GREAT DAYS 
 
By the Same Author 
 
 UNPATH'D WATERS 
 ELDER CONKLIN 
 MONTES THE MATADOR 
 
 JOHN LANE : THE BODLEY HEAD 
 
GREAT DAYS 
 
 BY FRANK HARRIS 
 
 LONDON: JOHN LANE THE BODLEY HEAD 
 TORONTO : BELL & COCKBURN MCMXIV 
 
30 s 
 
 THE ANCHOR PRESS, LTD., TIPTBEE, ESSEX. 
 
GREAT DAYS 
 
BOOK I 
 
GREAT DAYS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 A BOY'S memories, hazy in childhood, but clearing 
 later ; a sturdy boy with quick Celtic face. 
 Jack remembered wandering along a corridor 
 at night with his elder sister, going downstairs to kitchen and 
 pantry to get bread and jam. Sister squeaked at some sound 
 and ran back ; he went on and got the food. As he turned to 
 the door a shadow fell on the pantry window : it numbed 
 him with dread ; his heart beat so loudly he was sure it 
 must be heard. In a little while curiosity overcame fear 
 and he peered out into the inn yard. 
 
 It was very dark, but he saw men passing to the stable 
 with casks on their shoulders eight or ten, one after the 
 other, silent shadow-shapes. He was half relieved, half 
 amazed, his heart still a-flutter. As soon as he began to 
 follow his sister up the dark stairs he was suddenly seized 
 by fear of what was behind him, and fled, too, breathless, 
 dreading he knew not what. . . . 
 
 Later : Jack was taken out on Sunday by his father. He 
 was a little afraid of his father, and uncomfortable in new 
 clothes, his face sticky with soap. His father chided him : 
 
 " Don't make faces, boy." 
 
 The servant had washed his face, for his mother was not 
 
 B 
 
GREAT DAYS 
 
 well. She had not washed the soap off ; the water was not 
 warm, the soap got into his eyes, and left his skin all crinkly- 
 stiff. Again his father snapped : 
 
 " Don't make faces." 
 
 They were in a chapel, the pews low and yellow, the 
 walls bare and white. The minister preached about hell, 
 described the flames. Jack was uncomfortable, afraid ; he 
 did not want to burn forever all over. He remembered 
 burning his finger once and it smarted dreadfully. He 
 disliked the chapel ; the people in it seemed common, ugly. 
 
 His father put on a little black cap he sometimes wore in 
 the house ; the boy felt inclined to laugh at it. Then he 
 saw other people looking at it and he grew hot and ashamed. 
 No one else wore a little black cap ; he hated it. He watched 
 a fly crawl over it. His father whispered : 
 
 " Don't stare ! " 
 
 The minister prayed with his eyes shut. The people 
 joined in, his father loudly : 
 
 " Lord save us, Lord save us." 
 
 Jack was uncomfortable ; the skin of his face felt glazed. 
 He wished he were out in the woods. 
 
 Long afterwards : He was awakened by unusual noises : 
 doors opening and shutting, someone clumping past his 
 door in heavy boots. He dressed hurriedly ; he could 
 dress himself now. He went to the door, opened it, and 
 listened. Suddenly Gibby, his cousin, passed, all dripping 
 in yellow oilskins. He asked, " What's the matter ? " 
 
 Gibby replied hurriedly : " Ship ashore on beach ; your 
 father sent me to tell missis to light fires and warm beds 
 for the shipwrecked people." 
 
GREAT DAYS 
 
 Jack begged Gibby to take him to the beach ; he wanted 
 to see the wreck. 
 
 Gibby said : " Night's too dirty." 
 
 Jack begged. 
 
 At length Gibby replied : " You can follow me if you 
 like." 
 
 Jack followed Gibby outside ; the gale nearly pushed him 
 down. Gibby led him by the hand. 
 
 They came to the beach ; knots of men all about and two 
 great flares of yellow light from two piles of tarred wood 
 set on the strand. 
 
 Suddenly Jack saw his father, who was directing the 
 sailors where to build the bonfires. Riding, Chips, and 
 Widdison were busy setting fire to the piles of wood which 
 the others had made. 
 
 Jack left Gibby and tried to get to his father ; he was 
 blown down twice on the slippery shingle. He persevered 
 and at length got hold of his father's coat. 
 
 Thus sheltered Jack caught a glimpse of the wreck 
 silhouetted in black lines against a pale rift of sky. The fore- 
 mast was snapped off half-way up and hanging down with 
 the sail ; the mainmast tall and bare ; the mizzen with 
 small, squarish sail on it ; a vague outline of people grouped 
 about the mast on the sloping deck. 
 
 On the beach near by, amid the thickest crowd, Jack 
 recognised Dr. Crosby, the master of his school, talking to a 
 stout man in uniform. They all seemed very excited, but 
 the gale prevented him hearing what they said. In a lull 
 the knot of men came nearer. The rector, Mr. Carrol, 
 whom he hardly recognised, he was so muffled up, cried to 
 the man in uniform : 
 
GREAT DAYS 
 
 " But something must be done, lieutenant. What's to 
 
 be done ? It's awful " 
 
 The lieutenant shouted back : " Nothing can be done, 
 nothing ; no boat could live a second in such breakers." 
 
 Dr. Crosby bellowed to Jack's father: "What do you 
 say, Morgan ? Can't you do anything ? " 
 
 His father answered nothing. Suddenly Newton, whom 
 Jack knew, a youth, came panting up. His father made him 
 strip, put a belt about his waist, tied a thin twine to the belt, 
 then took him to the water's edge and pointed out how he 
 must go higher up the beach, two hundred yards higher, 
 and wade in and swim out as rapidly as possible. 
 
 " The tide is setting across," his father shouted in 
 Newton's ear ; " it'll carry you aboard. Don't be afraid, 
 and don't stop trying ! There's no danger for you, re- 
 member ; I shall feel you all the time by the string. 
 You'll be safe ; do your best and don't turn back. Now, 
 my lad, show what stuff's in you." 
 
 Newton disappeared in the night to the left. 
 
 The boy was afraid. Left alone on the beach he became 
 conscious of the cold, the howling force of the wind, the roar 
 of the incoming waves and the hissing and sizzling of them 
 as they drew back down the pebbly beach. 
 
 All at once the wreck was lit up with a great flare ; they 
 had kindled a fire in the bow to show Newton the way. 
 
 Jack's father called the men to make a chain. They all 
 took hands and waded out into the sea, Dr. Crosby next to 
 his father, who was right up to his neck. A wave swept 
 over them ; his father was covered, and Dr. Crosby. Then 
 the heads of the men appeared again, blots on the foam. 
 
 Jack shivered by himself. The ship was so close he could 
 
GREAT DAYS 
 
 see a crowd about the mainmast, men hurrying to and fro, 
 others standing on the bulwarks forward with ropes in their 
 hands. Suddenly a white figure was being dragged over 
 the bulwarks right against the flame ; shouts and cheers 
 rose from the crowd on the beach. His father came out 
 of the sea shaking the water from him. The next moment 
 he had tied a line, which Riding brought him, to the little 
 string in his hand, tied it very carefully, and the line 
 was drawn into the water and disappeared towards the 
 ship. 
 
 Suddenly a faint cheering was heard from the wreck ; 
 it brought forth a great shout from those on shore. The 
 crowd thronged about his father, congratulating him, 
 shaking his hands : they called him " Captain " and cheered 
 him again and again. Dr. Crosby came over and cried 
 to him in his big voice, slapping him on the shoulder : 
 
 " Well done, captain, well done ! " 
 
 Jack glowed with pleasure. The lieutenant in his uniform 
 shook hands with his father. He said : 
 
 " Well done, skipper ! You were right, after all." 
 
 Jack did not like the word " skipper," he did not know 
 why. He was all hot with pride of his father. He slipped 
 his hand into his father's wet hand. His father turned to 
 Gibby with sharp command : 
 
 " As soon as Newton comes ashore, give him hot grog in 
 the kitchen and see that there is hot water ready, and hot 
 blankets." 
 
 Gibby answered : " Ay, ay, sir ! " . . . 
 
 Jack could not remember how he got home, or even how 
 many were saved ; but he could always see the black wreck 
 and the cowering people and the sheets of spray, and always, 
 
GREAT DAYS 
 
 in spite of the howling wind and the roar and lash of the 
 waves, he could hear that faint cheer. . . . 
 
 A little later, vague alarm in the inn. Gibby hurried in 
 at nightfall and talked to his father about the Preventive 
 men ; the lieutenant was coming to search. His father sent 
 Gibby to the fishing-smacks for men Riding and Chips, 
 Widdison and Newton all of them ; they hurried up, a 
 dozen or more. Jack on the watch saw them take kegs from 
 stable and barn and carry them on their shoulders down to 
 the harbour the back way. He wondered whether they were 
 the men he saw through the pantry windows years before 
 bringing in the kegs. For hours they worked hastily, 
 silently. Then his father told Gibby to sling a couple of 
 kegs on the brown mare and take them to Lieutenant 
 Myring's house and leave them there. Gibby seemed 
 surprised. 
 
 " You fool ! " cried his father, " if he refuses and sends 
 them back we are no worse off ; if he accepts them there'll 
 be no more searching." 
 
 " But he can find nothing," said Gibby. 
 
 " Do as you are told, booby ! " his father growled. 
 
 Hours later Jack, hearing men talking, crept downstairs 
 and saw in the kitchen the big lieutenant with three or four 
 of his men. The officer seemed half-apologetic. 
 
 " We had to search, you know, Morgan. One of my men 
 got information. Glad to find there's no foundation for 
 the report." 
 
 But he looked angry, Jack thought, not glad. His father, 
 he noticed with wonder, was much smaller than the lieu- 
 tenant. He was smiling, and offered drinks which Nancy, 
 
GREAT DAYS 
 
 the barmaid, brought ; the lieutenant waved them off, 
 then bowed to Nancy and said something, smiling. His 
 father persisted in offering drinks, but the lieutenant paid 
 no attention to him. Jack hated the lieutenant, could not 
 understand why his father was so nice to him. 
 
 The last picture was at the door : the lieutenant, with the 
 reins in his hand, talking to Nancy. He suddenly put his 
 left arm round her waist and stooped to kiss her, but Nancy 
 ducked quickly and avoided him. She tossed her hair back 
 and said something saucily ; the lieutenant laughed and, 
 swinging himself on his horse, called out of the dark : 
 
 " Good-night, Nancy ; you'll soon see me again. Good- 
 night." 
 
 " Good-night, sir," in reply, and the clatter of horses' 
 hoofs on the street. . . . 
 
 His mother, all shaken and frightened, was weeping 
 silently. His father went over to her, saying : 
 
 " Go up to bed, Mary, go to bed, dear." 
 
 " Oh, Tom, the dreadful life ! " was all she answered. 
 As she turned to the stairs she told the boy and his sister 
 to come with her. Still weeping she put them to bed. 
 
 Jack lay awake for a long time in the darkness ; again and 
 again he saw the lieutenant standing over Nancy at the door, 
 and Nancy looking up in his face with saucy eyes, smiling. 
 
 A Sunday morning later ; church bells ringing. Jack 
 had the usual discomfort of good clothes, collar, and stiff 
 boots. They all went to church and sat in a big, high, 
 square brown pew. Windows were pretty. The boy 
 studied the faces and figures of saints in the painted glass. 
 He thought the music lovely. He liked church better than 
 
8 GREAT DAYS 
 
 chapel. Why did his father ever go to that mean chapel 
 with the common, ugly people ? Church was jolly, he 
 decided. The words and rhythm of a great psalm stuck 
 in his memory like the music and the glow of the pictured 
 faces : 
 
 " Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace according 
 
 to Thy word " 
 
 He was charmed and impressed, though he could not say 
 why. 
 
 When they got up to sing, his sister stood on the hassock 
 and craned up to see Lady Barron. He pulled her down. 
 When the rector, Mr. Carrol, began to preach, the boy 
 laughed ; the thought struck him that perhaps his chum, 
 Fred Carrol, would one day be stuck up there under the 
 dark canopy to preach and pray. His father glared at him ; 
 his mother put her hand on his. . . . 
 
 The church was warm ; Jack got restless. With his toe 
 he found a little hole in the floor under the bench and he 
 rooted at it to make it bigger, wondering whether he would 
 be able to work a hole through. The wood was old and 
 crumbly, and he soon got his toe under the board ; then he 
 prised and prised till something gave. He went on rooting 
 and prising till suddenly a long splint broke off with a loud 
 crack. He looked up guiltily and caught his father's angry 
 frown ; he stopped, a little frightened. 
 
 Later he discovered a new game. He noticed that if he 
 leant for some time against the back of the high pew some- 
 thing stuck, probably some remnant of varnish. He leant 
 back for some time intent, then bent forward suddenly 
 with glorious result the squeak of the cloth being pulled 
 away from the sticky place. Again his mother's hand was 
 
GREAT DAYS 
 
 laid upon his. His father glared at him and cleared his 
 throat loudly. 
 
 When they came out of the church they met Sir George 
 Barren and his party, Sir George, a florid, portly man, 
 elaborately dressed, carrying a cane ; he came over to them 
 loftily important. His father took off his hat and bowed 
 low. Sir George waved his cane and said patronisingly : 
 
 " So our friend the lieutenant found nothing, eh, 
 Morgan ? " 
 
 " Nothing to find, Sir George," replied his father, smiling 
 obsequiously, at which Sir George laughed loudly. 
 
 " Well, well ! I'm glad to hear it for your sake." Turn- 
 ing towards his carriage he added : " By the way, send me up 
 a dozen kegs of your best, Morgan, will you? I'm having some 
 friends down from town Lord Petre, and and the rest." 
 
 His father bowed and promised. 
 
 Jack hated it all. What did it mean ? Since the night 
 on the beach his father had been a hero to him. Why did 
 people treat him so ? How did they dare ? He remembered 
 that the lieutenant called him " skipper." Why did Sir 
 George Barren speak like a superior ? 
 
 As they walked home he did not listen to the talk. He was 
 wondering why all the boys made up to young Barren at 
 school, why the masters never gave him a punishment, why 
 young Crosby was always about with him. He disliked 
 Crosby, who was the head of the class and could read Latin. 
 He wondered why sums were so much easier to do than Latin. 
 What did Latin mean ? What was the good of Latin, any- 
 way ? Did people ever say " mensa " for table ? What 
 idiots they were ! School would be jolly if there were no 
 lessons ; games were fun lessons beastly. ... 
 
io GREAT DAYS 
 
 The Awakening. 
 
 One of his delights still was going downstairs at night to 
 get food : Jack was always ready to eat. One night every- 
 thing was quiet in the house ; his mother was ill. He stayed 
 in her room for hours. He loved his mother ; she was 
 always gentle, kind. Could she be angry, he often wondered, 
 like his father ? She never was even cross. 
 
 His father came in, talked a little, kissed his wife, and went 
 away. Emily, his sister, came in and talked for a while ; 
 she wanted to know whether she should sit up with mother. 
 The mother said " No," she had better go to bed ; she 
 would send for Nancy to sit up if she wanted anyone, but 
 she would be all right by herself. Emily kissed her " good- 
 night " and went to bed. Jack reflected vaguely that his 
 sister slept alone now and he had the bedroom to himself. 
 A little later his mother saw him yawning, so kissed him and 
 sent him to bed. 
 
 " It's getting late," she said ; " I'll try to sleep." 
 
 As he crossed the corridor to go by the back stairway he 
 heard a vague noise. He listened, but everything was 
 quiet. He went into his little room and put off his slippers, 
 and then out of curiosity returned again to the stairs and 
 crept down a flight. He heard scuffling ; there was some- 
 one in the kitchen. Was it Nancy, the barmaid ? Who 
 was it ? 
 
 Jack crept down another flight, avoiding the stairs 
 which creaked, then bent down and peeped into the great 
 kitchen. 
 
 There was a dull fire of logs on the hearth, just enough to 
 see by, and there two figures struggling his father and 
 Nancy, the barmaid. In a moment the boy saw that his 
 
GREAT DAYS 11 
 
 father had his arm round Nancy's waist and was drawing her 
 across the room, the girl resisting. . . . 
 
 As they passed in front of the fire his father put his arm 
 round her neck and drew her head back and kissed her on the 
 mouth. The girl seemed to yield for a moment (Jack was 
 gasping with excitement), then, bracing both hands against 
 the man's chest, she pushed him away. . . . 
 
 His father drew her to him again and kissed her. She 
 did not seem to resent the kisses, but as soon as he tried to 
 draw her across the room she resisted. Why ? 
 
 Suddenly his father renewed the struggle. There was 
 something fierce in his embrace which excited Jack's anger ; 
 he realised all at once that his father was trying to get her 
 to the big settle at the side. As they came close to it the 
 girl wriggled down out of his father's arms, and almost got 
 free ; but his father stooped quickly, picked her up, and 
 laid her down on the settle. The boy caught a glimpse 
 of white petticoat and the gleam of white, round limbs. 
 It made him angry with his father, he did not know 
 why. 
 
 His father pushed the girl back ; she struggled up ; he 
 pushed her back again. Suddenly there was an exclamation. 
 His father moved away. The boy saw red on his hand ; 
 Nancy had bitten him. The girl got up and whispered 
 sulkily : 
 
 " It's your own fault. ... I told you I wouldn't with 
 her up there, sick." 
 
 His father looked at her and sucked his wounded hand. 
 
 " Let me do it up," she said. 
 
 His father pushed her away : " You peevish bitch," he 
 said angrily, in a low voice. 
 
12 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " I don't care," she whispered defiantly, putting up her 
 white arms to tidy her hair. 
 
 For the first time the boy saw that her arms were white 
 and round and pretty ; with a shock of intense surprise he 
 realised that Nancy was very pretty. 
 
 In a whirl of sensations and emotion, hate of his father 
 and wild excitement, Jack stood breathless with dry mouth 
 and burning face. His father turned towards the stairs. 
 The boy stole away to his room. His bed was cold ; he was 
 shivering. 
 
 Again and again he recalled the scene, tried to see more. 
 
 Why was he so excited ? Why did Nancy ? Without 
 
 words he realised, thrilling, something of what it meant. . . . 
 
 His childhood was gone. 
 
GREAT DAYS 13 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 NEXT morning, still vibrating from the shock of the 
 new emotions, Jack went to say " good-morn- 
 ing " to his mother. To his surprise he saw 
 her as he had never seen her before : her pallor struck him, 
 and her weakness ; her eyes he noticed were large and dark, 
 her hands like wax. Full of a new pity, he asked her how 
 she was, and tried to do little things for her. When he was 
 going she called him to her and kissed him : 
 
 " My boy's getting to be a man," she said. 
 
 Downstairs things were as usual : his father spoke to him 
 in the old, quick way, looked as he had always looked out of 
 sharp grey eyes. If his left hand had not been bound up, 
 Jack might have thought he had dreamed the scene of the 
 previous evening. He studied Nancy curiously. Yes, she 
 was pretty, he decided, her eyes deep blue, her skin white, 
 her hair, too, jolly with strands of gold in the chestnut waves. 
 
 Nancy must have felt the new scrutiny, for she exclaimed 
 pertly : 
 
 " Well, you'll know me again, I hope." 
 
 Jack turned away a little confused. He did know her 
 now, he felt, as he had not known her before ; he saw her 
 differently and in detail, so to speak. 
 
 His eyes had been unseeled for certain persons and for 
 certain things as well. 
 
GREAT DAYS 
 
 A day or two afterwards he was out walking with his chum, 
 Carrol, the son of the rector. They had climbed the village 
 street to the downs behind, and suddenly the whole scene 
 and its beauty became visible to Jack. He saw how the two 
 great arms of land bosomed the bay, how the little harbour 
 below, with its fishing-smacks and boats, was sheltered by 
 the pier, and how the beach away to the right was dappled 
 by patches of black shingle on the yellow sand ; but the 
 marvel to him was the revelation of loveliness in the whole 
 scene : it was a picture, he said to himself, awestricken. 
 Even the great Head opposite was superb, the green slopes 
 of it flecked here and there with dark woods up to the bare 
 bluff front, where you could lie on your face and look down 
 on the watery plain six hundred feet below. It was all 
 beautiful, a picture ! 
 
 From this time on he began to realise everything more 
 clearly. He noticed now that Carrol was slight and rather 
 pale ; one day he wondered what he himself looked like. 
 
 " How do I look, Fred ? " he asked a little shyly. 
 
 " All right," replied Carrol carelessly. 
 
 Jack felt ashamed to press him, but as soon as he got to 
 his room again he looked at himself in the glass and was dis- 
 appointed. He did not like his face at all : the nose was too 
 prominent, the ears too large, the eyes commonplace blue. 
 His taste, formed unconsciously by the regular features and 
 fine colouring of Nancy, found fault with his ruder, more 
 energetic, modelling ; he did not notice the quick changes 
 of expression, the vivacity and bold resolve which redeemed 
 the irregularity of his features. He was ugly, he said to him- 
 self, with a sinking almost of despair. 
 
 Bit by bit life became conscious to him, its pains and 
 
GREAT DAYS 
 
 pleasures more noticeable, or, at any rate, more memorable. 
 He disliked being reproved by Dr. Crosby for not knowing 
 his Latin grammar ; he began to try to learn it, and soon 
 succeeded and came to the head of the class with young 
 Crosby. 
 
 The delights of living were innumerable : the long after- 
 noons of football and its even battles ; ball, too, and tig, 
 and the school rivalries of running and jumping, to say 
 nothing of the holiday walks with Carrol, and great swims. 
 
 He could never forget one wild March day when Carrol 
 took him out on the Head to get a raven's nest. Thanks 
 to his occasional fishing trips in one of his father's smacks 
 he was easily the best climber in the school. He was delighted 
 to be asked to climb the tree, but when he found that it 
 sprang from the edge of the cliff and hung right over the 
 water, and was swaying about in the high wind, he did not 
 much like the job. 
 
