
 voice. 
 
 399
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 " Yes, but the admiral said you had done nobly 
 and you were not to mind. He would see." 
 
 " Ah, he is a kindly man! " 
 
 " He was kind to me, too. And I am grateful." 
 
 " And I, too." 
 
 " Philip, do you know that I am alone now but 
 for you? " continued the girl sadly. " Grandfather, 
 friends, country, all seem to have gone down in that 
 terrible ship." 
 
 " 'Twas not my ship that sunk her, dear," pro 
 tested her husband. " God's hand dealt the blow. 
 He saved you. He brought us together again. I 
 shall be all things to you by His help. I promise 
 Him, I promise you." 
 
 " And I believe you and I trust you. I always 
 believed you and trusted you, even as a child, my 
 Philip." 
 
 " And you will do so still? " 
 
 " To the very end." 
 
 " That picture, Anne, darling," whispered Graf- 
 ton at last, " that you gave me, 'twas broken by the 
 blow that struck me down." 
 
 "Let it be!" cried the girl. "You have me 
 now, is not that enough? " 
 
 " And that slipper," he murmured, " that I took 
 from your room in the tower " 
 
 " Did you take it? " she cried, faintly smil 
 ing through her tears. " I missed it and won 
 dered." 
 
 " Tis gone, too," he said, " lost with the Tor- 
 bay." 
 
 " Philip," she said suddenly, " that other locket? 
 400
 
 From Death unto Life 
 
 Ah, you wear it still! " she added, lifting the chain 
 with her hand. 
 
 In spite of herself her eyes looked the desire she 
 did not express. 
 
 " There can be no secret between us now, sweet 
 Anne," said Grafton. " Open it." 
 
 She drew back. His willingness was all she 
 wished. 
 
 " Nay, I trust you in all. I have you. You are 
 mine. No pictured woman may rise to claim you 
 now." 
 
 " None ever will, dear," he answered. " But 
 open it. I desire it. The dead general would wish 
 it, too, could he but know you." 
 
 With eager hands she drew the little golden 
 locket from its weather-stained leather case. She 
 pressed the spring and opened it. The miniature 
 of a beautiful young woman looked up at her. 
 As she gazed at it a moment her eyes filled 
 with tears. She could not help but be very jeal 
 ous. 
 
 " She is very beautiful," she murmured pitifully, 
 looking from the portrait at her husband. 
 
 " Is she? " he said faintly. " I never saw her." 
 
 " Never saw her! " 
 
 " No, she was the betrothed of General Wolfe. 
 He gave me the locket the night before the battle 
 of Quebec, and bade me place it in her hands 
 when I returned to England, with all the love 
 of his heart, and he told me to tell no one; 
 but now you well, we will take it to her to 
 gether." 
 
 401
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 " Yes, yes poor maiden! Ah, Philip, Sir 
 Philip, how well you English know how to love a 
 woman! " 
 
 " A man would be a poor fellow indeed, Anne," 
 he answered, " whom you could not teach to do 
 that." 
 
 402
 
 L'ENVOI 
 FAREWELL! 
 
 NEARLY two years have fled away. It is a new 
 scene in a new land. Under a grove of mighty trees, 
 the forest primeval, indeed, on the brow of a hill, a 
 gray old manor-house stands upon a grassy lawn 
 stretching down to the shining waters of the broad 
 Potomac. On the edge of the bluff, looking far 
 over the river, is a little pleasure-house. It is late 
 spring in the Old Dominion. 
 
 Philip and Anne Grafton for some time past 
 have been established in the ancestral home of the 
 family from which her mother sprang, which had 
 descended to her shortly before. Though he had 
 given up active service in the English navy, out of 
 deference to his wife's feelings, who would not see 
 him war against her countrymen, and who could 
 not bear to think of him on that sea which had 
 taken her grandfather and father as well, Graf- 
 ton had retired with the sanction and approval of 
 the King. His beautiful wife and her story had won 
 the kind heart of queer little George II, and, while 
 loath to lose so good an officer, he had at last said 
 " Yes " to all her pleadings for her husband. She 
 had suffered enough and she was entitled to consid 
 eration. 
 
 403
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 From a tall masthead, erected on the sloping 
 lawn, every day flutters a small blue flag, which is 
 especially under the care of a certain ancient 
 mariner of aspect curious and language quaint, 
 who rolls along the walks and drives of the Vir 
 ginia plantation as if he were still on the heaving 
 deck of a ship. He answers to the name of Jabez 
 Slocum, and is full of strange tales of distant lands 
 and teeming seas. The children of the vicinity 
 love him. 
 
 Philip's neighbours, in common with this old 
 man, call him " Admiral Grafton." He is, in fact, a 
 rear-admiral of the blue, and the flag is that of his 
 rank. 
 
 In the little summer-house there are two women. 
 The difference between them is as marked, thinks 
 Philip, as he observes them, himself unseen, from 
 the porch of the house above, as when he first saw 
 them in the old Chateau de Josselin in Brittany in 
 France. There is but one doll between them now. 
 It is not Toto, nor any of the demoiselles de Paris. 
 This one has blue eyes like his father and mother, 
 and the midnight hair of Anne has been lightened 
 into a curly brown that speaks of Philip. Josette, 
 who had been brought from France after the battle, 
 kneels at her mistress' feet in adoration. From 
 where Grafton stands he can see the downy head of 
 his young son nestling against the fair white bosom 
 of his mother. Young Philip de Rohan Grafton is 
 hungry but he will not be so long! 
 
 The two women break into the words of a famil 
 iar song. The man watches and listens. There is a 
 
 404
 
 Farewell ! 
 
 step behind him. He turns and finds himself face 
 to face with old Jean-Renaud. 
 
 " They sing yonder. Do you hear? " asked 
 Graf ton. 
 
 " Yes, monsieur," answered the old man smil 
 ing. 
 
 " Do you know what it is they sing? " 
 
 Philip knows it well, he has heard it often; but 
 still he asks the question, thinking the while of the 
 morning he first heard it from the children at the 
 foot of the tower when he asked Jean-Renaud about 
 it long ago. 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur 1'Amiral. Tis a Breton cra 
 dle-song with which the mothers put their babies to 
 sleep." 
 
 The two men look and listen. The two women 
 sing on. The baby sleeps. 
 
 There is peace in the land. 
 
 405
 
 AFTERWORD 
 
 PREFACES and " forewords " are as " plenty as 
 blackberries." Few people, however, seem to read 
 them. Perhaps an " afterword " may meet with a 
 better fate and the fashion has already been set. 
 Those who, like the Chinese, begin a book on the 
 last page may be inveigled into reading this. 
 
 It is a bad plan to commence a sermon with 
 the making of which I am measurably familiar 
 with an apology, and the rule holds good of a book. 
 We have arrived at the conclusion of this tale, and, 
 like most prefaces, this is written after the book 
 was completed ; but I will extend the rule and refrain 
 from apologizing even at the end then it is too 
 late, anyway. 
 
 This is merely a statement, therefore, that 
 instead of Philip Grafton, it was the celebrated Jer- 
 vis, afterward Earl St. Vincent, who received the 
 locket and Wolfe's confidences in the cabin of the 
 Sutherland; that it was Keppel, subsequently the 
 great antagonist of d'Orvilliers, who commanded 
 
 407
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 the Torbay at Quiberon, and it was the Resolution 
 and not the Torbay that was wrecked in that titanic 
 struggle. Nor did the war begin in 1754. There 
 was an ostensible peace between France and Eng^ 
 land then, in spite of the sharp fighting during 
 Washington's and Braddock's campaigns in the val 
 ley of the Ohio in that and the following year,* and 
 the war was not formally declared until 1756. 
 
 The two great historical events around which 
 the action of the story centres were of vital impor 
 tance to the future of America and England. Fail 
 ing the victory at Quebec, which virtually termi 
 nated the war on this continent, in which the Amer 
 icans received such valuable lessons, the United 
 States would probably never have won its independ 
 ence. There would have been another outlet for 
 the growing energies of the colonies in that event 
 namely, fighting with Canada instead of with Eng 
 land. Without the victory at Quiberon, in which 
 the naval power of France was annihilated, England 
 might not have been able to hold New France, and 
 the British Empire certainly would not at that time 
 have begun to be. The story of Wolfe on the 
 Plains of Abraham is a familiar one. The magnifi 
 cent fighting of Hawke in the storm off Quiberon is 
 
 * See my book, Colonial Fights and Fighters, for a detailed 
 account of these celebrated campaigns. 
 