 A remark of Carrol's decided him to attempt it. 
 
 " I had no idea it was blowing so," Carrol cried. " Here 
 it almost knocks you down. You could get the nest if it 
 were calm, couldn't you ? " 
 
 " The top of the tree's jolly thin," Jack replied ; " it 
 doesn't look as if it would bear." 
 
 " Confound it ! " cried the younger boy ; " that brute 
 Crosby will crow so, and I hate him. He said no one could 
 climb that tree ; and I've watched the nest for weeks and 
 I'm sure there are eggs in it." 
 
 The mention of Crosby's rivalry decided Jack at once ; 
 in ten minutes he had climbed the tree and returned with 
 one egg in his mouth and another in his pocket. 
 
 " Aren't they beauties ? " cried Carrol, holding the grey- 
 
16 GREAT DAYS 
 
 green treasures in his hand. " May I have one ? " he 
 added wistfully. 
 
 " Both," cried his companion magnanimously ; " you 
 found 'em. I only got J em because you wanted them and 
 Crosby said I couldn't. What a brute he is," he added ; 
 " I'm sure we'll have a fight yet." 
 
 " Father says we'll be fighting with the French soon," 
 said Carrol. 
 
 " The French can't fight," Jack declared with authority. 
 " Gibby says Englishmen are stronger because they eat beef 
 and not frogs and snails. Fancy eating a slimy snail. Ugh ! 
 Some day I'll be captain and have my own ship. You must 
 come as lieutenant." 
 
 " My father won't let me," replied the other lugubriously. 
 " I'll have to stick at home ; father wants me to study to be a 
 parson, though I'd hate to spout and pray and look solemn." 
 
 In such talk the two youngsters made their way down the 
 hill, meaning to take the long road home. A mile or so 
 inland they came to the wood which bordered Sir George 
 Barren's place, The Court, and here they began chasing 
 blackbirds and thrushes and pelting them with stones. 
 
 The sport was cruel, but that had never struck the 
 youngsters ; it gave them half an hour or so of huge excite- 
 ment, and, incidentally, limbs of steel and lungs of leather. 
 This afternoon they arrived at the end of the park with a 
 blackbird apiece and were quite content. Suddenly they 
 were hailed by a couple of boys who greeted them with 
 the superiority of seniors. One was young Cecil Barren, 
 the other Will Crosby, the son of the master of the grammar 
 school. 
 
 Cecil Barron was slight and good-looking, with delicate, 
 
GREAT DAYS 17 
 
 fair complexion, bold, hawklike nose, and large blue eyes. 
 Crosby, though six months younger than his companion 
 only just fifteen, in fact was much bigger than any of the 
 others, a loose-made, shambling fellow, with big hands and 
 feet and head. Strange to say, though rather a bully, he was 
 a favourite in the school ; but between him and Jack Morgan 
 there had always been a certain tension and rivalry, for, if 
 Crosby were the better scholar, Jack was his superior in most 
 games, perhaps because being smaller he had come nearer 
 his full growth, and was therefore better knit and quicker. 
 
 " What have you got there ? " cried Crosby roughly when 
 the couple came within hearing. 
 
 " A couple of blackbirds," replied Jack. " Wouldn't you 
 like them ? " he added derisively. 
 
 " You had better not let one of our keepers catch you with 
 them," warned Barren enviously ; " my mother thinks it 
 cruel to hunt birds, and she has given orders to the keepers 
 to stop it." 
 
 As Jack admired young Barren, the reproof hurt him, and 
 reduced him to silence. 
 
 Carrol, however, created a diversion by crying out : 
 
 " Jack climbed the tree, Cecil and got the raven's eggs," 
 he added, showing them in his hand. 
 
 " They're not raven's eggs, after all," said Crosby malici- 
 ously, " but crow's." 
 
 " You only say that," retorted Carrol, " because you're 
 jealous. You said no one could climb the tree, and Jack 
 climbed it, though it's blowing like anything, and it bent 
 over till I thought it was going to break off." 
 
 " They're not raven's eggs, I tell you," repeated Crosby, 
 taking one in his hand* 
 
 C 
 
1 8 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " Oh yes, they are," replied Jack Morgan, "and you know 
 it." 
 
 " You're a liar," replied Crosby insolently, and in his 
 excitement he pinched the egg till it broke. 
 
 " You brute ! " cried Jack, thinking he had broken the 
 egg on purpose. " We'll soon see who's the liar," he added, 
 beginning to take off his coat. 
 
 " No, no," cried Barren, coming between the two, " don't 
 you fellows fight ; it's only cads who fight with fists ; gentle- 
 men fight with swords." 
 
 " Let him apologise then," cried Jack, still hot with 
 indignation. 
 
 " Come, Will ! " said Barron, appealing to his companion, 
 " it's no good rowing for nothing." 
 
 " I only said he was a liar," replied Crosby sulkily, " because 
 he said I knew they were raven's eggs, and I don't know them. 
 How could he tell whether I knew them or not ? " 
 
 " There you are," said Barron, turning to Morgan ; 
 " that's all you want." 
 
 " No, it isn't, he broke the egg and called me a liar," 
 replied Morgan. " He must beg pardon or fight." 
 
 " I'll fight fast enough," retorted Crosby, pulling off his 
 coat. " I'll give you socks, potboy." 
 
 " Are you all deaf ? " cried a loud voice impatiently, and 
 as they turned at the sound they found themselves face to 
 face with a gentleman mounted on a big brown horse. 
 " What's the matter ? " he asked imperiously. 
 
 The boys looked at each other. Barron was the first to 
 recover himself. 
 
 " They've been disputing," he said, " and the lie was 
 given. But no gentleman fights with fists." 
 
GREAT DAYS 19 
 
 " Who are they ? " asked the horseman. 
 
 " That's the son of Dr. Crosby," said Barren, " master of 
 the grammar school, and this is Jack Morgan." 
 
 " The Morgan who keeps the ordinary in the village ? " 
 asked the stranger. 
 
 " Yes," replied Barron. 
 
 " Well, you had better not fight," said the horseman, 
 " but show me the road. Does this path," he went on, 
 pointing to the bridle-path which crossed the wood, " lead 
 to the village ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Jack, " it joins the main road at the edge 
 of the wood." 
 
 " Whom have we had the pleasure of speaking to ? " 
 asked young Barron with a sort of negligent grace. 
 
 The rider looked down at the lad with an amused smile : 
 
 " And who are you, may I ask ? " 
 
 " Cecil Barron," replied the youth, a little proudly. 
 
 " My name's Nugent Captain Nugent, at your service," 
 said the horseman, smiling. 
 
 " And now I'll bid you good-day," he added ; " but don't 
 fight, you two ; there'll be fighting enough for everyone 
 soon, if all I hear is true," and with that he put his horse to a 
 canter and soon disappeared among the trees. By tacit 
 consent the boys broke again into couples and went their 
 way, the two elder into the woods, the two younger after 
 the captain towards the village. 
 
 Jack Morgan had fallen silent ; he had been touched by 
 two things : the courtesy of Barron and the instant response 
 it called forth from the captain, which moved him to a vague 
 envy ; the other was Crosby's epithet " potboy " and some- 
 thing contemptuous in the tone of the captain when he 
 
20 GREAT DAYS 
 
 spoke of his father and the " ordinary " in the village. He 
 felt keenly that for some reason or other he was looked upon 
 as of lower class than his companions, and for the first time 
 he realised his connection with the public-house with a 
 sense of shame. 
 
 " What are you thinking about, Jack ? " said Carrol after 
 a while in silence. " Crosby isn't worth it." 
 
 " I wasn't thinking of him," Jack replied ; " I was wonder- 
 ing if 'twas cruel to chase birds." 
 
 " Rot ! " cried Carrol. " Barron only said that to annoy 
 you ; he thinks you too cheeky." 
 
 " I'd rather be cheeky than conceited," replied Jack, but 
 Barron's dislike annoyed him, and he added : " He can keep 
 his old birds for me." He felt hurt and humiliated. 
 
 In a short time the two boys came to the village and separ- 
 ated in the High Street, the one going to the rectory, which 
 lay up to the left under the lee of the church a couple of 
 hundred yards away ; the other to the village inn, which 
 formed a sort of centre to the village. The inn was opposite 
 the green, and separated from it only by a great chestnut 
 tree. Both the tree and the inn had a certain notoriety. 
 The tree was over a hundred years old, it was said, and was 
 still a fine specimen of its kind ; round its base was a circular 
 oak settle which was much frequented on fine summer 
 evenings by the village worthies. 
 
 The inn itself, the Robin Hood, dated from 1609, and 
 showed not only in name but in its furnishing a good deal 
 of that romantic attachment to the past which is part of our 
 English heritage. It was a large, two-story building, with 
 diamonded broad windows on either side the broad low door. 
 On the right side of the passage was the ordinary the dining- 
 
GREAT DAYS 21 
 
 room, as it was called later with a long, narrow refectory 
 table in it and wheel-backed chairs. On the other side was 
 the parlour ; behind the parlour the bar ; and behind the 
 ordinary the kitchen. As Jack made his way along the 
 passage he heard his father's voice. He passed the bar into 
 the great kitchen which looked out on the back. 
 
 There were four or five people in the kitchen : his father 
 and mother, Gibby, and the cook. There was besides a 
 tramp, a weedy-looking little man of perhaps forty, with 
 sparse grey hair, watery, red-rimmed eyes, and reddish 
 nose. 
 
 " Now, my man," said his father as Jack entered, " if you 
 don't get out of this you'll be up before the Justices. You'd 
 have penal servitude if I had my way." 
 
 The tramp, awed by the contempt of the host's words 
 and manner, slunk out of the door into the passage and 
 disappeared. 
 
 Turning to his wife Morgan went on : " Missis, missis, 
 you mustn't encourage these rascals ; why give good meat and 
 bread and beer to such a lazy, worthless sot ? " 
 
 " Ah, Tom," exclaimed his wife, turning towards him, 
 " you must lave me alone in me kitchen ; we shan't miss the 
 bits of food." One could not help noticing the soft Irish 
 brogue in her speech. 
 
 " But he doesn't deserve it," said the father with a sharp 
 voice ; " he's never done an honest day's work in his life, 
 I'll warrant." 
 
 " Well, and what of that ? " said his wife, turning again 
 to the work ; ..." he was some poor mother's son, wasn't 
 he ? and hungry." 
 
 In his new-found consciousness Jack began to wonder 
 
22 GREAT DAYS 
 
 vaguely why he liked his mother's reply ; the pitying kindness 
 of it warmed his heart, and yet he could not make out why 
 it should, for his father was probably right : the tramp was 
 merely a lazy, worthless loafer. Still, his mother's loving 
 kindness and generosity appealed to him intensely. 
 
 Suddenly out of the dim past his memory called up another 
 phrase of hers which he had forgotten and indeed at the 
 time had not even noticed. Some women were in the kitchen 
 talking of a young baby ; Jack was not interested in the 
 subject. One declared the child was too weak to live, 
 another chimed in : "A good thing too ; it's main ugly." 
 His mother turned on her reprovingly : " No baby's ugly 
 that has all its features." 
 
 Why the words had stuck in his memory Jack could not 
 imagine ; even now he saw nothing of the trembling, deep 
 mother-instinct which inspired it ; but he felt vaguely 
 that she was always kind to everyone. 
 
 Why did he like what his mother said so much ? Jack 
 worried his brains in vain. All she said and did touched him, 
 made him love her, though he thought her " soft," as 
 Gibby often said she was. While dwelling on his love for 
 her he suddenly felt disloyalty to his father in his over- 
 great affection for her ; but his father, too, was splendid, he 
 said to himself, recalling the shipwreck. . . . 
 
GREAT DAYS 23 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 JACK soon discovered that Captain Nugent was 
 right ; all the talk in the inn and on the quay was 
 of the French and their wild Revolution, which had 
 been brought about, some said, by the bad winters and 
 terrible distress. Jack had heard echoes of the French doings 
 for some time past, but most of the news went in at one ear 
 and out at the other. The fall of the Bastille, however, had 
 shaken the world, and within a week the report of that 
 thunder-clap reached Hurstpoint, for the village was only 
 a few miles from Dover, and Dover was within a day's sail 
 of the French coast at Calais. 
 
 English feeling at first was strongly in favour of the 
 popular revolt ; men hoped it would end in the establish- 
 ment of what they called " free institutions " ; pictures 
 were sold of " the Goddess Liberty seated on the ruins of the 
 hated Bastille restoring the crown to a repentant monarch." 
 English caricaturists even went so far as to portray Marie 
 Antoinette as " a drunken Messalina." 
 
 But all this changed quickly ; when Parliament met in 
 January, 1790, it was to hear men grow eloquent in praise 
 of the British constitution and in condemnation of " the 
 anarchy and licentiousness," which they declared reigned in 
 France. The truth is, as soon as the English governing 
 classes got wind of what they were pleased to call the 
 
24 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " insane doctrine of equality " promulgated by the Paris mob 
 and the fish-wives, they veered round and began to heap 
 extravagant abuse on what they had been extravagantly 
 praising for months past. It was natural enough for the 
 nobility to side with the French aristocracy in defence of 
 class privileges, and this aristocratic feeling filtered down 
 through all the strata of the English commonalty, till you 
 found beggars violent in defence of the privileges which had 
 brought them to destitution. Mere race antagonism was 
 stronger than any other feeling. 
 
 All this while from his fourteenth to his sixteenth year 
 Jack was perpetually plaguing his father to let him go to sea. 
 For reasons he could not divine his father at first would 
 not hear of it, but the boy's impulse was too strong to be 
 overcome. He was always down at the little port talking 
 to the sailors, forever begging to go out on this cruise or on 
 that. The wild, free life and the desire to see other countries 
 worked as a ferment in him. When he was about sixteen 
 his father made the last stand and came to a partial con- 
 cession. 
 
 " A sailor's life is a dog's life," he said to the boy, " and 
 you'll have money when I die. I'm a good bit older than 
 people think, and I want you in the inn. Hard knocks and 
 hard tack is all you'll get at sea." 
 
 But Jack's mind was made up. War had begun to be 
 talked about as something inevitable, and the excitement of 
 it and the idea of victory tempted him irresistibly. At 
 length his father consented with some reluctance to let him 
 go on board the Dolphin, and at any rate try a sailor's life 
 under favourable conditions. 
 
 Jack knew something already about the craft and the 
 
GREAT DAYS 25 
 
 crew. The Dolphin was a cutter of about forty tons burden 
 which his father had had built according to his own design. 
 He wanted speed above everything, and his idea was that a 
 ship to be fast should have the shape of a fish the dolphin, 
 for preference, or the dog-fish ; a fairly bluff bow, that is, 
 with a long, tapering quarter " a fine run," as sailors 
 term it. 
 
 The idea must have had something in it, for both Morgan's 
 smacks were faster and more seaworthy than any other small 
 craft about the coast. 
 
 Jack's first fishing cruises taught him something about the 
 men. The skipper, Bill Gosport, was a fine sailor, knowing 
 all waters and weathers, and even more at home in a big, 
 square-rigged ship than a cutter. Though hardly above 
 middle height he was broad and strongly made, his face rough- 
 hewn, dark and forceful, his manner sullen ; a silent man 
 who only talked at all to those he trusted or liked. He had 
 been in the American navy, but why he had left it no one 
 could divine, for he had nothing but praise for it. 
 
 Jack's prime favourite on board the Dolphin at first was a 
 sailor called Weetman. He seemed to Jack of a better 
 class than the rest ; and Jack was unconsciously a good deal 
 of a snob, with an inborn love of distinction which had 
 shown itself already in his admiration of young Barron and 
 his courtly manners. Weetman's language was above his 
 station, and though Jack felt that the fellow was not really a 
 gentleman, yet he was always amiable, and even after Jack 
 found out that he had periodical fits of drunkenness he could 
 not resist the charm of the sailor's chanties which Weetman 
 trolled out in a rich baritone voice. Weetman, too, was the 
 only sailor on board, except Gosport, who had knocked about 
 
26 GREAT DAYS 
 
 the world. He had learned negro songs and dances in the 
 West Indies, and his considerable mimetic power revealed a 
 new world to the boy's eager imagining. 
 
 Looking back after some years over his first cruise Jack 
 could not help noticing that the men whom he liked best at 
 first and who made the deepest impression on him were not 
 the best or even the most important. He knew Gibby, 
 Weetman, Gosport, and Knight almost immediately, but 
 Newton and Riding he only came to appreciate after long 
 experience. Good men he found, like most other good 
 things, take some time to fathom. 
 
 There was a great deal in his father's trade which Jack 
 did not understand even at sixteen. He had already made 
 many fishing cruises, and had noticed that when they came 
 across a shoal of herrings or of mackerel the catch glutted 
 the village, and in consequence the fish were almost worth- 
 less ; herrings often sold for twopence a hundred, and 
 mackerel even cheaper. What then was the good of fishing ? 
 And why were the smacks so large and fast ? Smaller and 
 less expensive craft would have supplied the demand. 
 
 Jack's first real cruise taught him the answer to all such 
 questions. His father took him on board the Dolphin one 
 afternoon, while Gibby followed them, shouldering Jack's 
 small sea-chest. There was a little cabin in the stern of the 
 Dolphin where Gosport and Riding messed, and this tiny 
 room made up at night three berths, one of which was set 
 aside for Jack. The rest of the men slept in hammocks in 
 the fo'castle. 
 
 On the way down to the quay his father surprised Jack. 
 
 " I'm going to treat you from now on," he said, " like 
 any other sailorman." 
 
GREAT DAYS 27 
 
 The boy was intensely pleased. 
 
 " I shall offer you drink as I do the others, but I want you 
 to promise me you'll take no spirits till you're over twenty- 
 one. A glass of wine won't hurt ye." 
 
 Jack promised eagerly. To be treated like a man was worth 
 any sacrifice. 
 
 When they got on board his father showed him where to 
 stow his things and where he was to sleep. He then called 
 Gosport and Riding down and had a talk with the two over 
 glasses of rum grog. In the aftertime Jack could never forget 
 the thrill of delight he felt when his father said to him 
 carelessly : 
 
 " Will you have a glass, Jack ? " 
 
 " No, thanks," replied Jack valiantly. " I'm not going 
 to drink at any rate," he added, " not yet," for he had 
 caught a look of surprise on Gosport's face. At the same 
 moment Riding broke into an uproarious laugh which Jack 
 could not understand at the moment. 
 
 " It's about time for the equinoctials," his father re- 
 marked a little later. " In a week or so we should have 
 dirty weather and dark nights." 
 
 Gosport nodded. 
 
 This was all that appeared at the time significant to Jack, 
 but he noticed just before leaving the cabin that his father 
 gave Riding a pocket-book. 
 
 Jack followed him to the quay when he landed. In 
 silence the pair walked together to where the land rose 
 sharply. 
 
 " Take care of yourself, my boy," said his father, stopping 
 and shaking hands, " and don't be rash. Your blood's too 
 hot. You'll have to learn prudence. Remember what I 
 
28 GREAT DAYS 
 
 say and keep a quiet tongue in your head ; least said soonest 
 mended." 
 
 Suddenly a light seemed to flood Jack's mind. " We're 
 going smuggling ? " he questioned. 
 
 His father turned on him. " You're perhaps going to 
 Bordeaux," he said, " and not Boulogne ; see everything and 
 say nothing." 
 
 " Why did you give the money to Riding ? " the boy 
 persisted. 
 
 " I trust Riding with money," his father answered, "and 
 Gosport with the smack. They're a good pair. Now be a 
 man and keep your own counsel. Learn all you can and be 
 cautious." 
 
 As the boy turned away and walked along the quay he 
 felt mightily uplifted. His father had treated him like a 
 man, and already he enjoyed the feeling of a man's power 
 and a man's responsibility. When he got on deck the crew 
 were at the windlass heaving up the anchor, and Weetman's 
 voice rang over the water in a chanty whose freedom 
 delighted the lad : 
 
 Round the rock and into dock ; it's " Welcome home, my lover ! " 
 Out of dock and round the rock ; it's " Go to hell, you lubber ! " 
 
 The anchor was soon apeak, and when the men came 
 amidships to hoist the mainsail Jack could not help tailing 
 on to the main halyards with them while Weetman struck 
 up the second chanty, which he used to call " Jack Ashore." 
 
 When Jack he comes ashore all the gals he does adore, and they 
 
 love him while he has a brown, 
 But with crimps and drinks and gals he's soon emptied like his 
 
 pals, and all his happy luck is down. 
 
GREAT DAYS 29 
 
 But Jack he carries on, till his credit is all gone, and the landlady 
 
 meets him with a frown, 
 Then he turns again to sea, and sets her running free ; and so 
 
 bids farewell to the girls of the town. 
 
 The next morning when Jack awoke and came up on deck 
 there was nothing to be seen but sea and sky not a sail, not 
 a glimpse of land. 
 
 " Where are we ? " he asked big Newton, who was steer- 
 ing, " and where is the Mary ? " 
 
 " We lost her in the night," said Newton, looking down 
 significantly at the compass in front of him. Jack saw that 
 the course was south-east and by south, and took the hint. 
 
 All day long they held the course without sighting a 
 vessel. In the afternoon one incident taught him more 
 about the character of the skipper and the men than months 
 of ordinary companionship. He noticed with pleasure 
 when he came up on deck that Gosport kept all the ropes 
 coiled down neatly, man-o'-war fashion, and the decks 
 clean enough to eat from. The wind being on the quarter 
 and holding steadily they rigged out a square sail, and for 
 some reason or other, probably carelessness, Gibby coiled 
 down the rope he had in his hand very badly. 
 
 " Here," cried Gosport, " is that ship-shape, you lubber ? " 
 
 " Right enough," replied Gibby impudently, evidently 
 presuming on his position as a relative of the owner and the 
 fact that the owner's son was looking on. 
 
 " None of your lip," cried Gosport, and with the word 
 struck him heavily in the face. Gibby attempted to strike 
 back, but the next moment was hurled down by a furious 
 rush of the skipper. Though not yet come to his full size 
 Gibby was so big and powerful that Jack had thought he 
 
30 GREAT DAYS 
 
 could easily beat any of the men on board. Now, to his 
 astonishment, Gibby lay on the deck for some seconds with- 
 out moving, and as soon as he struggled to his knees he was 
 felled again by another heavy blow which covered him with 
 blood. 
 
 The brutal cruelty of the blow roused Jack's anger and 
 disgust, and he sprang to Gosport's side and caught hold of 
 his arm. 
 
 " Don't do that," he cried ; " you'll kill him." 
 
 Gosport threw the boy off and for a moment looked as if 
 he would strike him ; then he turned again to the prostrate 
 Gibby. 
 
 " Get up, ye swab," he cried, kicking him savagely in 
 the ribs, " get up and flemish that rope down man-o'-war 
 style." 
 
 Gibby rose slowly, and to Jack's astonishment took hold 
 of the rope and began to lay it in a Flemish coil. As soon 
 as Gosport saw that he was obeyed he turned and went aft 
 without more ado. Jack could not help looking with pity 
 at Gibby's white, bleeding face, but he quickly discovered 
 that the brutal correction had no softening effect on the 
 men ; indeed Knight took the occasion to laugh and jeer 
 at Gibby. 
 
 " Ah, fat boy," he cried, " so ye got a warming, did ye ? " 
 
 " I'll give you one, if you don't look out," growled Gibby. 
 
 " Come and try," jeered Knight. " I'll beat ye so that 
 yer mother won't know ye, ye d d swine ! " 
 
 Jack gazed at him in astonishment, for Knight was thin 
 and slight in comparison with Gibby. Evidently he had 
 been mistaken in all his estimates. 
 
 A little later he took the opportunity of asking Weetman 
 
GREAT DAYS 31 
 
 whether he thought Knight could beat Gibby ? Weetman 
 was not inclined to talk about them, but he said : 
 
 " Knight, you see, is half a gipsy, and Gibby hasn't come 
 to his strength yet. Knight might beat him now, though 
 in five or six years more Gibby'll probably be stronger than 
 anyone on board." 
 
 " Isn't Gosport a brute ? " Jack questioned further ; but 
 Weetman would only answer : " He's the skipper," and 
 drew away. 
 
 Jack understood that his father was right ; there was a 
 good deal to learn even on board the little cutter, and not 
 much use in talking. He began to look at all the men with 
 a more curious and more discerning eye. 
 
 The wind held fair and strong on the quarter all day, 
 and the next morning they altered their course to the 
 eastward, and two hours later came in sight of the sand dunes 
 and piney hillocks of the French coast. That evening they 
 picked up the lights at the entrance of the river, and some 
 hours after midnight anchored off Bordeaux. In half an 
 hour the douaniers came on board, and to his surprise Jack 
 found that Riding could talk French fluently, while Gosport 
 and Weetman seemed to understand most of what was said. 
 In a few minutes all the formalities were fulfilled and every- 
 one turned in. The boy could hardly sleep for excitement. 
 
 Next morning they warped alongside the dock, and Jack 
 was wonder-filled with the new sights and sounds and 
 odours : the quays flooded with sunshine, the strange lingo, 
 the polite people who took off their hats to everyone, and 
 called everyone " citoyen" the fisher-girls who laughed and 
 made signs to him. Gosport gave one watch their liberty, 
 and Riding asked Jack if he would like to go with him into the 
 
32 GREAT DAYS 
 
 town. Jack assented and accompanied him to quiet office 
 after office, but between whiles they traversed streets and 
 squares gayer, brighter, and noisier than any Jack had ever 
 imagined, and Riding's few words of explanation made most 
 things clear. They dined in a little restaurant. Jack had 
 never had so tasteful a meal or one so well served ; the white 
 linen, the thin wine, crusty bread and black coffee every- 
 thing delighted him. 
 
 The early afternoon was spent on board with Riding 
 invoicing kegs of brandy and seeing them stowed away by 
 Knight and Widdison, the port watch. But after four the 
 work was all done and Riding and he went up into the town 
 again while Widdison, who looked like a German, though he 
 came from Ipswich, washed and made ready with Knight 
 for the night's enjoyment. Their steps led them idly 
 towards the centre of the town, or perhaps they followed an 
 unacknowledged attraction, and went with the majority of 
 people. Whatever may be the cause, Riding and Jack soon 
 found themselves in front of the Hotel de Ville, or Mansion 
 House. It was a sort of centre for a great concourse of 
 country people who seemed for the most part to be workers 
 in vineyards and day labourers ; most of them were equipped 
 or armed with the instruments of their calling, quaint three- 
 pronged picks or pitchforks. The sight of them horrified 
 Jack ; their poverty, their destitution, was almost incredible. 
 No one had decent clothes ; nearly all men and women 
 alike were half-naked spectres of famine with skeleton 
 limbs, naked feet thrust into open wooden shoes, and pinched, 
 pale, hatchet faces. As he skirted the crowd, one scare- 
 crow after another brought Jack to gasping. A couple of 
 old women in particular drew his eye : one witch with wisps 
 
GREAT DAYS 33 
 
 of grey hair about her shoulders was dressed in a man's 
 cast-off trousers, which she held together with a square of 
 brown carpet that half hid her hanging brown breasts and 
 stringy turkey-neck ; the other had nothing on but a coarse 
 straw sack beneath which her wizened legs stuck out like 
 the black branches of a tree in winter. The boy was all 
 amazement as he passed by quickly ; he felt ashamed even 
 to see such misery. 
 
 Of a sudden the side door of the Hotel de Ville opened and 
 a distribution began of loaves of bread. The people pressed 
 towards the door hungrily, but Jack could not help remark- 
 ing a certain restraint, a certain courtesy even, which 
 astonished him. He noticed, too, that as a rule the men 
 began at once to eat the long sticks of bread, while the women 
 carried them off intact, evidently to be shared at home with 
 those whose needs were still greater than their own. 
 
 " Why are they hungry ? " he asked Riding. 
 
 Riding could only shrug his shoulders and ask one of the 
 passers-by for information. 
 
 " The people think it's the king and the nobles who pre- 
 vent them from getting bread," said the Frenchman, with 
 the indifference of the well-to-do. " There is no govern- 
 ment, no order," he went on, " no one knows from day to 
 day what will happen. We feed the starving, but things 
 get worse ; the loaves of bread don't go round," and indeed, 
 while they were looking on, the door of the Mairie was shut 
 and the crowd in front swayed to and fro, cursing and 
 gesticulating indignantly ; every now and then shouts 
 with menace in the tone : 
 
 " Bread, bread ! ... we must have bread ! " 
 
 Jack could not get the famine spectres of women and 
 
 D 
 
34 GREAT DAYS 
 
 children out of his head ; at length the puzzle of it and the 
 wretchedness of the people became so painful to him that 
 he ached to get away from it all. He felt in tutelage, too, 
 so long as he walked with Riding, and he wanted to be free ; 
 he burned to get with the others and enjoy life. 
 
 " Why shouldn't we join the others ? " he asked at length. 
 
 " You don't want to get drunk, do you ? " replied Riding, 
 " and spend what money you've got to buy a sick headache." 
 
 " No," said Jack, struck by the reasonableness of the 
 appeal, which, however, did not satisfy his curiosity or his 
 desire of emancipation. 
 
 A little later they met another crowd of famished people 
 who had evidently heard of the distribution of bread at the 
 Mansion House, and were hurrying to share in it. These 
 late-comers tore along, frantically eager and excited, and 
 Jack and Riding were tossed apart by them and separated. 
 Jack made no particular effort to discover his companion, 
 and as soon as he found himself alone he made his way to 
 the dock and the little quay-side cafe, where the English 
 sailors were taking their pleasure after their own fashion. 
 
 Jack's entrance was greeted with shouts of joy. 
 
 " Have a drink, Jack ? " cried Gibby, who had a fat 
 woman on his knee at one end of the low table which stood 
 in front of the bar. 
 
 " Come here, lad," cried Weetman with a hiccup from the 
 end of the room to the left, " and I'll baptise you." 
 
 Smiling at Gibby and his frowsy companion as he passed, 
 Jack went on towards Weetman. He was horrified to see 
 that Weetman's companion was an old woman who leered 
 at him and called him " Mon chou" though she was older 
 than his mother and had only two black teeth in her mouth. 
 
GREAT DAYS 35 
 
 He was so taken aback that he stared at her, and the more 
 he stared the more she leered, and the yellow-black stumps 
 in her lower jaw waggled as she smiled. 
 
 " Viens done, mon petit chou ! " and she made a place for 
 him. 
 
 Weetman must have noticed Jack's shrinking, for he cried 
 out boisterously : 
 
 " Come on, lad, come on and have a drink," and he poured 
 out a glassful of red wine as he spoke and pushed it across 
 the wet table towards Jack. 
 
 " Nothing like an old fiddle for a good tune, lad," he went 
 on ; " have a drink, and I'll give ye a song and dance 
 eh?" 
 
 " A dance and song, old man," cried Widdison from the 
 other side of the room ; and at once Weetman rose and began 
 promenading up and down, while an old fiddler, whom Jack 
 had not seen huddled up against the corner of the bar, began 
 to play a sort of dance tune. Weetman's antics interested 
 Jack intensely. Excited as he was he kept time to the music 
 with heel and toe ; indeed the drink, casting off restraint, 
 lent an inimitable touch of savagery to his caricature of a 
 negro-buck showing off. 
 
 After calling on them all to join in the chorus, he began 
 to sing ; even the landlord behind the bar beat time on his 
 zinc counter, while his little beady black eyes danced with 
 amusement. 
 
 My ole massa promis' me : (Chorus) Bowna get a home bime by. 
 When 'e die 'e set me free : (Chorus) Bowna get a home bime by. 
 
 When this had been sung twice the refrain came in with a 
 strange lilt of poetry, which added the last touch of spiritual 
 reality to the grotesque display. 
 
36 GREAT DAYS 
 
 So wayhay, you water-lilies, to the land ob music we shall fly, 
 Pm a-gwine to join the gay old band, Fse gwine to get a home 
 bime by. 
 
 Again the dance went on with renewed vigour and 
 indecent gestures, while Weetman rolled out the next verse : 
 
 My ole massa, dead and gone : Bowna get a home bime by. 
 He's dead and gone, an j a good job, too : Bowna get a home 
 bime by. 
 
 Again the refrain : 
 
 So wayhay, you water-lilies, to the land ob music we shall fly, 
 I'se gwine to join the gay old band, Pse gwine to get a home 
 bime by. 
 
 In spite of himself Jack could not help laughing and join- 
 ing in the chorus. " So wayhay, you water-lilies," was 
 irresistible, and " Bowna get a home bime by," sang itself 
 to the ear. 
 
 " Another drink," cried Weetman, stopping in front of 
 the bar ; " drinks all round, you black-eyed lubber," 
 he cried to the landlord, adding, " You must drink, 
 too.' 
 
 The landlord got up, smiling, and the whole throng 
 crowded together in front of the bar and drank a fiery 
 Schnapps. Jack waved the glass of wine which had been 
 given to him by Weetman and drank a sip or two of that. 
 As they thronged to the bar he noticed that Widdison's girl 
 was black-eyed and rather good-looking. Then suddenly, 
 as she turned to him, he saw that she had a dreadful squint. 
 She smiled at him ingratiatingly, and the smile had some- 
 thing unearthly in it, for one eye seemed to be looking at 
 his feet, while the other was gazing straight into his. 
 
 After drinking, the crowd all lurched back to their seats, 
 
GREAT DAYS 37 
 
 while the fiddler struck up again and Weetman began 
 again in front of the bar his fantastic imitation of the 
 negro-buck. There was something intensely comic in Weet- 
 man's dancing, something intensely vivid and real in his 
 caricature of the negro dandy, strutting and posturing ; 
 and the quaint words of the song bit the picture in unfor- 
 gettably : " Wayhay, you water-lilies. . . ." 
 
 In the intervals between the songs and dances and the 
 drinks all round, Jack's eyes were drawn irresistibly to the 
 women. Knight, he noticed, had a mere girl, a slip of a 
 thing that did not appear to be more than fifteen, though 
 she was probably eighteen or nineteen. She was so under- 
 sized and thin that she reminded Jack in some vague way 
 of the famine-spectres of the Mansion House. She was 
 shy, too, for he looked at her again and again before he 
 caught a glimpse of her face ; and then was astonished 
 by the life and quick withdrawal of dark eyes. 
 
 Weetman's old woman was evidently the leader of the 
 gang ; she continually led the conversation in broken 
 English pieced out with words of French a jargon which 
 seemed intelligible to everyone, though Jack found difficulty 
 in understanding it. Widdison's black-eyed girl with the 
 squint kept contradicting her, and every now and then 
 the two had a hot altercation in French, which appeared 
 to amuse both Weetman and Widdison, for they showed 
 their approval by inciting their companions one against 
 the other, as if they had been dogs. Meanwhile Gibby's 
 frowsy fat partner drank silently, perseveringly, as indeed 
 did Gibby himself. Jack noticed once that when she turned 
 on his cousin's knee to laugh at the old woman she utilised 
 the position to slide her hand into Gibby's pocket and 
 
38 GREAT DAYS 
 
 take his purse, which she slipped into her dress immediately 
 with the adroitness of long practice. 
 
 Suddenly the old woman called on Berthe to dance. 
 Berthe was Knight's girl, and the two sat interlaced in 
 the dark corner mouth on mouth. She could not be made 
 to attend for some time, and when the call did reach her 
 she pretended not to hear, and went on kissing. But after 
 one or two calls the old woman scurried across and dragged 
 the girl, in spite of her resistance and mutinous face, into 
 the middle of the room, while screaming to the fiddler 
 for a new tune. As the music struck into a wild measure, 
 the girl began to dance with all sorts of strange contortions 
 which showed off her slim body. The old woman cried 
 to her : 
 
 " Enleve ta robe, enleve ta robe." 
 
 The girl made a face back at her, but when she sub- 
 stituted the cry : " Take off de dress," the sailors all joined 
 in : " Off with the dress ; off with the dress." 
 
 The girl stopped for a moment and pulled off her dress 
 and then took the floor again, dancing now with a wild 
 grace and complete abandon. Still the old woman was 
 not satisfied. 
 
 " Up wid yer jupe ; up wid yer jupe ! " she kept squealing, 
 and the sailors howled, laughing : " Up with it, up with 
 it." 
 
 At length, casting all shame to the winds, the girl seized 
 her thin orange petticoat in both hands, and, pulling it 
 up, tied it between her legs in a knot, so that her round 
 brown legs were exposed to mid-thigh, while the upper 
 part of her breast and arms were also bare. Again she 
 began to dance ; the music grew faster and faster, and she 
 
GREAT DAYS 39 
 
 pirouetted and whirled about till she reminded Jack of a 
 russet leaf spun about in a high wind. The naked, round 
 brown limbs and lithe figure had a feverish fascination for 
 him. He stared with all his eyes. He had no notion that 
 the human body was capable of such writhings, and there 
 was something lustful and exciting in the mad delirium 
 of the posturing. Suddenly the performance was ended 
 by the girl coming crash to the floor with her legs out- 
 stretched in the " splits." 
 
 Jack looked at the girl curiously while she rose, undid 
 her petticoat, shook herself, and slid into her dress again 
 like an eel. She must have felt his gaze upon her, for while 
 buttoning her dress she lifted her eyes to his. Her gaze 
 pierced Jack to the soul ; there was physical contact in 
 it, and as she passed she suddenly seized his head in her 
 hands and kissed him on the mouth. 
 
 " Ce gosse me va," she cried. 
 
 " Belay that," cried Knight from his dark corner. " I 
 can give ye all ye want, ye bitch." 
 
 Jack sat dazed, with burning face and throbbing heart, 
 unable to think or move, so intense was the sensation. 
 
 At a word from the old woman the black-eyed girl with 
 the squint began to sing a sentimental wailing ditty in 
 which all the women joined. All at once, in the middle, 
 Gibby's fat companion, who had been singing with a hoarse 
 contralto that told of rum and night air, burst into tears, 
 which enraged the old woman, who came over to her and 
 shook and slapped her. Suddenly the tears ceased and the 
 frowsy one retaliated, scratching the old woman's face till 
 the blood came. In a trice the bottles on Gibby's table 
 were thrown over, and he was flooded with the contents, 
 
40 GREAT DAYS 
 
 while the two women tore out each other's hair by handf ills 
 and scratched and thumped each other till the squinting 
 girl and Weetman separated them. 
 
 When peace was at length re-established, Weetman was 
 called upon for another song, and, in spite of the fact that, 
 as Gibby said, his " back teeth were awash," he got up 
 again and began lurching about while humming a negro 
 hymn tune, which the fiddler, however, found difficulty 
 in fitting with music. But the sailors would not have the 
 hymn. Widdison shouted for a bawdy song, and all the 
 rest joined in ; and at length Knight took the floor, hum- 
 ming a tune which the fiddler caught at once ; then, in 
 a clear tenor, he began a weird gipsy song : 
 
 When my Dimber Dell I courted 
 She had youth and beauty, too, 
 Wanton joys my heart transported, 
 
 And her wap was ever new. 
 But conquering time doth now deceive her, 
 
 Which her pleasures did uphold ; 
 All her wapping now must leave her, 
 (Repeat) For, alas ! my Dell's grown old. 
 
 All your comfort, Dimber Dell, 
 
 Since you've lost your flower prime, 
 Is that every cull can tell 
 
 You have not misus'd your time. 
 There's not a prig or palHard living 
 
 Who's not been your slave inroll'd. 
 Then cheer your heart, and cease your grieving ; 
 (Repeat) You've had your time, tho' now grown old. 
 
 The success of the song appeared to annoy Weetman, 
 who soon grew angry with Knight and rolled across the 
 room " to knock eyes into him," as he said ; but on the 
 way he staggered into a seat and fell to snoring. The old 
 
GREAT DAYS 41 
 
 woman and the landlord carried him bodily into his corner 
 and left him to sleep in his armchair. 
 
 Weetman's drunken rage had a curious effect on Jack ; 
 it seemed to awaken him and make him conscious of some- 
 thing squalid and bestial in the whole scene. As long as 
 the men were excited and gay he had been excited, too, 
 and worked up ; but as the drunkenness became maudlin 
 the sordid brutality of the orgy revolted him. 
 
 He watched his opportunity, and when Gibby's back 
 was turned managed to get out of the door and found 
 himself in the cool night. 
 
 He did not want to go on board the ship at once ; sleep 
 was impossible to him. His head was hot with the fetid 
 atmosphere, his blood aflame with the unaccustomed wine 
 and the new sensations. He walked about the docks and 
 stood long in the moonlight, drawing in deep draughts of 
 the cool, sweet, sea-scented air. Towards midnight he went 
 below and turned in. But the girl's clinging lips followed 
 him in his dreams. 
 
42 GREAT DAYS 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE next day passed for Jack in a whirl. He noticed, 
 half-unconsciously, that bales of silk done up in 
 oil-cloth were taken on board all the morning ; 
 he knew, too, that about midday Gosport and Riding made 
 up their minds to return home at once. The hold was 
 nearly full, the cargo valuable, and the weather looked 
 threatening, the clouds banking up as if for a westerly gale. 
 Jack took no part in the discussion, and kept aloof from 
 the ordinary work. He was strangely silent. Life had 
 crowded in on him too quickly. He could not assimilate 
 all the previous day had brought him. He had been shaken 
 by extremes of pity and of passion, and his spiritual centre 
 of gravity, so to speak, once disturbed, took some time to 
 settle down and adjust itself. His deeper nature was all 
 a-quiver. 
 
 New knowledge, too, had flowed in on his mind like a 
 tide. He felt now that he knew Weetman and Widdison, 
 Gibby and Knight better than he had known anyone 
 in the world the previous day. He half divined Berthe, 
 too, in her precocious sensuality, and the old woman in 
 her miserly greed and resolution ; he knew them both far 
 better than he knew his own sister. 
 
 He went about half-dazed by the new, glaring light 
 thrown on all things. He saw, without looking, that the 
 
GREAT DAYS 43 
 
 sailors were all upset by the previous night's debauch ; 
 even Weetman could not raise a chanty as they hoisted 
 the canvas and stood out to sea, almost in the teeth of a 
 sou'-wester. 
 
 When they had gained an offing and set the course for 
 home the wind was fair, and as it rose to a gale shortly 
 after six o'clock the little craft skimmed from roller to 
 roller like a sea-bird. 
 
 In the next day or two Jack's mind came quietly to its 
 new moorings. The true hierarchy of the little crew be- 
 came clear to him ; he saw that the Gibbys, Widdisons, 
 and Knights, and even the Weetmans, hardly counted. He 
 noticed, too, that Riding talked to him much more freely 
 than aforetime. 
 
 On the fifth day the gale increased steadily and the 
 waves ran high. Towards nightfall they raised the English 
 coast, and about ten o'clock were opposite Hurstpoint ; 
 they hove to about seven miles from land and waited, but 
 the seas broke over the little craft in green mounds, and 
 they had to rig out a sea-anchor to protect her. At mid- 
 night precisely they showed two lights, one above the other 
 " Is the coast clear ? " In a moment a red light appeared 
 in the inn " Great danger." 
 
 What was to be done ? Had a blue light appeared, 
 which signified that the coastguard were alert, they might 
 have risked something ; but the red light meant worse 
 than risk. What was it ? 
 