 408
 
 Afterword 
 
 practically unknown. Yet he was one of the most 
 splendid seamen as well as one of the most brilliant 
 and dashing fighters in the long, glorious line of 
 English admirals. Well does Burke style him " The 
 Great Lord Hawke." His crushing of the French 
 fleet sealed the conquest of Canada, and, as I said 
 before, determined the beginning of one of the 
 greatest achievements in state building the world 
 has ever seen the British Empire. The year 1759, 
 marked by the battles of Quebec and Quiberon, 
 fitly may be called the annits mirabilis of William 
 Pitt and of England. 
 
 The battle of Quiberon is told as it happened. 
 Although there are many allusions to it, and a num 
 ber of anecdotes concerning it to be found, there is 
 in existence no coherent, clear, detailed account of 
 that tremendous action unless in Mahan no map 
 or plan of it; nor have I ever seen any picture 
 or sketch of it. I have ransacked the various his 
 tories, and examined all the accounts to which 
 I could get access, including some unpublished 
 manuscript recently brought to light for the first 
 time, and have so built up the story. The archives 
 of France and England have been searched for con 
 firming details, and I believe, with the exceptions 
 noted above, that the description is accurate, and 
 the things set down really happened. Notably is 
 27 409
 
 The guiberon Touch 
 
 this true of the smashing of Le Superbe and the 
 foundering of Le Thesee. The account of the 
 scene on Le Formidable, after the battle, is taken 
 from the rare journal of an English naval surgeon 
 who was there. I have not ventured to quote the 
 full details of his horrible recital of what he saw on 
 that ship. Many of the conversations in which 
 Hawke takes part are on record as well. 
 
 To turn to lighter themes: the cradle-song, for 
 the English version of which I am indebted to a 
 gifted young friend, is still sung by the mothers to 
 their children in ancient Brittany. And with this 
 note concerning the peaceful little lullaby I leave 
 my readers with a regret on my part in which I 
 fondly hope they share. 
 
 CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY. 
 OVERBROOK, PHILADELPHIA, PA., April 5, igoi. 
 
 410
 
 BY CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY. 
 
 Commodore Paul Jones. 
 A new volume in the GREAT COMMANDERS 
 SERIES, edited by General JAMES GRANT WILSON. 
 With Photogravure Portrait and Maps. I2mo. 
 Cloth, 1 1. 50 net; postage, n cents additional. 
 
 "An excellent biography." The Outlook. 
 
 " Has the fascination of a romance." Cleveland Plain Dealer. 
 
 "It has the interest of an absorbing romance." Neva York Commercial 
 Advertiser. 
 
 "A thousand times more interesting than any of the so-called historical 
 romances that are now in vogue." Spirit of the Times. 
 
 " Mr. Brady's vigorous style, vivid imagination, and dramatic force are 
 most happily exhibited in this book." Philadelphia Press. 
 
 "Mr. Brady's book shows great study and care, and brings out many new 
 and characteristic incidents not hitherto published." Neiv Haven Palladium. 
 
 " No better biographer than Mr. Brady could have been found for the first 
 admiral of our fleet. The book is good biography, but it is also good patriot 
 ism.''^'^ Tork Mail and Express. 
 
 "Brady's ' Commodore Jones ' is incomparably fine. Being the work of a 
 scholarly writer, it must stand as the best popular life yet available. The book 
 is one to buy and own. It is more interesting than any novel, and better written 
 than most histories." Nautical Gazette. 
 
 Reuben James. 
 
 A Hero of the Forecastle. A new volume in the 
 YOUNG HEROES OF OUR NAVY SE 
 RIES. Illustrated by George Gibbs and Others. 
 I2mo. Cloth, $1.00. . 
 
 "A lively and spirited narrative." Boston Herald. 
 
 " An entertaining and patriotic study." Newport News. 
 
 " Mr. Brady has made a stirring tale out of the material before him, one of 
 those brilliant and forceful descriptions of the glories of the old wooden walled 
 navy, which stir the. blood like a trumpet call." Brooklyn Eagle. 
 