 Gosport and Riding met in the little cabin to decide, 
 and Riding asked Jack to come with them. Gosport thought 
 that the gale was only beginning, and advised an immediate 
 retreat from the dangerous lee-shore ; Riding proposed to 
 
44 GREAT DAYS 
 
 up the coast out of sight of any eyes that might be 
 watching about Hurstpoint. Riding's view was adopted, 
 and when the morning broke they were forty or forty-five 
 miles away to the nor'ard. 
 
 Gosport was mistaken in one thing ; the gale had blown 
 itself out ; by noon it had died away to a fitful, light 
 breeze, and the sea, too, was going down. By midnight 
 they were again off Hurstpoint, and again asked the same 
 question with the lantern, with the same result. What 
 was the meaning of it ? 
 
 In the meantime Jack had been thinking the matter over. 
 The red light shown twice could, he thought, only be 
 explained in one way, for neither Gosport nor Riding had 
 ever had two such warnings in succession : a revenue- 
 cutter, he guessed, was lying in wait in the little port. It 
 would, therefore, be impossible to " run " their cargo. At 
 the same time Jack felt that if, under these conditions, the 
 coastguard men could be outwitted they might believe in 
 future that the Dolphin was only used for legitimate trading. 
 Could this be done ? 
 
 He thought it might be managed, so he proposed to 
 load the boat with brandy and sink the kegs half a mile 
 outside the breakwater, so that they could be fished up at 
 any favourable moment ; they would, of course, be buoyed. 
 If he were then landed on the other side of the Head he 
 could tell his father where the brandy was, and leave it 
 to him to regain possession of it later. But could anything 
 be done with the silk ? 
 
 " Certainly," Riding broke in, " it can be left with our 
 agents at Boulogne, and kept there till the coast's clear." 
 
 Jack's plan was therefore adopted, and a few hours later 
 
GREAT DAYS 45 
 
 he found himself walking over the headland towards the 
 Robin Hood. 
 
 His father let him into the inn, and was delighted that 
 it was his son who had divined the presence of the 
 revenue-cutter ; he approved, too, of all that had been 
 done. 
 
 A couple of days later the Dolphin appeared with half 
 a load of fish purchased from a French fishing-smack at 
 Boulogne, and the revenue men, after searching in vain for 
 contraband, took their craft to sea again. 
 
 A week later the brandy was in the Robin Hood, and 
 the bales of silk on their way to London. 
 
 That first cruise, and especially the experiences at Bor- 
 deaux, had worked a revolution in Jack ; they had turned 
 him from a boy into a man. When he met his school- 
 fellows again in the street or on the quay they seemed to 
 him to be children ; even the gentlemen who came to the 
 inn no longer held his respect. When Sir George Barren 
 talked of the French as " wild beasts," and hoped that Pitt 
 would soon declare war and exterminate them all, he did 
 not know whether to laugh or merely shrug his shoulders ; 
 he saw again the starving figures in front of the Hotel de 
 Ville, and recalled the touching courtesy which they had 
 shown in spite of their hunger. Even when Captain Nugent 
 made fun of the new doctrines of equality and fraternity, he 
 no longer carried Jack with him ; the youth felt that there 
 was a good deal to be said on the other side. 
 
 From this time dated a certain estrangement between 
 Jack and his former associates and surroundings, which 
 became perhaps the chief fact in his mental life, for this 
 alienation forced him to think for himself on all matters, 
 
46 GREAT DAYS 
 
 and so the distance between him and the villagers of Hurst- 
 point increased continually. With Riding's help he began 
 to study French, and now learned more in an hour than 
 he had learned at school in a year. In a short time he 
 understood all that was said to him, and was able to explain 
 himself to some extent in the strange tongue. 
 
 He was encouraged, too, by feeling that he had grown 
 in influence with his father and the sailors. Riding had 
 evidently given him the credit for divining the presence 
 of the revenue-cutter and the subsequent plan which saved 
 the cargo, and both his father and the others now treated 
 him as someone whose opinion was worth having. Their 
 respect gave him self-confidence and trust in his own judg- 
 ment, and this self-confidence and the habit of thinking 
 for himself were both fostered by the life he led. 
 
 In the next year he made several trips to France ; now 
 to Havre, now to Bordeaux. Boulogne was, of course, 
 nearer, but the road to Boulogne was strewn with fast 
 English revenue-cruisers, which made smuggling impossible. 
 Indeed, as the English dislike of the French and their doings 
 grew and intensified, smuggling became more and more 
 difficult, and Jack's first cruise in 1793 was destined to be 
 his last smuggling cruise for many a year. 
 
 He chose mid-January for the expedition, and arrived 
 at Bordeaux in wild weather on the twenty-third. To his 
 astonishment he could scarcely recognise the town. It was 
 all in an uproar. The bells were ringing from a hundred 
 steeples, the tocsin sounding at every corner ; the country 
 people had crowded into the town and mingled with the 
 townsfolk, who were all in the street. News had come that 
 the traitor king had been executed in Paris the baker 
 
GREAT DAYS 47 
 
 monarch who had refused bread to his people. That and 
 the great victory of Dumouriez at Jemappes were in every- 
 one's mouth. Strange to say, the victory over the Austrians 
 seemed to the Bordelais more important than the execution 
 of the king. The victory at Valmy had been only a partial 
 victory, and might have been the result of chance, but 
 Jemappes was a glory, and made all Frenchmen realise their 
 essential unity. What did the king matter ? What, after 
 all, did any traitor matter ? Ca ira ; $a ira. In spite of 
 foreign invasion, Ca ira ; the very paving-stones of the 
 street gave tongue triumphantly. 
 
 The poverty and distress, however, had not diminished ; 
 famine still stalked the land : one in every three persons 
 without even potatoes enough to eat, unnumbered thousands 
 of children perishing of starvation and cold. The loss and 
 fear had turned mothers into maenads and furies, as Jack 
 was soon to see. But for the moment famine, destitution, 
 death itself were forgotten, swallowed up in wild exultation. 
 Joy shone from every face. Strangers embraced, kissing 
 each other on both cheeks ; elderly citizens went about 
 waving their hats and cheering ; the younger folk danced 
 along singing and shouting. In front of the Hotel de Ville 
 Jack saw thousands dancing the " Carmagnole " round three 
 gigantic bonfires, which threw the leaping, tossing figures 
 into fantastic silhouettes. 
 
 Hope and Joy had awakened their sleeping sister, Charity ; 
 good, kind people true gentlefolk these, and not traitors 
 and aristos had come together in a great subscription, 
 don patriotiquf 9 and bread and wine had been distributed. 
 Ca ira, ga ira. As they danced round the bonfires, and the 
 warmth penetrated to the chilled bones, the women and 
 
48 GREAT DAYS 
 
 men kicked off their sabots and danced barefooted higher 
 and higher. Ca ira ! Ca ira I 
 
 All night long the town was drunk with the heady new 
 wine of victory and hope, and in the morning, and for many 
 a morning after, proof of the new courage was to be seen 
 on every hand. The killing of the king had got rid of an 
 incubus : everyone felt lighter now that the old man of 
 the. sea had been shaken from their shoulders. But soon 
 the leaden cloud of poverty and destitution settled down 
 on them again, inexorable necessity pressing heavily. But 
 now they no longer felt inclined to suffer in patience, now 
 they would strike back ; and they struck savagely, blindly. 
 News came to Bordeaux that chateaux were being burnt 
 in every direction ; the " defenders of the fatherland " 
 were out in force everywhere, and with them red 
 ruin. 
 
 For some four or five days Riding found it almost impossi- 
 ble to do any business. The cognac merchants were not in 
 their offices. Every night he met Jack with a story of fresh 
 disappointments. But the first brandy merchant he saw 
 changed his tune. The paper money, the " assignats," he 
 found, were everywhere discredited and looked on as worth- 
 less ; but gold, foreign coins or French, had risen in equal 
 measure. 
 
 The brandy merchants were eager to sell the old brandy 
 of ten or twenty years ago, the treasures of the cellar, at 
 the ordinary price of new brandy, and Riding made up his 
 mind to wait and bargain. Meanwhile he and Jack went 
 abput and watched events. Jack bought an assignat of 
 200 livres for two francs and kept it as a memento. 
 
 He was much amused to see that the land was being 
 
GREAT DAYS 49 
 
 taken by the people while the late king's head still figured 
 on the bond. 
 
 Two scenes from that time etched themselves indelibly 
 in his mind. He had been through the town for two or 
 three hours, and had been followed by a crowd of starving 
 children. He went about looking for a baker's shop to buy 
 bread with the small coins he had in his pocket, but could 
 find none open ; the bakers' shops were all closed. As soon 
 as the little ragamuffins divined his intention they swarmed 
 about him ; the knot of ten or twenty in a few minutes 
 became hundreds ; all little children of both sexes, half- 
 naked, who followed him in silence with hungry eyes, but 
 without begging and without entreaty. At length he found 
 a cheap restaurant and went in and bought some bread 
 and came out with the restaurant-keeper and distributed it 
 to the hungriest at the door. In a moment it was all gone. 
 The restaurant-keeper could only shrug his shoulders, and 
 the little white wedge-faces seemed to have increased and 
 not diminished in number. Again and again Jack went in 
 and bought bread for them till he had no more money in 
 his pocket. The pathos of it all drove him out of the town 
 into the country, and he did not return till nightfall. 
 
 As he passed through one street he came on a crowd of 
 poor wretches in front of a closed house, which he found 
 was that of a usurer who lent money till the Saturday night 
 d la petite semaine, as it was called. A number of the 
 poorest people had gathered in front of the door at night- 
 fall, so as not to be seen pawning their poor household 
 necessaries ; but Maitre Guyot, frightened by their numbers, 
 or by the tales of robbery that were going about, had shut 
 up his house and now lay close. As the crowd grew, some 
 
 
 
So GREAT DAYS 
 
 knocked on his door and became insistent. Just as Jack 
 came up, Guyot put his head, with an old grey nightcap 
 on, out of a window on the first floor and said he had 
 stopped lending ; he had no more money. Hope deferred 
 for hours had sharpened the temper of the crowd, and the 
 usurer's declaration that he had no money seemed to them 
 derision. Murmurs went up on all hands, and wild cries 
 of " Bread, bread," which soon became a hoarse, continuous 
 chant, lilted to a sort of measure : " Bread, bread ; we 
 must have bread " (" II nous faut du pain"). 
 
 Just above the usurer's door a lantern stuck out with 
 a flickering oil lamp at the end, and Jack, who had gone 
 up some steps of a house on the other side of the street, 
 could see by the flickering gleams a clear half-circle of the 
 tossing, gesticulating crowd. Suddenly a woman, who had 
 been waiting, found that the little baby in her arms had 
 died. The shock and loss turned her brain. Holding up 
 the tiny, half-naked figure, she screamed : " What'll you 
 lend on it, Guyot, now you've killed it ? " 
 
 The effect of the mad cry was startling. Guyot dis- 
 appeared as first one woman and then another rushed at 
 the shutters and shook them with skinny arms ; then the 
 foremost men began to beat upon the door, and in a moment, 
 as it seemed, the shutters were torn away, the windows 
 broken, the door battered down, and the mob surged into 
 the house. 
 
 From within came cries and shouts, torn with a scream, 
 and then the ringleaders burst out, dragging the owner 
 with them. One big man was holding the usurer by the 
 back of the neck and shaking him like a terrier a rat, and 
 to this man's arm a fury was clinging who had taken off 
 
GREAT DAYS 51 
 
 her wooden sabot and was beating the usurer's head with 
 it. As they came into the light Jack caught a glimpse of 
 the fellow's white face streaming with blood, wild-eyed in 
 an agony of terror. The next moment a rope was found, 
 and in a trice Maitre Guyot was slung up to the lantern 
 over his own door, his usury ended. 
 
 While he was still swinging the women went on beating 
 and scratching at him till they had torn all his clothes from 
 him and the corpse hung there naked, shameless, insensible. 
 
 Suddenly a woman, who had been clawing the naked 
 limbs in an ecstasy of rage, held up a long strip of flesh, 
 squealing : 
 
 " Look, look, there's no blood in him, the damned 
 miser ! no blood ! " and indeed the blood had ceased to 
 flow from the meagre body. The phrase and gesture lived 
 with Jack for years. 
 
 Meanwhile the house had been sacked from cellar to 
 roof-tree. Jack saw people munching the bread and meat 
 and drinking the wine they had found, while others of the 
 crowd were pulling on the usurer's clothes or wrapping 
 themselves in his bedgear. 
 
 Suddenly someone broke into a song, and immediately 
 the crowd began dancing the " Carmagnole " about the 
 door, the women kicking up their legs and exposing them- 
 selves in an outburst of savage joy and triumph. 
 
 Jack hurried away, but the scene went with him ; he 
 could always see the poor naked body of the usurer dangling 
 to and fro with the blood staining his forehead and face 
 and his legs, from which the flesh hung in strips like bark 
 a dreadful, ominous sign, Jack felt, a portent if ever 
 there was one. 
 
52 GREAT DAYS 
 
 Two or three days later the second picture. 
 
 Jack had learned that Tallien, with his bristly red head, 
 reigned now in Bordeaux, Tallien, the fiery hot man, and 
 Isabeau, his lieutenant, with their revolutionary followers, 
 " the red nightcaps," as they were called. By and by he 
 heard that the prison was filled with aristocrats who had 
 been found guilty and sentenced to death by Tallien's 
 Tribunal. Jack had seen the guillotine set up in the square, 
 but it was pure chance that he came across the cortege 
 taking the new criminals to their doom. First of all a 
 band of soldiers, rigged out, as it seemed to Jack, in the 
 queerest costumes. He could not take his eyes off their 
 steeple-like hats banded with yellow and gold. Behind 
 them came a detachment of town guards, all Bordelais, 
 whose only uniform seemed to be a cockade, the red, white, 
 and blue rosette of the new tricolour or national flag. 
 Then surrounding the prisoners' death-carts tramped a 
 band of Tallien's Bonnets Rouges, all in red caps with tri- 
 colour waistcoats, black trousers and spencers, with defiant, 
 long black moustaches for the most part, and enormous 
 sabres with brass handles, carved to represent a cock's head ; 
 and round these true defenseurs de la patrie wisps of ragged 
 children of both sexes, dancing, cheering, squealing in a 
 state of frantic excitement. 
 
 In the middle three tumbrils, high two-wheeled carts, 
 creaked along filled with prisoners, and accompanying 
 them a vast crowd of men and women of the lowest 
 class. 
 
 Jack stared with all his eyes ; he had never imagined 
 such mad rage or misery. Right in front of him ran men 
 naked to the waist, who paused every now and then to 
 
GREAT DAYS 53 
 
 shake dirty fists at the prisoners and scream insults at 
 them : " Scoundrels, traitors, aristos ! " Near him women 
 looking more like demons than human beings, one of them 
 clothed in nothing but a blanket held together by a broad 
 leathern girdle at the waist ; as she scurried along the blanket 
 now and then swung aside, showing her nudity, at other 
 times it flapped about her starved figure as a flag flaps 
 round its pole. Another fury with floating red hair, dressed 
 in a man's coat, which left her legs bare like a fowl's, went 
 shrieking by as if mad ; then came a knot all together 
 dancing like fiends and shouting jubilantly and gesticulating. 
 Never had Jack imagined such wild, hating faces ; they 
 fascinated him so that at first he took no notice of the 
 prisoners. 
 
 To his astonishment the first tumbril was almost filled 
 with naval officers in their uniforms. 
 
 " What have they done ? " he asked. 
 
 One of the crowd replied, passionately, spitting on the 
 ground with rage : 
 
 " The naval officers are all aristos" he cried, " traitors 
 to the people ; they must all be guillotined shortened by 
 a head." 
 
 " Tons, tons" screamed his neighbours " all of them, 
 all." 
 
 In the next tumbril were some ladies and gentlemen ; 
 seated in the middle one lady of stately figure. She was 
 perhaps fifty or thereabouts, with grey hair and set white 
 face of disdain. The women of the street screamed foul 
 words at her ; her dark eyes stared out past them with 
 absolute indifference. Suddenly a gentleman turned and 
 spoke to her. Jack stared ; he was the living image of old 
 
54 GREAT DAYS 
 
 Sir George Barren ; he smiled at the lady and waved his 
 hand contemptuously over the crowd with Sir George 
 Barren's very gesture. 
 
 In the third tumbril the miserable creatures huddled 
 together, and Jack saw only a young girl with pale, frightened 
 face ; the great dark eyes were too large for the white 
 triangle of terror which framed them. A long strand of 
 black hair had fallen over her shoulder and hung down in 
 front. She seemed half-unconscious with dread. Then 
 some more soldiers riding, the steeple-hats all barred with 
 red and gold, wasp-like, and all round and behind them 
 the mad crowd dancing, shrilling, shouting as if hell had 
 broken loose. 
 
 Suddenly the band struck up and, as if by magic, the 
 crowd began to take up the words of the song, shaking all 
 the spaces of the air with the wild challenge of the 
 music. 
 
 " What's that, what's that ? " cried Jack. 
 
 Riding questioned a passer-by. 
 
 " The song has come from Marseilles," he said ; " it's 
 the song of the Revolution. Splendid, isn't it ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed," cried Jack, his pulses beating high in 
 spite of himself, " splendid," and almost involuntarily his 
 voice joined in the great chant : 
 
 Aliens, enfants de la patrie. . . . 
 
 Long after the carts and crowd and soldiers had vanished 
 he could still hear the passionate defiance of the song, and 
 found himself humming the wild melody. 
 
 " What does it all mean ? " he asked Riding. 
 
 Riding stretched out his hands : " You know as much 
 
GREAT DAYS 55 
 
 about it as I do," he answered simply ; " but that's the 
 hymn of it, I think." 
 
 In silence they both went back towards the ship. They 
 had seen the Revolution in action, and had heard the defiant 
 soul of it thrilling to Heaven in the " Marseillaise." 
 
56 GREAT DAYS 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THAT visit to Bordeaux taught Jack that war be- 
 tween England and France was at hand. He knew 
 that Pitt was drifting and being pushed to war 
 by the so-called Tory elements and by King George III., who 
 always declared that his earlier concessions to the Whigs 
 had caused the French Revolution, as who should say a 
 whirling straw-halm had caused the wind. 
 
 The English, Jack knew, had become hostile and con- 
 temptuous, and now he saw that the French had grown 
 prouder than ever of their Revolution, which was abolishing 
 sectional differences of speech, costume, and thought, and 
 giving them an intanser national life and a national army 
 as well an army triumphant. The temper on both sides 
 was becoming irreconcilable ; the English were simply in- 
 capable of understanding the Revolution, the French were 
 impatient of criticism and resentful of unfriendliness. 
 
 When he reached Hurstpoint again he found that war 
 had been declared, and he was probably the only person 
 in the village, except Riding, who deplored the fact. The 
 gentry and clergy were alike jubilant ; once again the old 
 flag would go forth to victory. Even Mr. Carrol preached 
 warlike sermons, and the younger folk had all taken the 
 infection still more wildly. 
 
 Jack felt as if the people had gone mad. For the life 
 
GREAT DAYS 57 
 
 of him he could not see what there was to fight about, 
 and when he questioned his father and Riding he could 
 get no satisfaction. His father looked at the matter from 
 a purely business and personal point of view. He told 
 Jack at once that smuggling would certainly be easier now, 
 and he thought of killing two birds with one stone by 
 fitting out the Dolphin as a privateer. In this way she 
 might earn double money; he intended to take a hand 
 in the game himself. Jack was surprised to see the look 
 of greed that came into the old man's face as he talked. 
 The son began to realise that his father was utterly unlike 
 the hero he had made of him in his boyhood ; he was 
 avaricious, in love with money, intent on gain, cunning 
 rather than heroic. The growing conviction distressed 
 Jack ; for some time he refused to harbour the new image. 
 
 With every day, it seemed, the abyss between him and 
 his countrymen and even his nearest and dearest grew wider, 
 and his heart contracted in misery at the mere thought of 
 such estrangement and isolation. The young expect sym- 
 pathy and affection. For a long time he had no inkling of 
 the fact that such suffering brings its own compensation. 
 This alienation from kinsfolk and country was Jack Morgan's 
 Slough of Despond, the first stage of his pilgrimage. He 
 did not yet know that as the parting was inevitable the 
 sooner it came the better : cuts heal best in young flesh. . . . 
 
 There were long conferences in the inn parlour between 
 Riding and Gosport and his father, conferences in which 
 Jack sometimes took part. They all wanted to make the 
 Dolphin as fast as possible speed, as his father said, meant 
 power to attack and power to escape at will ; but Jack 
 was surprised to see that his father had called Chips, the 
 
58 GREAT DAYS 
 
 skipper of the Mary, into council. The truth is, Chips 
 was a born racing captain ; he could get more speed out 
 of a fore-and-after than anyone in Hurstpoint. By his 
 advice lead was substituted for the iron ballast, and " bon- 
 nets " were fitted to increase the spread of sail : " A capful 
 of wind makes all the difference sometimes," he said, and 
 everyone agreed with the suggestion. But the great dis- 
 cussion arose about the arming. Morgan suggested three 
 or four six-pound carronades, but Gosport scoffed at the 
 idea : " Popguns are no good," he declared ; " every ship 
 you meet will carry more guns and heavier. Make the 
 Dolphin a wasp ; give us one long eighteen-pounder and 
 ship it midships on a swivel, abaft the main hatch for choice, 
 and you have a weapon that'll do some damage." 
 
 Chips was afraid the recoil of the heavy gun would shake 
 the little craft to pieces and diminish her speed ; but 
 Gosport would not have it. 
 
 " It's only a question of pullies," he argued, " to dis- 
 tribute the strain." 
 
 Without having any particular reason to urge, Jack 
 agreed with Gosport and was glad to see that his father, 
 too, was convinced by the man's cocksureness. 
 
 The whole project might have ended in talk, however, 
 had it not been for that first of June when Admiral Howe 
 beat the French fleet off Brest. The victory called forth 
 an astonishing outburst of patriotic feeling, *nd while the 
 bonfires were still smouldering on all the heights Morgan 
 decided to send Gosport and Riding in the Mary to Ports- 
 mouth for the best possible cannon and a large supply of 
 ammunition. The Dolphin's crew was to be increased to 
 thirty men, all the best sailors being taken from the Mary y 
 
GREAT DAYS 59 
 
 which was to be left as a mere fishing-boat and tender to 
 help the Dolphin in the smuggling part of the business. 
 
 In a couple of months everything was ready. Morgan 
 had been to London and got the authorisation to fit out 
 the little craft as a privateer. Riding had bought the big 
 gun, and Gosport had had it mounted in the very centre 
 of the vessel. The swivel action and the tackling, too, had 
 all been tested with good results. With native conservatism 
 most of the seamen and all the onlookers on the quay 
 thought the great gun destroyed the look of the taut little 
 craft. " It makes her top-heavy," they said ; but they 
 really meant that it was new to them, and took away from 
 the cutter's trim lines. 
 
 " Let 'em talk," said Gosport ; " war is not a matter of 
 looks." 
 
 On one of his trips down to the vessel Jack was surprised 
 to meet Crosby walking with young Barren and Captain 
 Nugent. 
 
 " When do you start ? " asked Nugent. 
 
 " The day isn't fixed yet," was Jack's answer. 
 
 " I should like to come with you," cried Barren, his 
 fine face flushing with excitement. 
 
 " Don't be a fool," said Crosby contemptuously ; " a 
 privateer is next door to a pirate ; you couldn't have 
 anything to do with it." 
 
 " Why not ? " said Jack quietly. 
 
 " Because a Barron couldn't," said Crosby contempt- 
 uously. 
 
 Jack saw that the fellow was only trying to annoy him, 
 and so, with a nod and smile to Barron, he went his way. 
 Captain Nugent cried after him that he intended to see 
 
60 GREAT DAYS 
 
 them off and wish them luck. But the elder Morgan had 
 no taste for ceremonies. He went on board with Jack one 
 evening at nine o'clock, and within an hour they had 
 slipped out to sea under cover of the night. By daybreak 
 they were out of sight of land. 
 
 Jack was astonished to find that at the prospect of a 
 fight Gosport became a new man ; he threw off all his 
 sullenness, was full of suggestions, and took the lead in an 
 extraordinary way. The day was very calm, so Gosport 
 proposed to rig out a barrel and practice shooting at it 
 from a distance. The elder Morgan yielded to this very 
 reluctantly. 
 
 " It will make a great noise," he said, " and may bring 
 some big ships down on us. Besides, ammunition costs 
 money ; what's the good of playing at fighting ? " 
 
 " The good of playing at fighting," replied Gosport, 
 " is that, when the real thing comes, fighting will be playing. 
 Let me alone, governor, and in time you'll see I'm right." 
 
 The very first practice shot showed that he was right, 
 for the big gun carried away a couple of the pullies, and 
 in the recoil almost crushed Gibby, who was acting as 
 gunner's mate. But everyone was astonished to find how 
 close the big shot went to the mark within ten or twelve 
 feet of it, indeed, at three hundred yards. Only Gosport 
 was disappointed. He fitted a sort of wooden thing painted 
 white to the end of the cannon, and this time came even 
 nearer the mark. Riding was intensely interested ; said 
 he had never seen such good shooting ; but Gosport was 
 far from satisfied. He declared he could do very much 
 better, and would show them on the morrow that he could 
 hit the cask three times out of six in a calm sea, and go 
 
GREAT DAYS 61 
 
 quite close to it always. But he had already accomplished 
 a good deal ; he had convinced everyone who knew any- 
 thing about shooting of the truth of his theory, and had 
 inspired the crew with complete confidence in his skill. 
 
 As evening drew on they were favoured with a light air 
 from the west, and stood towards the French coast ; next 
 morning Jack found the land like a dim cloud under their 
 lee. They had got down, his father said, between the 
 Channel Islands and St. Malo, and had to keep a sharp 
 lookout. In the afternoon they picked out a couple of 
 big three-masted vessels close inshore, and soon found that 
 one was following them. They jogged along under easy 
 canvas, jib, and a three-reefed mainsail till the stranger 
 came into plain view, and then, realising that she was a 
 French frigate, they set all sail to increase the distance 
 between them. But the frigate did the like ; in a few 
 seconds she was covered with canvas from the royals to 
 the bulwarks, and looked like a great white cloud bellying 
 along. At first she gained on them, but as soon as they 
 clapped on the " bonnets " that Chips had proposed, and 
 a big square topsail, it was found that the little cutter 
 not only held two points closer to the wind than the French- 
 man, but also went faster through the water. It was only 
 a question of time, and she would weather her and lose her. 
 When the Frenchmen saw this they let their ship fall away 
 and sent a whole broadside at the little cutter. But all 
 they hit was air and sea. The sailors cheered and cheered 
 again, as they saw the shots splashing and skipping half a 
 mile away. The spirits of everyone on board rose higher. 
 Riding laughed his great laugh. 
 
 " We have got the heels of 'em all," he cried. 
 
62 GREAT DAYS 
 
 The discharge of the broadside was the last effort of the 
 French ship ; a little while afterwards she went about and 
 stood in for the land. An hour later the Dolphin, too, was 
 allowed to fall away and headed again for the French coast. 
 Next day, when they were off the Sables d'Olonne, they 
 caught sight of a French brig hull down ahead going their 
 way probably a coaster from Dunkirk bound for Bordeaux 
 for wine and brandy. The elder Morgan thought they 
 would have a look at her, and so they ran up the square 
 topsail and let the cutter travel free. In two hours they 
 could see the brig's hull. The Frenchman must have 
 noticed them, too, but he probably thought the Dolphin 
 too small to be dangerous, for he held on his course imper- 
 turbably and appeared to pay no attention to his pursuer. 
 As the Dolphin crept up suppositions and conjectures flew 
 about. From the fact that the brig did not try to avoid 
 them most of the sailors were inclined to believe that she 
 was armed. This view commended itself to the elder 
 Morgan. 
 
 " Pm afraid it's a trick," he said, watching the brig 
 carefully through half-shut grey eyes. " Keep your course 
 there," he cried to the helmsman ; " we'll pass her on 
 the weather so as to make sure. She's not worth much or 
 she'd try to get out of the way." 
 
 Gosport had made up his mind at once, and was busied 
 about his popgun, as he called it. He had adjusted the 
 white painted wooden thing near the muzzle of the gun, 
 and now he had arranged another just before the touch- 
 hole. As Jack was beside him, following his movements 
 intently, he explained the contrivance to him. 
 
 " They are sights," he said. " If you get this spot in 
 
GREAT DAYS 63 
 
 the centre of the V in front and on the object you must 
 shoot straight." 
 
 Jack was delighted with the contrivance. " What a good 
 idea," he cried ; " is it your own invention ? " 
 
 " No, no," said Gosport, " it's an American invention ; 
 it was the cause of nearly all their victories over our ships 
 in the late war. They had sights on their guns, and that 
 was the reason they shot so much better than we did." 
 
 " What do you think of the brig ? " cried Jack. 
 
 " A coaster," rejoined Gosport carelessly, " with probably 
 six-pound carronades on board and forty or fifty men." 
 
 " But can we beat her ? " cried Jack. 
 
 " You'll soon see," said Gosport, his heavy face alight 
 with confident energy. " Her little milk teeth won't do 
 much against our sting," and he slapped the big eighteen- 
 pounder as he spoke. 
 
 All this while the Dolphin crew were preparing for the 
 fight in the usual way : pistols were cleaned and charged, 
 cutlasses got out and belted on, and the narrow decks were 
 soon filled with men armed to the teeth, and hoping to 
 come hand to hand with the enemy. 
 
 In an hour the Dolphin was on the quarter of the brig 
 half a mile to windward. Morgan ran the Union Jack up 
 to the masthead and told Gosport to throw a shot across 
 the brig's bow just to bring her to. But Gosport was not 
 minded to waste his shot. He ran the cutter nearer still, 
 and then, after careful aim, fired. The bowsprit of the brig 
 
 * Gosport was undoubtedly right. Though never mentioned 
 by any historian, the sights which the Americans invented for 
 their cannon in the revolutionary war was one of the chief causes 
 of their naval superiority. 
 
64 GREAT DAYS 
 
 swayed about gracefully at the same moment and fell into 
 the water, dragging down at the same time the fore top- 
 mast and the jibs. In a second the brig was practically 
 a wreck, but the Frenchmen showed no fear. They managed 
 to yaw the brig, and four reports rang out ; but she only 
 carried six-pound carronades, so the shots did not do much 
 harm, though one of them chipped a piece out of the 
 Dolphin's mast. 
 
 " Keep her away there, you lubber, keep her away," 
 cried Morgan, to the helmsman ; " we can pepper her 
 without being touched." 
 
 The Dolphin then kept her distance, while Gosport fired 
 the big gun as carefully as he could. 
 
 Jack was surprised to see the excitement the cannonading 
 called forth among the sailors ; most of them had thrown 
 off their jackets, but Gibby and some of the rest had 
 stripped to the waist like prizefighters, and were yelling 
 and cheering and shouting obscenities at every shot like 
 madmen. 
 
 " Why don't you keep your clothes on and your mouth 
 shut ? " cried Gosport to him contemptuously. " Will a 
 cold help you to fight, ye swab ? " 
 
 Jack felt that Gosport 's cool, thoughtful attitude was 
 incomparably more dangerous than the attempt to whip 
 oneself into a rage. 
 
 The first few shots fired made little difference, though 
 each of them struck the brig, as one could see by the white 
 splinters flying. But the fifth shot had a tremendous effect ; 
 the little cutter by this time had forged right ahead of the 
 French brig, and the shot raked her deck, smashing two 
 of the carronades and killing five or six of the men. The 
 
GREAT DAYS 65 
 
 Frenchmen fought on pluckily ; they pulled two of the 
 carronades from leeward and put them in the place of the 
 disabled ones, and fired again at the English sloop. But 
 their shots fell short, while every one of the Dolphin's shots 
 struck home and did damage. 
 
 Jack felt at once that there could be only one end to 
 such a one-sided conflict ; he could not understand why 
 the French captain went on exposing his men to useless 
 slaughter. It was clearly only a question of a few minutes 
 and he must pull down his flag. Suddenly the " Dolphins " 
 began to cheer : feebly fluttering, the tricolour left the 
 mast and came down to the deck. Before the order was 
 given the Dolphin crew stood ready to let the boats down. 
 
 " Hold fast there," cried Morgan ; " load again, Gos- 
 port, and stand by to fire ; they might be up to some 
 trick." 
 
 Then he gave orders to lower away the gig and, at Jack's 
 request, put him into it with Riding and sent six men with 
 them to take possession of the brig. As they stepped on 
 board the vessel the French captain came forward and said 
 sulkily that he hoped for fair treatment. Riding took off 
 his hat and replied in French with all courtesy. 
 
 Jack could do nothing but stare at the ship's deck. The 
 brig was much larger than he had thought, and the deck 
 was a shambles, covered everywhere with splinters of wood 
 and splashes and puddles of blood. For the first time he 
 realised what the fighting had meant in bloodshed. The 
 brig had had sixty men on board, and the big eighteen- 
 pounder had done frightful execution ; nine men had been 
 killed outright and seventeen wounded. In the lee scuppers, 
 just opposite to them, there was a decapitated body in a 
 
 F 
 
66 GREAT DAYS 
 
 pool of blood, and the head, rolling about with staring 
 eyes, as if alive, turned Jack sick. All the fight had been 
 knocked out of the French sailors by the hopelessness of 
 the struggle. A phrase of Gosport's came to Jack's mind 
 as he looked at them all huddled together with downcast 
 faces in the waist of the ship : " You soon get tired of 
 fighting when you can't hit back." 
 
 In the meantime one or two of the officers at Riding's 
 request had taken the wounded men down below and were 
 attending to them. Riding arranged with the captain that 
 some of the French crew should clear away the broken 
 spars and rigging and ship one of the topmasts as a jib boom, 
 and so make it possible to sail the brig again. He sent the 
 gig to the Dolphin with Jack to give the news and bring back 
 a dozen men ; it would need at least that number, he 
 thought, to sail the brig to England and keep the French 
 crew in subjection. 
 
 The elder Morgan was delighted at Jack's account. He 
 rubbed his hands and told Jack that even without any 
 cargo the brig alone was worth four or five thousand pounds. 
 
 " She'll make us rich, my boy," he cried. " Now what 
 we must do is to get her home safely. Take some fifteen 
 men and Riding and get her shipshape as quickly as possible, 
 and let us start back. I shall hardly sleep till I see the 
 Head." 
 
 Jack filled his boat with men, calling first for those he 
 knew, chiefly old Dolphin men and, of course, Weetman, 
 whom he could not leave out. 
 
 In a few minutes all the Frenchmen were disarmed and 
 confined in the fo'castle, with Widdison armed to the teeth 
 as their guardian. The three officers and the captain were 
 
GREAT DAYS 67 
 
 transferred to the Dolphin. In a couple of hours the worst 
 of the damage had been repaired, jury spars rigged, new 
 sails bent, decks cleaned down, and all possible canvas set, 
 and the two vessels were moving side by side towards the 
 English coast. 
 
 A little before sunset a light breeze came off the land, 
 and at once the brig, her great square-sails all drawing, 
 began to make good way. Before the wind, at any rate, 
 she was at least as good a sailor as the cutter, for when they 
 got her fairly going they saw that the cutter had to run 
 out a square-sail to live with them. It soon became clear 
 that on this point of sailing the French brig, with her 
 greater power and length, was superior to the little fore- 
 and-aft sloop. As they slipped through the water at about 
 eight knots an hour the Dolphin could hardly keep up 
 with her big captive. 
 
 It was with the strangest feelings of pride and excited 
 wonder that Jack went down into the cabin about seven 
 o'clock to have his supper with Riding. The French cook 
 had prepared it ; he and his aide had volunteered for the 
 job, and Riding was only too glad of their willingness, for 
 even with twenty Englishmen on board the brig was rather 
 a handful. 
 
 The table was laid with white linen, and the pair sat 
 down to a good meal, washed down with excellent Bordeaux. 
 
 " Now this is what I like," said Riding, with one of his 
 great laughs. 
 
 " Yes," replied Jack ; " but the fight was not a bit what 
 I had imagined a sea-fight would be like." 
 
 " It could hardly be called a fight," said Riding ; " it 
 was great luck hitting his bowsprit first shot." 
 
68 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " The luck didn't matter," Jack persisted, " it shortened 
 the affair, but that was all ; we were always sure of winning, 
 thanks to Gosport's brains," he added. 
 
 " He's a great shot," laughed Riding, and Jack agreed, 
 but he was hardly satisfied with this view of the matter. 
 Gosport's example had taught him that victory in battle 
 was no longer a question chiefly of courage and endurance ; 
 in the future he felt it would be more and more a matter 
 of brains, foresight, and preparation, and success could be 
 reckoned upon. The new view made him thoughtful. 
 
 A little later Riding resumed the talk. 
 
 " I expect the governor will want to sell the brig and 
 put the money by," he began ; " but what a pity he 
 doesn't turn her into another privateer, equip her with 
 Gosport's eighteen-pounders, and let us go out again with 
 eighty men on board." 
 
 Jack took fire at the suggestion. " That's what we must 
 do," he said. ... "I think I can persuade my father." 
 
 When they came up on deck they found that the fair 
 wind had freshened ; the Dolphin's light still shone clear 
 on their quarter, and so they held on through the night. 
 
 The return home was as eventful to Jack as even the 
 fight and the lesson of Gosport's gunnery. Next morning 
 Riding and he had a talk with the French sailors and, at 
 their request, let half a dozen of them at a time up on 
 deck to help sail the brig. He soon found they were capital 
 fellows, not inferior in bodily strength or quickness to the 
 English, ^fld just as good sailors. When he remarked on 
 this Riding told him that the sailors from the north coast 
 of France were excellent, but the sailors from the Medi- 
 terranean and Marseilles, where there is usually fine weather, 
 
GREAT DAYS 69 
 
 were not so good. " Bad weather makes good seamen." 
 This brought a phrase of Gosport's about the Americans 
 into Jack's head. Talking of the American sailors one day 
 he surprised Jack by calling them the best seamen in the 
 world. 
 
 " Why do you say that ? " cried Jack. 
 
 " The coast of Maine," replied Gosport, " is the worst 
 in the world, dangerous in itself, and with an awful winter 
 climate ; none but good seamen, well fed, coul-d stand the 
 strain." 
 
 Again Jack was confronted with the fact that all handi- 
 caps and disadvantages in life call forth higher qualities in 
 men. 
 
 The result of the fight had put Gosport on a pinnacle. 
 Riding and the elder Morgan and Jack at any rate all 
 knew that the happy issue had been due solely to him, 
 and Jack in particular was inclined to take his opinion 
 before that of anyone else. Seizing the first opportunity 
 he asked him what he thought about fitting out the brig 
 as a privateer. To his delight Gosport welcomed the idea 
 enthusiastically. 
 
 " The brig's a fine sailer," he said, " though I have seen 
 faster ; but properly armed and equipped she'd be a tough 
 customer." 
 
 " You'd arm her with eighteen-pounders ? " cried Jack 
 hastily. 
 
 " No, no," said Gosport, " the object is to hit without 
 being hit in return. I'd put two thirty-two pounders on 
 her, and a sixty- eight pounder amidships like my popgun 
 there. The brig '11 stand it," Gosport went on, " she's 
 solidly built." 
 
70 GREAT DAYS 
 
 ^Jothing would suit Jack but that he should go on board 
 the Dolphin at once in order to explain it all, and to persuade 
 his father. Accordingly next morning they signalled to the 
 Dolphin and he was rowed on board. 
 
GREAT DAYS 71 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 JACK'S enthusiasm was quickly chilled by his father 
 As soon as he got on board he opened the subject, 
 but his father would not hear of it ; he was all for 
 selling the brig and investing the money. 
 
 " Fighting is too risky for me," he said ; " let the poor 
 fight, the rich should keep what they have." 
 
 " But if we made four thousand pounds with the Dolphin 
 we may make forty thousand with the brig." 
 
 " Yes," replied his father, " and you may lose the brig 
 too, and see the inside of a French prison to boot." 
 
 Jack pleaded " nothing venture, nothing have," but his 
 father insisted that this proverb should be turned round and 
 should read " Let those venture who have nothing." Jack 
 felt that the sharp grey eyes were inflexible. Resistance was 
 useless ; he dropped the subject for the time being. 
 
 The cutter's mast had been badly injured by the shot 
 from the brig, and as it came on to blow harder nearing the 
 English coast the spar had to be stayed, and even then 
 treated tenderly. The two vessels ran into Hurstpoint 
 just before noon on the following day. The brig rounded 
 the harbour point and dropped anchor amid cheering from 
 the villagers who had assembled on the quay. As the tri- 
 colour fluttered down to halfmast high, and the Union 
 
72 GREAT DAYS 
 
 Jack opened out above it, the crowd cheered again and again 
 lustily, and swarmed along the quay to greet them. 
 
 An accident happened on board the Dolphin which 
 threatened to end badly. As they ran up their Union Jack 
 the flag halyards caught in the mainsail rigging, and Morgan 
 sent Gibby up to the crosstrees to clear it. The moment 
 after Gibby went aloft Chips, who was sailing the vessel, 
 told the helmsman to put his helm down and brought the 
 cutter into the wind. At the same moment a heavier gust 
 came. The cutter's mainmast snapped clean off where it 
 had been injured, about three feet from the deck, and went 
 overboard, smashing in the bulwarks and bringing all the 
 sails down with a run. Everyone was occupied in thinking 
 of his own safety and in getting out of the way of the falling 
 tackle everyone except Morgan. To Jack's astonishment 
 his father suddenly plucked the lanyard and knife from one 
 of the sailors, jumped across the deck to leeward, and ran 
 along the mast in the water. Everyone stared at him, not 
 knowing what had happened. When he got near the cross- 
 trees he either threw himself or slipped on his face and began 
 cutting the sail away. The next moment Gibby's head 
 popped up through the opening with such a comic expression 
 of fear on it that Jack could hardly help laughing. His 
 father had already begun making his way back along the 
 spar to the vessel. As Jack ran to the lee bulwarks to help 
 him on board the crew burst into a cheer, for they saw that 
 it was the owner's presence of mind alone that had saved 
 Gibby's life : half a minute later and he would have been 
 suffocated under the sail, 
 
 By this time twenty fishermen had seen that the Dolphin 
 was disabled, and three or four boats were soon engaged in 
 
GREAT DAYS 73 
 
 towing the dismasted smack to her moorings. Jack and his 
 father, Gosport, Riding, and Chips were fairly carried by the 
 cheering crowd of fishermen and village folk to the inn. 
 
 At the inn they were met by Sir George Barren and a 
 crowd of gentry, who all insisted on shaking hands and con- 
 gratulating Morgan and Jack. Sir George took Jack over 
 to the carriage and presented him to Lady Barron and her 
 daughter. Jack had a vision of a large, placid woman, who 
 spoke kindly to him, and a round-faced girl of ten or twelve 
 years of age, with brown hair and sharp blue eyes. 
 
 The whole afternoon and evening passed in cheering and 
 carousing. The inn was thronged till midnight, but long 
 before that every sailor who would drink had been made 
 drunk. Captain Nugent and Lieutenant Myring, even 
 young Barron and young Crosby, were intent on treating 
 everything in the shape of a sailor who had been out on the 
 expedition, and the general joy and happiness were almost 
 as exciting as the strong drinks. Jack was very glad when 
 the bar was finally closed. 
 