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 A NEW HISTORICAL ROMANCE. 
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 A Romance of the Flag. By CHAUNCEY C. HOTCHKISS, author 
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 "Betsy Ross" is a historical romance based upon the story 
 of the maker of the first official American flag. Mrs. Ross was 
 a charming young widow of but little more than twenty-three 
 when she was commissioned to make the flag from a design sub 
 mitted to her by Washington. Her husband had been killed by 
 an accident at the Philadelphia arsenal within a few months after 
 his marriage. 
 
 The romance which the author has woven around the origin 
 of our flag will quicken the pulse of every reader by the wealth of 
 striking characters and dramatic incidents, and the absorbing interest 
 of the plot. History has furnished a motive which has been 
 curiously neglected in fiction, and the picturesque figures of the 
 time, sea-rangers and Quakers, redcoats and Continental soldiers, 
 and even Washington himself, have to do with the development of 
 a strange and thrilling story wherein Betsy Ross takes the leading 
 part. The ancient tavern, the home of the Philadelphia merchant, 
 the flag-maker's little shop, and the quaint and charming life of the 
 time, are shown as the background of a series of swift incidents 
 which hold the reader's attention. "Betsy Ross" is a book to 
 be read, and the reader will recommend it. 
 
 The Betsy Ross of history was a singularly bright and win 
 some woman, and intensely patriotic. Mr. Hotchjuss's story has 
 been confined to the romantic days of her early womanhood. 
 The house in which the flag was completed, and in and about 
 which most of the action of the novel takes place, still stands en 
 Arch Street, Philadelphia, and the attempt to preserve it as one 
 of the shrines connected with American history is meeting with 
 deserved success. Mrs. Ross (afterward Mrs. Claypoole) died 
 at the great age of ninety-three, and her remains lie in Mount 
 Moriah Cemetery. 
 
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 A PICTURESQUE BOOK OF THE SEA. 
 
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 "THE TRUTH ABOUT THE BOERS." 
 BY HOWARD C. HILLEGAS. 
 
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 A TIMELY BOOK. 
 
 China. 
 
 Travels and Investigations in the "Middle Kingdom " A Study 
 of its Civilization and Possibilities. Together with an Account 
 of the Boxer War, the Relief of the Legations, and the Re-estab 
 lishment of Peace. By JAMES HARRISON WILSON, A. M., LL. D., 
 late Major- General United States Volunteers, and Brevet Major- 
 General United States Army. Third edition, revised throughout, 
 enlarged, and reset, izmo. Cloth, $1.75. 
 
 General Wilson's second visit to China and his recent active 
 service in that country have afforded exceptional chances for a 
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 Boxer insurrection, the relief of the legations, and the outlook for 
 the future, the author has revised his book throughout, and has 
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 affairs, and this includes the latest phases of the subject. The 
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 tical questions relating to Chinese administration, commerce, and 
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 wishes a compact, authoritative presentation of the China of 
 to-day. 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
 
 YOUNG HEROES OF OUR NAVY, 
 
 Uniform Edition. Each, J2mo, cloth, $1.00. 
 
 Reuben James. 
 
 A Hero of the Forecastle. By CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY, author 
 of " Paul Jones." Illustrated by George Gibbs and others. 
 
 " Nothing could be more absorbing than Mr. Brady's graphic tale, which 
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 men who did such gallant work at Manila and Santiago." Cleveland World. 
 
 The Hero of Manila. 
 
 Dewey on the Mississippi and the Pacific. By ROSSITER JOHNSON. 
 Illustrated by B. West Clinedinst and others. 
 
 "There is nothing sensational or bombastic in the story from beginning to 
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 decidedly interesting." Boston Budget. 
 
 The Hero Of Erie (Commodore Perry). 
 By JAMES BARNES, author of " Midshipman Farragut," " Com 
 modore Bainbridge," etc. With 10 full-page Illustrations. 
 
 Commodore Bainbridge. 
 
 From the Gunroom to the Quarter-deck. By JAMES BARNES. 
 Illustrated by George Gibbs and others. 
 
 Midshipman Farragut. 
 
 By JAMES BARNES. Illustrated by Carlton F. Chapman. 
 
 Decatur and Somers. 
 
 By MOLLY ELLIOT SEA WELL. With 6 full-page Illustrations by 
 J. O. Davidson and others. 
 
 Paul Jones. 
 
 By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL. With 8 full-page Illustrations. 
 