 Next morning he found his father had ricked his back 
 when saving Gibby ; he had slipped on the mast near the 
 crosstrees and had wrenched himself rather badly. In his 
 quiet way he admitted to a good deal of pain. Jack was 
 alarmed to see that his face was drawn and pale. Every- 
 one recommended rest, and his wife finally carried him off 
 upstairs and forced him to lie down on the big sofa. There 
 Jack had a good many talks with him, but even when he got 
 down and about again he would not risk the brig in a new 
 adventure. He preferred to sell her, he said, even if he 
 bought a bigger cutter. 
 
 The whole summer was wasted in waiting for a purchaser 
 
74 GREAT DAYS 
 
 who never came. But as the summer wore away and Morgan 
 got a little stronger, he began to reconsider the matter. 
 He could not help seeing that the inaction was not good for 
 his son. He encouraged him, therefore, to take out the 
 Dolphin and go for another smuggling cruise. Jack took the 
 full complement of men, but it was impossible to get any 
 brandy from the merchants in Bordeaux, or even to get into 
 touch with them. In spite of the fact that the cutter was 
 well known on the coast she was fired upon by the forts at 
 the mouth of the river, and Jack discovered that the war 
 had cut off the best source of the trade. 
 
 It was still possible to do some business with Boulogne 
 and the little fishing villages in the neighbourhood like 
 Wimereux, but the brandy was not the brandy of Cognac, 
 and the wine a poor, thin product, which was well christened 
 "petit bleu" Besides, there were few French merchant 
 vessels to be found out of sight of safe harbour. They had 
 almost been chased from the sea by English cruisers, and 
 those that still dared the danger were usually under escort 
 and could not be attacked by the little cutter. 
 
 A couple of such cruises resulted in nothing but in develop- 
 ing Jack's seamanship and the sailorlike qualities of the crew. 
 The smacks were not even able to pay their way, and the 
 next summer the elder Morgan was confronted with the 
 choice of disbanding a large number of skilled seamen or of 
 giving Jack his way about the brig. At first he decided to 
 discharge the seamen and reduce expenditure, but the seamen 
 hung about the quays, and he could not but see that Jack 
 was at a loose end and up to no good. 
 
 One day Jack noticed a rather pretty girl in the inn 
 kitchen j she smiled at him and he spoke to her. He guessed 
 
GREAT DAYS 75 
 
 at once that she was one of his mother's many pensioners. 
 He ventured to ask her name, and was astonished to find she 
 was called Gretta Knight, the sister of the half-gipsy, sailor 
 Knight, but just as open, pretty, and talkative as he was hard 
 and secretive. Jack went with her to her home one day on 
 the edge of the downs, and found the whole family living in 
 the direst poverty. Knight spent all the money he made on 
 himself. The father had been dead some years, and the 
 mother was hard put to it to keep life in the four younger 
 children by washing and doing odd jobs. Her daughter 
 Gretta helped her, but the demand in the village for female 
 labour was unimportant, and the whole family would prob- 
 ably have starved if it had not been for the charity of the inn 
 and The Court. Lady Barron, Mrs. Knight told Jack, 
 often helped them, and so did his mother. He got into the 
 habit of giving his spare cash to Mrs. Knight and paying 
 frequent visits to the cottage. One day he accompanied 
 Gretta as she was going to the village and kissed her on the 
 way. She was nothing loth, but Jack was brought to himself 
 a little later by the noise of a carriage ; he caught a glimpse 
 of Lady Barron and Margaret Barron as they rolled by, the 
 child's sharp eyes fixed on him as she passed. 
 
 Of course Jack was seen walking with^ Gretta or kissing 
 her, and soon the news was all over the village. Knight, 
 the sailor, grinned and paid no attention to it, but Jack's 
 father took the matter more seriously. He saw that the 
 youth would have to be employed, and as no purchaser pre- 
 sented himself for the brig, he began to consider the alter- 
 native which Jack had put forward. Though he did not 
 admit it even to himself, his reluctance to fit out the brig 
 came from the fact that he would be unable to take com 
 
76 GREAT DAYS 
 
 mand of her. He hated risking a large sum of money without 
 exercising any control over the venture. He felt in some dim 
 way that his prudence and his knowledge of men were impor- 
 tant factors in his continual success. But during the next 
 winter he discussed the matter more than once with Jack, 
 and finally, in the spring, called him into the inn parlour 
 one day and began laying down the law to him. 
 
 " If I fit out the brig for you," he said (Jack got warm at 
 the thought), " you must promise me two or three things. 
 Chips will have to be the sailing captain, the master, as they 
 call it in a man-o'-war, and Gosport '11 have to be fighting 
 captain ; but Gosport's too eager to fight, and I want you to 
 promise me never to go into any fight without getting 
 Riding's consent." 
 
 Of course Jack promised ; he would have promised any- 
 thing, and kept his promise, too, in order to get on board 
 the brig and have a real chance. 
 
 The next day his father had Riding and Gosport and Chips 
 into the parlour for a long confab with the youth, and 
 everything was soon decided. The brig was to be refitted. 
 Chips said that a few changes would make her much faster, 
 particularly before the wind or running free. Gosport was 
 to have his way about the arming of her. He was sent off 
 to Portsmouth to get the best cannon he could. Every 
 spare moment of Jack's was spent on board ; the brig was 
 shored up, her bottom cleaned and the keel considerably 
 deepened and leaded ; she was then taken out and tested in 
 all sorts of winds by Chips till he was fairly satisfied with 
 her performances. 
 
 " She will never be a flyer," was his final opinion, " too 
 heavy in the run for that ; but she's faster now than nine 
 
GREAT DAYS 77 
 
 vessels out of ten, and we must be content though we 
 should all be safer, I think, on board the Dolphin." 
 
 As soon as the brig was ready for sea, Morgan himself 
 came down, in spite of a little lameness, which he began to 
 think he would never lose, and superintended the engaging 
 of the new men. In all he signed on fifty sailors, but these 
 were nearly all fishermen from the port and well known to 
 him, and the new hands soon shook down with the rest of 
 the crew. 
 
 Nothing did them so much good as some preliminary 
 cruises with Gosport while Morgan was up in London get- 
 ting permission to use the brig as a privateer. In all these 
 outings the crew were exercised for hours a day in handling 
 the guns, and especially the big sixty-eight pounder fitted 
 in the centre of the ship. Every day, too, the sailors were 
 encouraged to play " follow-my-leader," and exercised in 
 setting sail, in taking in sail, the men of the mainmast in 
 competition with those of the foremast. A few weeks of 
 this constant play-discipline turned the ship's crew into as 
 Smart a body of men as one could wish to see. 
 
 The officers' quarters in the brig were all aft, and there 
 was ample accommodation not only for Gosport and Jack, 
 but for Riding and Chips as well. 
 
 Newton had been placed in command of the Dolphin with 
 twenty men under him, and with positive instructions not 
 to part company with the Warrior, as the brig had been 
 renamed. 
 
 The first cruise was wholly unproductive ; they slipped 
 along the French coast, right across the bay, and back again 
 without finding anything. They discovered, incidentally, 
 that Newton was a first-rate captain, and that the Dolphin 
 
78 GREAT DAYS 
 
 could outsail the brig on or against a wind ; but every 
 French vessel they saw, and they only saw three or four, 
 managed to scuttle into some neighbouring port before they 
 could get on terms with her. 
 
 Finally Jack was compelled by the need of revictualling 
 the ship to return to Hurstpoint, and he did so in a spirit of 
 utter disappointment and dejection. To his astonishment 
 his father was well content. 
 
 " Pm quite satisfied," he said ; " half the big mistakes 
 in the world are made through over-eagerness. Don't be in a 
 hurry, you'll come across something good yet. If good luck 
 never lasts, bad luck never continues either." 
 
 One evening Riding came to the inn and wanted to see 
 Jack. 
 
 " I have just been reading in a French book," he said, 
 " that most of the French East Indiamen come home about 
 September or, at any rate, before the monsoon. Why 
 shouldn't we go out at once and get south into their track ? 
 They're seldom heavily armed." 
 
 The suggestion seemed to Jack excellent. He called in his 
 father, and his father, after a talk with Chips, approved of the 
 proposal. 
 
 In another three days the brig and the sloop were made 
 ready and started out on the second cruise. They ran almost 
 due south for ten days and then began cruising about. For 
 a week or so they saw nothing, but one day at dawn the look- 
 out at the masthead announced a fleet coming up with the 
 south-west trade. On the Warrior they soon made out a 
 number of Indiamen under convoy of four French men-o'- 
 war and six frigates. They hoisted French colours and stood 
 away, but were pursued by one of the frigates. As luck 
 
GREAT DAYS 79 
 
 would have it they lost the frigate in the night, and after 
 tacking to windward for two or three hours to make assur- 
 ance doubly sure they hove to till morning. 
 
 Before dawn Jack was awakened and hurried up on deck 
 to make out a full-rigged ship hull down on the horizon. 
 No one knew what the ship was, but before the day had 
 broken completely Chips and Riding had come to the con- 
 clusion that it was one of the East Indiamen, which for 
 some reason or other had been left behind by the main 
 fleet, and was making her way unprotected to the nearest 
 French port. Chips advised immediate attack and Riding 
 too ; but, strange to say, Gosport was against them. 
 
 " These heavy guns," he said, " are heard a long way off, 
 and we might have a frigate down on us just when we had 
 got the Indiaman. Let us stop her first and see if we can't 
 separate her a little from her protectors." 
 
 So they contented themselves with heading the India- 
 man off and throwing a shot across her bow. She imme- 
 diately went about and the brig followed, careful not to 
 overtake her. 
 
 Early in the afternoon Gosport admitted that the distance 
 between the fleet and the Indiaman was great enough, and 
 they immediately crowded on all sail to overhaul the prey. 
 At four o'clock in the afternoon they beat to quarters and 
 got everything ready for the fight. The big ship was about 
 half a mile away to leeward when Gosport and Eldridge fired 
 the big sixty-eight pounder at her. She replied with broad- 
 side guns, which seemed to be twelve- and eighteen-pound 
 carronades and did no damage. The brig's guns were all 
 directed at the Indiaman's rigging and masts, and in a short 
 time the jaw of the spanker boom was shot away, which 
 
8o GREAT DAYS 
 
 brought the sail and spars in heaped confusion to the deck. 
 The big ship was now practically at the mercy of the brig, 
 as a whale would be at the mercy of a sword-fish. Again and 
 again the big gun and the thirty-two pounders, too, raked 
 her decks. In half an hour she struck her flag, and Jack and 
 Riding went on board to take possession. They found their 
 first supposition correct : she was from Pondicherry, carried 
 a hundred men, with an equipment of six eighteen-pound 
 carronades and six twelve-pounders, and thought herself 
 almost above capture by anything smaller than a frigate. 
 Over-confidence had brought them to grief, though they had 
 lost only half a dozen men. 
 
 As usual Jack divided the crew ; he took Riding and 
 Chips with him on board the Indiaman and about thirty 
 men, and sent half the Indiaman's crew on board the brig 
 as prisoners. After repairing the damage the three vessels 
 set sail in company northward. 
 
 Jack and Riding had not gone through the cargo, but they 
 soon discovered enough to be sure that their prize was a very 
 rich one, and they resolved to keep well out of the way of 
 vessels, far to the west of the track, indeed, in the open 
 ocean, in order to avoid any chance of recapture. In a 
 fortnight Jack brought his prize into Hurstpoint harbour 
 almost without difficulty. He anticipated a great reception, 
 and he got it. But he soon realised that his success had been 
 too great and too rapid for his friends' affection ; in reality, 
 he was the object rather of envy than of admiration. True, 
 everyone met him with mouth-praise and congratulations, 
 but Jack saw plainly enough that it was for the most part 
 lip service, and that not only his acquaintances but the 
 gentry of the neighbourhood envied him his good luck. For 
 
GREAT DAYS 81 
 
 a day or two he was too excited to pay much attention to what 
 others thought or felt. It was his sister who first convinced 
 him that his good fortune had cost him the good-will of his 
 fellows. He met her one day walking with young Barren, 
 and taking his own experience with Gretta Knight as a 
 guide he thought he ought to warn her. 
 
 " Young Barron was always flighty at school," he said, 
 " and underneath his pleasant manners he's mad with 
 family pride." 
 
 His sister looked at him. " It's true, then," she said 
 quietly. 
 
 " What's true ? " asked Jack. " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " What everyone's saying," she retorted, " that your 
 head's turned with conceit. You think because Gosport 
 took the French ship that you're a great person : but you 
 had no more to do with it than I had, and that's not much." 
 
 Jack was flabbergasted by the attack. Instead of saying 
 to himself that his sister was angry because his warning 
 confirmed her own secret and painful doubts, and kissing her 
 into good humour, he just felt puzzled ; but his good sense 
 helped him a little. 
 
 " I only told you what I think, for your own good," he 
 remarked. " A man knows things about another man that a 
 girl doesn't know." 
 
 " It's a pity Gretta Knight didn't teach you to mind your 
 own business," she replied angrily. 
 
 Jack shrugged his shoulders and went his way, but on 
 reflection he realised that his sister's opinion, unpleasant 
 as it was, was probably the opinion of the neighbourhood. 
 
 They found the Indiaman was filled to the hatches with 
 rich Indian goods, and Jack's father determined to go to 
 
82 GREAT DAYS 
 
 London by coach to find out how best to sell them. Mean- 
 while Jack and Riding were to bring the big ship quietly up 
 the Thames. 
 
 It was Jack's first visit to London. But he was not over- 
 whelmed or dazzled by the novel sights and sounds of the 
 great city. His only standard of measure was Bordeaux, 
 but Bordeaux, when he knew it, was boiling, so to speak, 
 and though London was twenty times as big, it was far 
 quieter, far more commonplace than Bordeaux ; dirtier, 
 too, and more sordid. True there was energy of a physical 
 sort on the quay-side hard work and long hours, a rude 
 zest of living, too, in roaring gin shops and public houses, 
 such as he had never seen in France ; but that side of life 
 rather repelled him. The seamen all hung about the docks 
 and low drinking dens ; Riding even never wandered far 
 from the river, but Jack was filled with insatiable curiosity, 
 and was eager to see all there was to be seen and draw his 
 own conclusions without interruption. He made excursions 
 by himself, and the river scenes soon failed to satisfy him. 
 
 The city itself, and the business part, seemed dull and 
 grimy, but the west-end drew him again and again. The 
 pride and comfort of the aristocratic quarters, the life of 
 luxury and fashion, the show and elegance of it all appealed to 
 him now as irresistibly as young Barren's courtesies and high 
 manner had appealed to him years before. 
 
 He was curious of dress and custom. The very rich people 
 about the Court, he noticed, had all discarded the volumin- 
 ous garments which still obtained in the country. The 
 exquisites in St. James's set him staring : the men no 
 longer wore powder in their hair ; they were dressed in 
 tights with little bows above the ankles. Their huge 
 
GREAT DAYS 83 
 
 cravats and zebra vests, made all of a piece and fitting like 
 an eel-skin, impressed him in spite of himself. Their 
 canes, too, and broad-brimmed hats, and, above all, their 
 assured carriage, made him ashamed of his rough seaman's 
 clothes. 
 
 The fashionable women turned his envy to admiration ; 
 they were even more curiously attired than the men. They 
 wore turbans of muslin wrapped round the head, with two or 
 three enormous feathers, which seemed to add to their 
 height and slimness. That the headdress was often built 
 up with straw did not lessen the effect in Jack's eyes. Their 
 breasts were bare and were allowed to protrude naked from 
 the robe, which was usually very loose and very light, with 
 only thin petticoats underneath ; one could see their legs 
 quite plainly. Many beauties even moistened their dresses 
 in order to make them cling and show off their forms. The 
 boldness of the fashion, the appeal of it, set Jack's senses 
 rioting. The best class, he saw, was far more natural, more 
 frankly sensual, than the middle-class. In young and pretty 
 women and girls the fashion seemed admirable to him ; when 
 the wearers were old and ugly he thought it hideous. 
 
 He was hugely amused by a verse he saw in a shop window 
 under the caricature of a lady who had lost her waist through 
 refusing to eat : 
 
 Folly and fashion do prevail 
 
 To such extremes among the fair, 
 A woman's only top and tail, 
 
 The body's banish'd : God knows where ! 
 
 But none of the fashionable ladies or gentlemen ever cast 
 more than a contemptuous glance at the rough sailor, and, 
 a little piqued perhaps by their indifference, Jack remarked 
 
84 GREAT DAYS 
 
 that the best of them were less polite in London than in 
 Bordeaux ; even in St. James's the gentlemen took the wall 
 of the ladies continually, which was never seen on the other 
 side of the Channel. On the whole, Jack's English pride 
 was rather starved than strengthened by his first visit to 
 London, though the wealth shown in fine carriages and 
 shops, and the beautiful women in the parks, impressed him 
 in spite of himself. 
 
 It was near Charing Cross that he saw in a bookseller's 
 window the first mention of a name which was afterwards 
 to become familiar to him and to the world the name of 
 Bonaparte. Under a picture of a guillotine " the con- 
 queror of Italy " was represented in the guise of Pompey, 
 setting out to destroy the nest of English pirates. The 
 print made the youth flush with anger. 
 
 A couple of days later his father explained that he had sold 
 the cargo of the ship for thirty thousand pounds, and that he 
 thought he could get twenty more for the ship itself. 
 
 " But you'll fit her out as a privateer, won't you ? " cried 
 Jack. 
 
 His father stared at him, and then laughed shortly. 
 
 " I'm not quite mad, if you are ; we've had rare good luck, 
 and not to be content with it would show we were fools. 
 We've made as much in three years of war as I have made 
 in thirty years of work, and I won't risk it for anybody. 
 What I wanted to tell you was this : I propose to divide 
 the money equally between us and put your share aside for 
 you. You will be twenty-one next year and I think you 
 deserve it, and it will steady you to have it. But I want 
 you to promise me you will only spend the interest of 
 
GREAT DAYS 85 
 
 " Aren't you going to give anything to Gosport, Riding, 
 and the rest ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " Why should we ? " asked his father. " We didn't 
 promise them anything. Besides, I want to put away the 
 round sum of twenty-five thousand pounds for each of us. 
 With that you'll be the equal of anyone in the village. You 
 may have another successful cruise in the brig ; but in any 
 case twenty-five thousand pounds sets you above want and 
 care, makes a gentleman of you, and that's good enough for 
 a youth of twenty-one. I intend to invest the money in the 
 Funds ; at the present price I'm told it'll bring in just seven 
 per cent., and with five pounds a day coming in you can 
 ruffle it with the best. You know French, too, and I don't 
 see why you shouldn't marry some lady, and be as good as 
 the Barrons or anyone else." 
 
 " The Barrons ? " cried Jack, in utter astonishment. 
 
 " Yes, the Barrons," said his father, looking at him out of 
 cunning grey eyes. " I have lent a good bit of money in 
 mortgage on The Court, and may lend more. You do as I 
 tell you and we'll see strange things yet." 
 
 A few days afterwards his father came down rubbing his 
 hands. He had sold the ship for twenty-six thousand 
 pounds, without including the plate. Again Jack pressed 
 him to give the six thousand, at any rate, which he had not 
 expected, to the officers and crew ; but his father shook 
 him off roughly, said he was silly. At length Jack retorted : 
 
 " Let me give my share of it." 
 
 Ultimately his father consented to give five hundred 
 pounds each to Riding, Gosport, and Chips, and twenty- 
 five pounds apiece to the crew. The men cheered at the 
 news, and the officers appeared to be very grateful. But 
 
86 GREAT DAYS 
 
 Jack had no difficulty in seeing that Riding was the only 
 person who really appreciated the liberality. 
 
 " The suggestion didn't come from the old man," he said 
 to Jack, " but from you, eh ? The richer a man gets the 
 meaner he gets, as a rule, and your father, with all his good 
 qualities, has never liked parting. Those who have a hard 
 time in youth seldom do," he went on. " Before your 
 father married the Irishman's daughter and got the Robin 
 Hood he had had a very hard time for many a year, and it 
 has left its mark on him." 
 
 And then, afraid of hurting the youth, he added : " Most 
 rich men are like Admiral Jervis ; I saw a caricature of him 
 the other day called ' The Lion's Share.' There was all the 
 prize money on the table, and Jervis was saying : * The 
 first share's mine because I caught the prey, the second falls 
 to me because I'm the King of Beasts, and if anyone presumes 
 to touch the third ! ! ' " and he roared with amusement. 
 
 " Was it mother who owned the inn ? " cried Jack. 
 " Was that the way father got his start ? " 
 
 " I thought you knew," said Riding, " or I wouldn't 
 have said anything." 
 
 " Tell me more," insisted Jack, extremely curious to get 
 this glimpse of his father as seen through another's eyes. 
 
 " He was a sailor," said Riding, " who had come round 
 to Hurstpoint in a coaster from Wales, from Haverford West, 
 I believe. He and the inn-keeper's daughter fell in love 
 with each other, I was told, and that's how he got the Robin 
 Hood. But it wasn't the place then it is now," he went on. 
 " Give him his due ; he's done a great deal for it, and instead 
 of taking it easy as he got richer, he worked harder. The 
 old man's very clever. I wish you'd tell me how he's going 
 
GREAT DAYS 87 
 
 to invest his money, because Fd like to invest mine in the 
 same way." 
 
 " He's putting all his and mine in the Funds," said Jack, 
 " and I'm going to-morrow or the next day to the Bank of 
 England," he added a little vaingloriously, " to inscribe my 
 name. Father says that at the present price it'll bring in 
 more than seven per cent." 
 