 Midshipman Paulding. 
 
 A True Story of the War of 1 8 1 2. By MOLLY ELLIOT SEA- 
 WELL. With 6 full-page Illustrations. 
 
 Little Jarvis. 
 
 The Story of the Heroic Midshipman of the Frigate Constellation. 
 By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL. With 6 full-page Illustrations. 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
 
 GREAT COMMANDERS. 
 
 Edited by General JAMES GRANT WILSON. 
 
 This series forms one of the most notable collections of books that has 
 been published for many years. The success it has met with since the first 
 volume was issued, and the widespread attention it has attracted, indicate 
 that it has satisfactorily fulfilled its purpose, viz., to provide in a popular 
 form and moderate compass the records of the lives of men who have been 
 conspicuously eminent in the great conflicts that established American in 
 dependence and maintained our national integrity and unity. Each biog 
 raphy has been written by an author especially well qualified for the task, 
 and the result is not only a series of fascinating stories of the lives and deeds 
 of great men, but a rich mine of valuable information for the student of 
 American history and biography. 
 
 Each, J2mo, cloth, gilt top, $f .50 net 
 Postage, 11 cents additional. 
 
 NOW READY. 
 Admiral Farragut - - - - By Captain A. T. MAHAN, U. S. N. 
 
 General Taylor By General O. O. HOWARD, U. S. A. 
 
 General Jackson By JAMES PARTON. 
 
 General Greene By General FRANCIS V. GREENE. 
 
 General J. E. Johnston - - By ROBERT M. HUGHES, of Virginia. 
 
 General Thomas By HENRY COPPEE, LL. D. 
 
 General Scott By General MARCUS J. WRIGHT. 
 
 General Washington - - - By General BRADLEY T. JOHNSON. 
 
 General Lee By General FITZHUGH LEE. 
 
 General Hancock By General FRANCIS A. WALKER. 
 
 General Sheridan By General HENRY E. DAVIES. 
 
 General Grant By General JAMES GRANT WILSON. 
 
 General Sherman By General MANNING F. FORCE. 
 
 Commodore Paul Jones - - - - By CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY. 
 
 General Meade By ISAAC R. PENNYPACKER. 
 
 General McClellan By General PETER S. MICHIE. 
 
 IN PREPARATION. 
 
 Admiral Porter By JAMES R. SOLEY, late Ass't Sec'y U. S. Navy. 
 
 General Forrest By Captain J. HARVEY MATHES. 
 
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 DR. EGGLESTON'S GREAT HISTORY. 
 
 The Transit of Civilization 
 
 From England to America in the Seventeenth Century. By 
 EDWARD EGGLESTON. Uniform with "The Beginners of a 
 Nation." Small 8vo, gilt top, uncut, cloth, $1.50. 
 
 All who have read " The Beginners of a Nation " will wel 
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 the author has long been engaged. Its aim is to reveal to the reader 
 the mind of the seventeenth century man to show where he 
 stood in the intellectual development of the race ; what he knew 
 of science, and how his character was determined by his limi 
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 of the world in which he lived, with its witches, its omnipresent 
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 tion of a school system unthought of then. 
 
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 1. Medical Outfit of the Early Colonists. 
 
 2. Medical Notions at the Period of Settlement. 
 
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 4. Weights and Measures of Conduct. 
 
 5. The Tradition of Education. 
 
 6. Landholding in the Early Colonies. 
 
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 century. It may be read in entire independence of any other 
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 pathos and moral fiber in short, a book to be read." London Chronicle. 
 
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 picturesquely written." London Daily News. 
 
 fi It has literary merits all its own, of a deliberate and rather deep order. . . . 
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 elaborate, the style more colored." Westminster Gazette. 
 
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 " A very remarkable book, deserving of critical analysis impossible within 
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 graphically what he saw, heard, or did himself. One gains a very real and 
 personal knowledge of the war from these 'Recollections.' " Chicago Times- 
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 Cannon and Camera. 
 
 Sea and Land Battles of the Spanish-American War in 
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 Puerto Rico and its Resources. 
 
 A book for Travelers, Investors, and others, containing 
 Full Accounts of Natural Features and Resources, Prod 
 ucts, People, Opportunities for Business, etc. By FRED 
 ERICK A. OBER, author of "Camps in the Caribbees," 
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