 " Ho ! Ho ! " Riding laughed, " that's better than I 
 thought. I'll tell Chips and Gosport, too, and we'll all do 
 the same thing. Thirty-five pounds a year for life is four- 
 teen shillings a week, and that's double what the farm 
 labourers have to live on, and double what the ordinary 
 sailor gets. A man who can't live comfortably on fourteen 
 shillings a week's a fool." 
 
 To his astonishment Jack saw that what they regarded as 
 an assured competence altered their manners and had some 
 effect on the very nature of Gosport and Chips, and even 
 on Riding himself. It gave them a certain confidence that 
 Jack had not known in them before, and he began to realise 
 for the first time that if five hundred pounds could so trans- 
 form a man like Riding, twenty-five thousand pounds must 
 have an infinitely greater effect on his own position. But he 
 had no means yet of gauging its influence, and, youth-like, 
 he put it out of his head for the time. 
 
 When they got back to Hurstpoint again they did nothing 
 much for the rest of the year, and heard little or nothing 
 except wild stories of how England was to be invaded by 
 French soldiers on gigantic rafts. As sailors they paid little 
 attention to such silly vapourings ; they knew quite well 
 that a revenue-cutter could deal with a good many such 
 rafts, and they did not believe that their adversaries were 
 
88 GREAT DAYS 
 
 quite insane. But the threats of invasion were cunningly- 
 used by the Government to increase the war-like spirit of 
 the people and to win acceptance for Pitt's new taxes. The 
 English governing classes have always been in favour of 
 increasing the army and navy, and thus providing their 
 poorer members with profitable posts. Nowhere is patriot- 
 ism made to pay so well. 
 
 In the next summer Jack made several trips and met with 
 several minor successes. In bad weather he captured two 
 coasters off Brest which more than paid the expenses of the 
 year. Encouraged by these successes he resolved on the 
 last cruise of the year, in September, to make a real effort. 
 He jogged down the French coast from Dunkirk almost to 
 St. Malo without seeing anything, and then he was chased by 
 an English seventy-four. Jack had no wish to be held up by 
 such a ship. He knew that he would not only have a very 
 unpleasant hour's cross-questioning but that probably 
 thirty or forty of his men would be " pressed " to serve the 
 king, and all he could do would be to complain. 
 
 The English ship had come from windward, bringing 
 with her a strong westerly breeze, and Jack saw at once that 
 the two vessels would have to separate in order to stand a 
 chance of escape. Unluckily for him, as it turned out, 
 Chips had gone on board the little Dolphin to explain to 
 Newton a series of night signals which had been agreed on. 
 
 The Warrior now signalled the cutter to escape as best 
 she could and get back home, and as the cutter bore up one 
 way the brig started off on the other tack and attempted 
 to get to windward of the big ship. But as luck would have 
 it the cutter took the easier way, and the British battleship 
 was enabled by her superior position to edge away and so 
 
GREAT DAYS 
 
 almost make up for the superior sailing qualities of [the 
 brig. 
 
 The chase went on the whole morning, and it was not till 
 late on a windy afternoon that Jack was able to weather his 
 stubborn countryman. Gosport had been anxious all the 
 afternoon to have a shot at her with the sixty-eight pounder, 
 declaring that it would be quite easy to bring some of her 
 spars down and give her a lesson. Neither Jack nor Riding 
 would hear of this ; they were quite content to shake off 
 their pursuer. The worst of it was that when the man-o 5 - 
 war left off chasing them and took her way to the nor'ard 
 she had driven the brig far down the coast to the very centre 
 of the French naval power. To get out of danger Jack had 
 to beat to windward in the teeth of a strong breeze, and that 
 took some time and involved a good deal of hard, unpleasant 
 work. Still Jack did what he thought wise, and the whole 
 night was spent in beating to windward in order to gain a 
 decent offing. 
 
 Day dawned on a wild scene, with scurrying grey clouds 
 chasing each other to the east. The sea was running high, 
 and the wind blew with such force that it cut off the crests 
 of the waves and the spindrift drenched everyone. The 
 brig was under light canvas, the plain sails even being reefed. 
 Suddenly the lookout hailed the deck with the news that a 
 three-master could be seen right in the wind's eye. " All 
 hands and idlers " were immediately ordered on deck, and 
 the little brig proceeded to set more canvas. 
 
 In an hour they made out that the new-comer was a French 
 frigate and one of the fastest of her class, for in an hour more 
 they could see part of her line of ports. There was nothing 
 for it but to run without appearing to run, and so Jack kept 
 
90 GREAT DAYS 
 
 the brig away and let her go free. But the Frenchman 
 had caught sight of them and wanted a closer acquaintance, 
 so he altered his course too, and shook out his royals, and, as 
 the devil would have it, at the critical moment the wind 
 veered a couple of points and gave a further advantage in the 
 game to the big ship that now ran up the tricolour and sig- 
 nalled to the Warrior to heave to. Nothing was further 
 from Jack's mind. He crowded on every rag of canvas the 
 brig would stand and did his best to get away. But the 
 wind freshened continually, and running free with nearly a 
 gale of wind under her stern the brig was not as fast as the 
 larger vessel. The whole day, too, was before them, and 
 Jack knew that the French coast could not be more than 
 thirty-five or forty miles away. That English man-o'-war 
 had put them in a trap. 
 
 Things began to look awkward, and Riding could only 
 suggest more sail. Gosport insisted that they should let 
 him use the big gun as soon as he had a chance, and as the 
 French man-o'-war was steadily coming closer Jack con- 
 sented. Up to this time he had hoped that the frigate might 
 think them too insignificant to be pursued obstinately. 
 
 The contest now became interesting. The first shot with 
 the sixty-eight fell a little short, but it evidently provoked 
 the Frenchman, for he put his helm down and as his ship 
 yawed he let fly his whole broadside. None of his guns, 
 however, carried as far as Jack's, and the shots all fell harm- 
 lessly into the sea, while the manoeuvre nearly doubled the 
 distance between the ships. 
 
 Towards four o'clock in the afternoon, however, the 
 Frenchman had crawled up to them again, and again and 
 again Gosport fired the sixty-eight, but for some time with- 
 
GREAT DAYS 91 
 
 out result. When the French ship had got within a third 
 of a mile, however, one of Gosport's shots did a good deal 
 of damage, for it shot away the fore-topmast of the pursuer, 
 brought down the sails in a wreck, and diminished the 
 Frenchman's speed. In anger, as it appeared, he again 
 put his helm down and let fly a whole broadside. As bad 
 luck would have it one of the shots killed two or three of the 
 Warrior's men, and another struck the topgallant mast and 
 brought the spar down on the deck with a run. Before an 
 order could be given, the men had sprung aloft to cut away 
 the wreck, but by the time they got it all clear and the brig 
 moving properly she had hardly regained her former distance 
 from the French ship. Jack began to long for darkness, 
 but unluckily there were still two or three hours of daylight. 
 Once again the French ship, favoured by the weather-gage, 
 began to draw up foot by foot, and when only a quarter of a 
 mile away she put her helm down and gave them another 
 broadside aimed wholly at the rigging. 
 
 Luckily for them the shots did no particular damage, 
 and as the Frenchman lost nearly half a mile by the manoeuvre 
 Jack began to hope that the worst was past, when suddenly 
 the watch on the fo'castle sang out that there was a sail on 
 the lee-bow. The glasses showed that it was a French 
 man-o'-war, probably called out of Cherbourg by the firing, 
 for almost as soon as she was sighted their big pursuer fired 
 a gun to attract her attention and then began to signal to 
 her. Jack immediately called Gosport and Riding to council. 
 
 " What are we to do ? " he asked. 
 
 Neither of them could make any suggestion. 
 
 The land now was plainly visible a few miles to leeward. 
 The uncomfortable fear that they might be captured 
 
92 GREAT DAYS 
 
 presented itself to Jack, but he could not realise it ; he would 
 go on struggling to the end, he resolved. Of a sudden he 
 saw that there was no possibility of escape by holding on, 
 but just a bare chance if he went about and tacked to wind- 
 ward, daring meanwhile the worst that the French frigate 
 could do. 
 
 Hurriedly he put his plan before Gosport and Riding. 
 
 " She'll sink us," cried Riding. 
 
 " We'll be lucky if she doesn't kill half of us," said Gosport. 
 
 " There is nothing else to be done," cried Jack. " Pro- 
 pose anything ; I'm ready to try whatever you like, but in 
 another half -hour we'll be ashore. We're lost already if 
 we go on ; this gives us a bare chance." Seeing that they 
 hesitated, he cried : " Ready about, put the helm down," 
 and in a moment the brig lurched up into the wind. The 
 daring brought its own reward. Not understanding what 
 the brig was up to, and his guns being charged, the French 
 captain gave orders to fire. The brig being head on offered 
 a smaller mark, and only a couple of the shots did any damage 
 at all. Close hauled with the sails as flat as a board the brig 
 drove towards the enemy ; it looked as if the manoeuvre were 
 about to succeed, for once past the frigate it was odds that 
 the brig was a better sailor close hauled than the larger 
 vessel. Just as they came opposite the frigate Gosport seized 
 the opportunity of firing every gun he could into her. The 
 French captain, completely astonished at what had happened, 
 did the worst thing he could do ; he was preparing to go 
 about and still follow the brig while keeping the weather- 
 gage, but the attack was so sudden and the damage done so 
 great for the sixty-eight pounder killed half a dozen men 
 and swept the deck that he let the frigate fall off again and 
 
GREAT DAYS 93 
 
 gave the brig as she passed his whole broadside. But luck 
 happened to be with him ; one of his shots brought down a 
 block which caught Jack on the head and shoulders and re- 
 lieved him for the time being of any anxiety as to the future. 
 Worse still, a couple of the shots caught the brig's foremast 
 and carried it away, while three or four more plunged right 
 through her. But her flag was still defiantly flying at the 
 masthead, and so the Frenchman loaded as quickly as pos- 
 sible and when within a hundred yards gave her another 
 broadside. Then too late the Warrior's men thought of the 
 flag, but before they could pull it down it was plain that the 
 little brig was sinking. The French captain saw that, too, 
 and sent his boats to take the crew off. They had difficulty 
 enough in saving the men, for it was already dark and the 
 brig with her deck awash looked as if she might founder at 
 any moment. They brought most of the crew away, 
 however, and showed a good deal of kindness to Jack, who 
 was carried on board the French frigate insensible by Val 
 Joyce and Weetman. 
 
 A little later only the masts of the brig stuck out above the 
 water ; a few minutes later still and they had disappeared. 
 
94 GREAT DAYS 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 IT was many weeks before Jack heard what happened 
 after his fall ; the heavy block had fractured his 
 skull, and the subsequent moving and inadequate 
 attendance bringing on a sort of brain fever, he lay for weeks 
 in almost complete unconsciousness. 
 
 When the " Warriors " found themselves penned together 
 in the forehold of the Liberte, as the frigate was called, they 
 could only count forty-five men saved of eight-one, and 
 of the officers Riding was missing. But sailors bear mishaps 
 like gamblers who live by the freaks of fortune, and as they 
 were given blankets and food and the wounded attended 
 to by the doctor they soon consoled themselves with the 
 reflection that they might have been worse off. They knew 
 that the frigate anchored in the early morning in calm water, 
 and by that sort of second sense which sailors possess they 
 felt pretty sure that they had run into Cherbourg through 
 the Eastern Channel, and were now ensconced under the 
 lee of the breakwater. They were brought up on deck next 
 day for exercise and fresh air, and Gosport, who knew the 
 place, told them that the island to the west was called lie 
 Pelee, and pointed out the forts not only on the islands in 
 the harbour but on the heights surrounding the town. As 
 soon as the French officers found out that he knew a little 
 French they began asking him questions, and in the hope 
 
GREAT DAYS 95 
 
 of being kept less strictly he declared that Jack was the 
 captain and owner's son and gave himself out as merely the 
 sailing master. He told the Frenchmen, too, that their 
 cruise had been fruitless, and ascribed their unfortunate 
 position to the pursuit of the English battleship. At first 
 he could not make them understand why an English priva- 
 teer should avoid an English man-o'-war ; and when he 
 explained to them roughly the system of pressgangs they 
 broke into exclamations of astonishment, and went away 
 evidently impressed with the idea that only savages or mad- 
 men would try to make men fight against their will. They 
 asked Gosport whether he would have fought if he had been 
 pressed in that way, and he confounded them with the reply 
 that he supposed he would ; it was " all in the day's work." 
 None of them seemed able to credit the fact that pressed 
 men will fight as bravely as those who go into battle of their 
 own free will and animated by patriotic ardour. 
 
 In forty-eight hours all the formalities were fulfilled and 
 Gosport and Jack and their companions were taken on shore 
 and lodged in the prison. Jack from the beginning was 
 treated better than the rest ; he was received into the 
 governor's own house and his wound was dressed at once by 
 the prison doctor. 
 
 When he first came to himself he felt astonishingly 
 languid, but clear-headed and very curious. The first 
 glance showed him he was in prison ; there were bars on 
 the small square window set high up in the wall, a window 
 which framed a patch of blue sky the colour of a pigeon's 
 egg but bright as if newly washed. The walls were a gravy- 
 brown ; the door opposite his feet was evidently a prison 
 door, he thought, it looked so dark and massive ; there was 
 
96 GREAT DAYS 
 
 a stool in the cell, a little table at the head of his bed, and 
 a washstand in the corner with a mere bowl on it which 
 Jack could not believe was meant for a basin. But the bed 
 was comfortable, the linen, though coarse, spotlessly clean ; 
 he stretched his toes out against its coolness with pleasure. 
 He was puzzled by what seemed to him the great weight of 
 the bed-clothes ; it was a real effort to cross his feet, and 
 yet he was not too warm ; it was surprising. When he 
 tried to turn to look at the wall behind him he found the 
 explanation of the mystery ; it took a prodigious effort even 
 to try to turn, an effort that left him breathless. He must 
 be very weak, he decided. Suddenly he caught a glimpse 
 of his left hand ; he was astounded it was so thin and pale 
 and he felt it an effort to hold it up. He was relieved to 
 lay it out flat on the bed so as to rest all of it down to the 
 very finger-tips. 
 
 What had made him so weak ? he mused to himself, and 
 musing slept. . . . 
 
 When he came to himself two men were in the cell, one 
 arranging some soup for him on a little table, the other 
 with a lantern in his hand directing. The man with the 
 lantern was in officer's uniform. He said : 
 
 " Lift him up and feed him." 
 
 The odour of the cabbage soup had already spread through 
 the room and brought the water to Jack's mouth ; he felt 
 very hungry. When he was lifted up and given the first 
 mouthful he said : " Merci, monsieur," with a smile. 
 
 " Oh, you speak French," cried the officer to him. 
 " That's good. Now you've come to yourself you'll soon 
 get well." 
 
 Jack was astonished by his harsh, peculiar accent and quick, 
 
GREAT DAYS 97 
 
 abrupt ways. He noticed that the officer was a small man, 
 slight and very dark, with a skin like mahogany, a small 
 black- moustache, black eyes, and long, thin, pointed nose 
 a nose longer even than his father's and more prominent, 
 self-assertive. But the face was very intelligent and vivacious 
 with a sort of instinct of rough kindness in it ; and Jack felt 
 kindly, too, for the good soup seemed to course all through 
 his body, and warmed him as if he had been hollow all down 
 his legs. 
 
 " I have been ill some time, haven't I, monsieur ? " he 
 asked at length. 
 
 " You have been here over a fortnight ; but now Dr. 
 Sauvan says you have turned the corner not that I think 
 much of what he says, a republican and revolutionary at this 
 time of day ! But by the way you suck up that soup I 
 think you'll be about soon. Take a drink of the wine too ; 
 it has no body in it these Northern wines are all thin, it 
 takes sunshine to make good hot juices in plant or in man 
 but still it'll do you good." 
 
 Jack, too, thought it did him good, though he would have 
 preferred more of the soup. The little officer divined his 
 desire and asked him if he would like some more soup, and 
 when he said " Yes " sent for it at once. 
 
 " You've had a bad bash on the head," he continued, 
 " but it's healed now and the doctor says you mustn't have 
 any meat, but I'll try you with a little to-morrow. I Jmow 
 how quickly one recovers from wounds ; I have had seven- 
 teen myself." 
 
 " Seventeen ? " cried Jack, staring at him. 
 
 " In three campaigns," he added. " But I must not talk 
 so much ; that wiseacre of a doctor '11 say I tired you. 
 
 H 
 
98 GREAT DAYS 
 
 Now drink your soup," he went on as it came in, " then 
 have a sleep, and to-morrow we'll put something to chew 
 between your grinders." 
 
 A few minutes afterwards, with " Bon soir, monsieur," 
 and " Bon soir, monsieur," in reply, Jack was left to sleep. 
 At first Jack could not help thinking of his jailer's courtesy 
 and kindness ; fancy saying " Bon soir, monsieur " to a 
 prisoner and giving him a second helping of soup and pressing 
 the wine upon him ! Jack promised himself to find out more 
 about his extraordinary jailer next day, and particularly 
 about his three campaigns and seventeen wounds. Seven- 
 teen ! . . . and so wondering he fell asleep. 
 
 The governor's kindness was not wholly disinterested. 
 Privateers' men were regarded as little better than pirates, 
 and were apt to be roughly handled, but Gosport knew that 
 they would all be better treated if some money passed, 
 and therefore he gave Jack out for a person of great wealth 
 and importance. He assured the governor that whatever 
 was spent on him would be largely repaid, and he had already 
 written to Jack's father in England telling him of Jack's 
 wound and need of nursing, and praying for a large remit- 
 tance. The post between the two countries was more than 
 primitive, but this letter reached Hurstpoint safely and 
 Jack's father used his smuggling correspondent in Boulogne 
 to transmit a couple of hundred pounds to Jack at Cher- 
 bourg. It is true the money had not yet arrived when Jack 
 awoke to consciousness, but Gosport's assurances were so 
 confident that the governor's native kindness was sustained 
 by the hope of profit. 
 
 The impressions of Jack's first conscious talk with the 
 governor were only strengthened and deepened in the days 
 
GREAT DAYS 99 
 
 to come. He soon found out that the little man's name was 
 Caressa Achille Caressa and he could not help smiling 
 when he first heard it, for he had always thought of Achilles 
 as a great fighter and giant, whereas Achille Caressa looked 
 to him at first anything but formidable. But when he got 
 him talking about his campaigns he soon began to feel a 
 certain respect for him which gradually deepened into a half- 
 reluctant admiration. He found that Caressa was a native 
 of Nice and had served in the French army from his twenty- 
 third year ; he might now be about forty. 
 
 One afternoon when sitting in the funny little room 
 downstairs Jack learned with amazement that Caressa had 
 fought his way from the ranks to Colonel of Chasseurs in 
 three years, that his thigh bone had been broken by a shot 
 at Arcola, and that the post of governor of the prison had been 
 given him by Bonaparte as a reward of valour and compensa- 
 tion for his lameness. Jack was astounded to find that 
 Colonel Caressa was an idolater of Bonaparte ; the Corsican 
 was his deity, his only religion indeed, and he held the faith 
 fanatically. At the mere mention of Bonaparte's name his 
 voice used to change. 
 
 He was already lieutenant when Bonaparte at twenty- 
 five was sent as brigadier-general to the army of Italy to 
 command the artillery. 
 
 " None of us knew much about him," Caressa told Jack 
 one day, " except that he had done big things at Toulon ; 
 but for one reason or another we all hoped he would break 
 the sort of spell of defeat that bound us. From the moment 
 he came no soldier with brains in his head talked or thought 
 of anyone else. How well I remember the first time I saw 
 him. I was sent to his quarters with a message from the 
 
ioo GREAT DAYS 
 
 general-in-chief, Dumerbion. Dumerbion was a good, 
 honest old slow-coach without a trace of ability. But I was 
 glad to take his message to General Bonaparte, for I wanted 
 to see the new man of whom they talked so much. As soon 
 as I got to his quarters on the Quai du Midi I was struck by 
 the quick eagerness of everyone, by a sort of strained anxiety 
 on every face, anxiety that would have been fear if it hadn't 
 also been enthusiasm. The officers at the door were not 
 chatting and smoking as in the quarters I had just left ; 
 but all on the qui vive> silent, alert. Upstairs the little 
 ante-chamber was crowded, yet no one was sitting down, 
 no one speaking. 
 
 " In a moment my name was taken to the general ; in a 
 moment more I was told to go in. Face to face with him I 
 was dumfounded ; he was so small smaller than I, very 
 thin, very weak-looking, with a saffron-yellow face ; but his 
 eyes were extraordinary observant, imperious, enigmatic. 
 
 " ' Eh bien ? ' he barked as I didn't speak. 
 
 " ' Dumerbion invites you, mon General^ to come to his 
 quarters,' I spluttered out, all my senses taken by his peculiar 
 appearance. 
 
 "'Qui done?' he asked. His Qui done? 5 'Who, 
 sir ? ' recalled me to myself. 
 
 " ' General Dumerbion,' I corrected myself. 
 
 " ' Return,' he said, ' tell the general-in-chief I will wait 
 on him immediately ! ' There was reproof in his formal 
 correction. 
 
 " I went through the room and down the stairs three at 
 a time and galloped to the general-in-chief s quarters as 
 if my life hung on every second. ' Why ? ' 
 
 " I can't tell you, except that that was the spirit Bona- 
 
GREAT DAYS 101 
 
 parte brought into everyone. I had scarcely given my 
 message to Dumerbion when I met Bonaparte coming up the 
 stairs ; there was a flash of recognition in his eyes as he passed 
 me that made my heart beat as if I had been a child, yet 
 I was far older than he. What would you ? The devil is 
 in the little fellow." 
 
 " But is he really great ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " Really great ! " Caressa laughed scornfully. " Oh yes, 
 my friend, really great. Look what he did. In 1792 we 
 were badly beaten by a handful of Germans under the orders 
 of General Beaulieu the very general whom Bonaparte 
 afterwards beat as if he had been dough. Think of it ! 
 There we were in February, '94, stuck in Nice opposite the 
 almost impregnable position of Saorgio where Massena had 
 been stopped, and Massena was a great general. Everyone 
 regarded Saorgio as impregnable. Massena even had said 
 that it couldn't be taken without better equipment and more 
 men. There it was, a strong position, guarded on one side 
 by the Alps, on the other side by the sea, and in the Port 
 of Oneille the English vessels, the allies of the Piedmontese 
 and the Austrians. Then think of our army. I was an 
 officer a lieutenant ; but the only pair of boots I had was a 
 pair of espadrilles (sea-sandals) like the fisher-boys wear ; 
 no stockings, and only one shirt that I used to wash myself. 
 Why, I remember at our first ball in Italy we officers 
 blacked our toes so that they shouldn't show too badly 
 through the boots. At that time in Nice I had had no 
 pay for nearly a year ; my wife and child and myself were 
 living on what my father and mother could give us. 
 Misery ! No wonder we were all down in the mouth and 
 grumbling. 
 
102 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " Then Bonaparte came and changed everything and 
 everybody. 
 
 " A great man ? you ask yes, indeed. In a week he 
 proposed a new plan of campaign which was adopted by the 
 Council of War. The Council was made up of young 
 Robespierre and Ricord, the representatives of the people, 
 and of the Generals Dumerbion, Massna, and Rusca. 
 Bonaparte had only young Robespierre on his side and his 
 own impetuous, imperious genius ; but his plan was adopted, 
 and on the morning of the sixth of April we started out. 
 
 "On the eighth of April we took the heights that dominated 
 Oneille ; within a month we had captured Saorgio and won 
 the Col di Tende, established communications with the 
 army of the Alps, and opened a broad road into Italy. In a 
 month, without any change except the one man, the mob 
 of beaten beggars had captured two strong places OneillSl 
 and Saorgio taken four thousand prisoners, five flags, and 
 seven pieces of cannon. No wonder Dumerbion in his 
 despatch to the Government wrote that our victories were 
 owing solely to ' the talent of General Bonaparte and his 
 wise plans.' 
 
 " A great man yes, my friend. And if the generals of 
 the army of the Alps hadn't been jealous of him, but united 
 with him, as he proposed, we should have swept Italy of the 
 Austrians two years before we did. And how they rewarded 
 him when Robespierre fell, sent him to prison la canaille 
 ah ! " and the little colonel's eyes glowed like live coals. 
 " But I could talk to you all day about him. I mustn't ; 
 I don't want to excite you, or the doctor '11 pull a face." 
 
 Colonel Caressa was called away by a row among the 
 prisoners. The English sailors were allowed to walk about 
 
GREAT DAYS 103 
 
 for a couple of hours in the middle of the day in the court- 
 yard, and they often had fights among themselves, which the 
 French jailers watched with wonder. When any other 
 prisoner wanted to complain, or thought himself badly 
 treated, he made a row, and so there was generally a certain 
 excitement and noise which seemed to Jack astonishing. A 
 jailer would dispute volubly with a prisoner for ten minutes 
 and then go away muttering, while the prisoner screamed new 
 arguments after him. At first Jack thought the want of 
 discipline comic, but he soon found it had a human side to it. 
 Jack had already noticed that the governor and doctor 
 were not very good friends ; no two men, indeed, could 
 be more unlike than fiery, kind little Caressa and Dr. 
 Sauvan. The doctor was a thin, tall man of about fifty, 
 with a head running up to a point at the back, which with 
 'its close-cropped grey hair reminded one ludicrously of a 
 snow-capped mountain peak. Otherwise his face was 
 remarkable chiefly for a pair of patient brown eyes and a long, 
 bony jaw. He may have been a republican and revolutionary, 
 as Caressa said, but he did not talk much about his political 
 opinions ; the Reign of Terror which he had lived through 
 in Paris had made him cautious. He always thought before 
 he spoke, and when in doubt, or thinking, he had a trick of 
 sucking his upper lip into his mouth which was eminently 
 characteristic. He was a master of his trade, and inspired 
 Jack with a certain confidence as a well-read and capable 
 man. As soon as the ice was broken between them Jack 
 noticed that he was naturally argumentative, and talked a 
 much purer and more bookish French than Caressa ; but 
 Jack preferred the little governor's short phrases and vivid 
 expressions. 
 
io 4 GREAT DAYS 
 
 In one of his early talks with Jack, Dr. Sauvan expressed 
 himself astonished by the quickness with which he was 
 regaining strength. 
 
 " Immense vitality you have," he said. " Are your father 
 and mother young ? " 
 
 " Fm the eldest," Jack replied. " My father was about 
 thirty when he married and my mother about twenty." 
 
 " I only ask," interjected the doctor, " because I have a 
 theory that a young father and mother give greater physical 
 energy to the offspring. That Bonaparte whom Colonel 
 Caressa is always talking about, the Italian condottiere, was 
 born, I believe, of a mother who was under sixteen. I 
 am astonished to find, too," Dr. Sauvan went on, " that your 
 head is long ; I expected an English head to be round 
 like German heads. Have you any Celtic blood in 
 you ? " 
 
 Although Jack heard the word Celtic for the first time 
 he divined its meaning. 
 
 " I suppose," he replied, " you would call me pure Celt ; 
 my father was Welsh and my mother Irish." 
 
 " That is just what I had imagined," cried the doctor, 
 evidently greatly pleased. " You have all the character- 
 istic traits of the Celtic race ; you are like our Bretons, long- 
 bodied, short -legged, very broad and strong." 
 
 He seemed to like Jack the better because the youth 
 happened to be a good example of one of his pet theories. 
 He was peculiarly logical, reflective and reasonable ; in 
 absolute contrast to the little colonel, as slow of blood and 
 quiet as the governor was passionate and explosive. For 
 some reason or other he inspired Jack with more confidence 
 than did Caressa ; but sooner or later the youth was sure 
 
GREAT DAYS 105 
 
 to find out that the irritable, passionate colonel had the 
 better heart and a more generous nature. 
 
 As soon as Jack began to go about the colonel told him 
 that he would accept his parole not to escape, and when Jack 
 asked him exactly what that meant he said : 
 
 " It is a privilege granted to officers. If you give your 
 word of honour not to escape and to come back to your cell 
 every night before nine o'clock, I'll give you a key and you'll 
 be free to go about in the daytime. I have to answer for 
 your appearance if the government wants you. But I've 
 no wish to make your detention painful. . . ." 
 
 Before giving his parole Jack wanted to see Gosport, and 
 Colonel Caressa made no difficulty in allowing a meeting, 
 Gosport advised him to give his word and to get the freedom. 
 
 " There is small chance of escape," he said, " unless you 
 know French like a native, for there is a great deal of hatred of 
 the English, ancl if you got out of the prison everybody would 
 give you up. Besides, if I were you, I'd get in with Colonel 
 Caressa, who seems a good little fellow. I am told he has a 
 great deal of influence with this Bonaparte, and he might 
 get you exchanged pretty easily. At any rate that's how 
 I'd try to work it if I were you." 
 
 Jack questioned him about the others and was desperately 
 sorry to hear that Riding was missing. Gosport would 
 have it that he was not drowned. 
 
 " I saw him just before we were taken off," he said, " and 
 he was certainly not injured then. I think you'll find he 
 got to shore." 
 
 " But the brig went down at once, didn't she ? " ques- 
 tioned Jack. 
 
 " No, no," replied Gosport. " Her decks were awash, 
 
io6 GREAT DAYS 
 
 but she was still afloat when we got to the frigate. Riding 
 and Knight were together at the companion-hatch and I 
 reckon that they floated it off when the brig sunk and tried 
 to make their way to shore on it. But we'll soon hear." 
 
 Jack questioned him further about the prison food and 
 treatment. The food Gosport thought good and the treat- 
 ment surprisingly lenient and kindly. But the want of 
 discipline in the prison struck him even more than it had 
 struck Jack. Still, he was fairly content and full of hope that 
 he might be exchanged quite soon. As he said : " We have 
 captured ten French sailors for every Englishman they've 
 got, so the exchange ought to be easy." He little knew how 
 difficult it was to bring about any agreement between the 
 two Governments. 
 
GREAT DAYS 107 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 AFTER about a month of prison Jack received his 
 first remittance from his father, with a long letter 
 telling him to ask for an exchange, because his 
 mother was broken-hearted at the idea of his being in prison, 
 and was taking his absence sadly to heart. His father warned 
 him to be careful with his money, for it might be difficult 
 to get it to him regularly, at the same time adding that if 
 money would help to free him he could have an advance up 
 to a considerable sum. The end of the letter frightened 
 Jack a little ; his father again said that his mother was weak 
 and ailing. Jack wrote to her at once to cheer her up, and 
 at the same time to his father, thanking him for the money ; 
 he was really well treated, he said, and was learning French, 
 and had completely recovered from the crack on the head. 
 They must think of him as quite happy. He begged his 
 father to tell him whether Riding or Knight had got home. 
 
 He made up his mind not to ask Colonel Caressa for any 
 account, but simply to give him fifty pounds a quarter ; 
 and knowing the colonel's vanity he thought he would 
 write him a letter thanking him and enclosing the money. 
 This he did, and thereby completed his conquest of the little 
 colonel. 
 
 After having promised not to escape himself nor to help 
 any of the other prisoners to get away, Jack was given the 
 
io8 GREAT DAYS 
 
 run of the prison, and as soon as he was strong enough to go 
 about he was allowed to go out for walks almost freely. 
 For some time he did not use this privilege much, for the 
 lower class townsfolk, and especially the sailors from French 
 men-o'-war, were exceedingly bitter against the English, 
 and Jack was recognised as an Englishman as soon as he 
 opened his mouth. Accordingly he kept a good deal to the 
 prison, and in the prison the only persons always free to 
 talk to him were the doctor and Colonel Caressa, for the 
 jailers evidently disliked his spending much time with the 
 other sailors. In fact, he found that the best thing he could 
 do was to ask formal permission and go to see Gosport and 
 the others only in company with the governor or doctor. 
 For these reasons he was thrown back on the company of 
 these two at all times, and nothing could have been better 
 for him than this companionship. 
 
 Sitting in the little parlour one day looking out on the 
 courtyard he asked the colonel whether the foils on the wall 
 were real swords or not, and immediately discovered that 
 he had got on the colonel's pet hobby. Caressa explained 
 to him not only the difference between the duelling sword 
 and the ordinary sword, but showed him a dozen specimens 
 of cavalry sabres. The revolutionary sword, a heavy, 
 straight weapon with the Gallic cock as a handle in solid 
 brass, which must have weighed a couple of pounds, took 
 Jack's fancy especially ; the artist had put all the defiance 
 of the " Marseillaise " into the crowing head. 
 
 Once launched on his own theme there was no stopping 
 Caressa. Before being made a lieutenant it appeared he 
 had been the mat ire d'armes of his regiment and a famous 
 swordsman. Jack showed such admiration, was so eager to 
 
GREAT DAYS 109 
 
 hear all about his exploits, that the colonel at length offered 
 to give him lessons. The offer was accepted with delight, 
 and the time fixed for practice, the morning hour before the 
 dejeuner and after the colonel had dealt with the daily report 
 of the prison. Of course, for some time the colonel was 
 easily Jack's superior, but in four or five months, served by 
 his quickness and strength, the youth made the contest 
 interesting. Caressa's lameness was, of course, a handicap 
 to him, and he encouraged Jack to take advantage of it. 
 But when, after five or six months, Jack became really expert 
 and his adversary's lameness began to tell against him 
 Caressa could not control his ill-humour. " Cette sacre"e 
 cuisse," he used to mutter every time he was touched, till at 
 length Jack wished that both his legs were sound so that he 
 should have no cause for complaint. Often and often the 
 game terminated in a real display of ill-humour, for Jack's 
 training had made him exceptionally quick and strong, and 
 when the colonel was touched twice in succession he invari- 
 ably lost his temper. But still the practice went on, for the 
 colonel loved the game and began to see that after all his 
 lameness was a very useful excuse. He took pleasure in 
 developing Jack's skill and quickness to the uttermost, and 
 before the end of the first year he had made the youth an 
 extraordinary swordsman, trained not only with the foil, 
 but with the cavalry sabre as well. Meanwhile, too, Jack 
 had learnt all sorts of different lessons from the fiery little 
 colonel and the philosophic doctor besides good colloquial 
 French. Sauvan believed in the Revolution almost as 
 devoutly as Caressa believed in Napoleon, and bit by bit 
 Jack came to understand that world-shaking event. 
 
 At first, of course, he talked in the usual English way of 
 
i io GREAT DAYS 
 
 the horrors of the Reign of Terror and the thousands of 
 ladies and gentlemen who were guillotined, but the doctor 
 would not have it. 
 
 " The nobles kicked up a great fuss," he said, " because 
 two or three thousand of them were executed ; they belonged 
 to the highest class and therefore everyone listened to them. 
 But no one says anything about the forty thousand men who 
 starved to death in France in the winter of 1788. You talk 
 about the fishwives of Paris, but you say nothing of the 
 thousands and thousands of hard-working women who year 
 after year saw their children die in infancy for want of 
 proper food." 
 
 Jack was compelled at length to realise that the selfishness 
 of the privileged classes was the first cause of the Revolu- 
 tion. 
 
 And when Jack brought forth the famous argument which 
 he had heard from Captain Nugent that there was no such 
 thing as equality in nature, and, therefore, it was silly to talk 
 of equality in life, he was confronted with new and impressive 
 arguments. Caressa admitted that absolute equality was 
 impossible and undesirable, but he insisted that the French 
 Revolution had brought about a great approach towards 
 equality, and that the natural differences between one man 
 and another had been exaggerated and made more unjust 
 than they were in reality by bad laws of inheritance which 
 now in France at least had been bettered. He often gave 
 the dress of men as an instance of what he meant. 
 
 " Before the Revolution," he said, " it was common for 
 a noble to spend two or three hundred thousand livres on a 
 single suit ; now there is a great approach towards equality 
 in dress, and everyone is the better for it. ... 
 
GREAT DAYS in 
 
 " The belief in equality is the gospel of our time. Look 
 how we treat prisoners and criminals to-day. Formerly 
 the criminal was looked upon as a wild beast and tortured ; 
 to-day, thanks to this doctrine of equality, the magistrates 
 all know that they must think of him as a man like themselves. 
 They must consider his failings and his faults as they would 
 their own, and so the barbarous penal laws of the past, all 
 stained in blood and defiled with cruelty, are being swept 
 away. We used to kill a man in France for stealing even out 
 of hunger ; could anything be more monstrbus ? " 
 
 A new light seemed to shine into Jack's mind. " I 
 remember," he said, " reading in a paper just before I left 
 England of a boy who had broken a pane of glass in a shop 
 window after sunset and stolen a spoon. He was sentenced 
 to be hanged for burglary because it was after sunset, 
 although the shop was not even closed." 
 
 " A child ? " cried Caressa. 
 
 " A boy of thirteen," replied Jack. 
 
 " What barbarous cruelty ! " cried Sauvan ; " cruelty 
 that would be impossible in France and will soon be impos- 
 sible in England," and he shot out his under-lip over the 
 upper one in the trick peculiar to him when thinking. A 
 moment later he went on : " Our Revolution was not only 
 a revolt against bad government and the exploitation of the 
 poor ; it had its ideal striving, too." 
 
 " What do you mean by that ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " Pagan civilisation," Sauvan replied, " was founded on 
 slavery ; our modern civilisation tnust be founded on uni- 
 versal labour. Privileged position damages the privileged ; 
 the noble in France will be better now that he has to earn 
 his bread like other men. Labour is the first condition of 
 
ii2 GREAT DAYS 
 
 life. The time will come when women, too, will see that it 
 is their duty to do their share of work in the world." 
 
 Even Caressa was inclined to admit that there was some 
 truth in the doctor's praise of the Revolution. 
 
 " I often wondered," he said, " why we beat the Austrians 
 so easily, and I think it was because the principles of the 
 French Revolution appealed to everyone, and brought us 
 sympathy everywhere. All through our campaigns in 
 Italy," he went on, " whenever we struck up the * Marseil- 
 laise ' we found our enemies taking it up and singing it too. 
 It's the hymn of human revolt." 
 
 Sauvan added sententiously : " Within the next ten or 
 twenty years the French Revolution will be regarded as the 
 best thing that ever happened to men the sacred charter 
 of humanity." 
 
 Jack was enormously interested in these talks ; the points 
 of view of the two men were so different that they worked 
 on his mind like sunshine and rain work on the earth, 
 forcing it to produce. He began to think for himself on 
 all questions, and his mind grew in quickness and strength 
 as rapidly as his body. 
 
 He had spent six or seven months in Cherbourg when 
 the colonel announced to him one morning that his niece 
 Suzanne was finally leaving school and coming to live with 
 him. 
 
 " I have seen very little of her," he said. " Her mother 
 died long ago, her father quite lately. Prison is no place 
 for her," he added ; " she's too young. But she tells me 
 she has learnt all that the school can teach, and she wants 
 to come home, and of course I want to have her. She's 
 very like her mother, who died the day after Lodi the 
 
GREAT DAYS 113 
 
 day I was made colonel and could hope to give her a little 
 easier time, for my pay was doubled. Good luck often 
 comes too late in this world. ..." 
 
 " Perhaps I shall be in mademoiselle's way ? " said Jack, 
 partly to divert his companion's thoughts from the sad 
 subject and partly to know how much the routine of the 
 house would be changed by this new inmate. 
 
 " No, no," said the colonel ; " she writes to me that 
 she wants the little room on the first floor ; it is just above 
 yours, by the way. I did it up prettily for her when I 
 came here a couple of years ago." 
 
 A few days afterwards the girl arrived at Cherbourg in 
 the diligence, and the governor went to meet it on the 
 square in front of the church of La Trinite. 
 
 Jack stayed in his own room and waited. About eleven 
 o'clock they came in, and he heard a girl's clear voice chat- 
 tering and laughing before she ran upstairs to her room. 
 He could hear her walking on the floor above his head ; 
 then in a little while she came down again and went into 
 the tiny dining-room beside his room. He could almost 
 feel her moving about, in spite of the wall that divided 
 them, so wrought up was he ; his heart was beating, he 
 hardly knew why. He was a little cross with himself for 
 being excited. What was she like ? he wondered. 
 
 Then came the colonel's quick, sharp voice calling to 
 him that dtjeuner was ready. IJe went into the room and 
 was presented to Mademoiselle Suzanne. Jack was pre- 
 pared to see a girl of sixteen or seventeen, and, judging by 
 himself at that age, he expected to find almost a child. He 
 was presented to a young lady who bowed to him with 
 the ease of an old acquaintance. She was about medium 
 
 I 
 
n 4 GREAT DAYS 
 
 height and very dark, her features small and fairly regular, 
 the face a little sharp, with pointed chin, the eyes so large 
 they looked, he thought, like prunes in milk, and masses 
 of black hair arranged in heavy bands. 
 
 " I know you so well, Mr. Jack," she began, " from my 
 uncle's letters. It is as- if I had known you for months, 
 only you are quite different from what I thought." 
 
 " Really ! " exclaimed Jack, taken back by this sudden 
 assault. His first glance had shown him that she was 
 attractive ; as he began to look at her carefully he thought 
 her beautiful. She looked up and caught him examining 
 her, and broke into a laugh which hardly accounted for 
 her heightened colour. 
 
 " You're amused ? " said Jack. 
 
 " My own thoughts amuse me very often," she replied, 
 smiling. 
 
 Jack was a little resentful of her complete ease and 
 detachment. He was annoyed, too, by the quick glance 
 that merely seemed to touch him mockingly, and he shut 
 himself up in silence and seriousness. 
 
 " We missed our lesson, sir," he said to the colonel ; 
 " perhaps you will give me a longer one to-morrow." 
 
 " Of course," the colonel agreed ; " we mustn't leave 
 it off long enough to get stiff. Now I'm in training again 
 I think the half-hour sword-play does my lameness good." 
 
 Jack went to his room after the lunch, his heart a-flutter, 
 wondering how he could make Suzanne like him. He 
 wanted to make her care for him intensely but how ? 
 Should he show her that he thought her pretty and liked 
 her, or should he conceal it all ? He determined to show 
 nothing. His training with the sword had taught him 
 
GREAT DAYS 115 
 
 that he could win if his adversary could not divine his 
 intention. He made up his mind to wait. To be treated 
 lightly by a mere girl was intolerable ; he would be very 
 dignified and courteous. He succeeded in being rather 
 gloomy and ill at ease. 
 
 Meanwhile Suzanne, too, was not at her best ; she had 
 been interested and her curiosity excited by her uncle, who 
 was always singing young Morgan's praises in his letters. 
 She left school and 'came home just to meet Jack ; a flirta- 
 tion with a man, she decided, would be a great deal more 
 amusing than more lessons. When her uncle met her he 
 told her how Jack had given him fifty pounds, and how 
 in his letter he had hoped that the same sum quarterly 
 might be accepted as a fair price for his board. The 
 generosity and courtesy, and perhaps a little the money 
 itself, had had a great effect on Colonel Caressa and had 
 a still greater effect on the girl. She came to the meeting 
 gravely prepared to meet a hero, and found Jack glancing 
 at her half-timidly, half-admiringly. She could not help 
 laughing gaily. He had come down from his pedestal and 
 her coquetry told her that his conquest would be even 
 easier than she had hoped ; his evident admiration flattered 
 her deliciously. 
 
 But when he drew away ana answered in monosyllables 
 she was afraid she had hurt him in some way. The definite 
 fear struck her : perhaps he did not want to like a French 
 girl, a Catholic ? She promised herself to find out next 
 day and to show him at least that she was no bigot. Her 
 uncle's contempt of all religion and Dr. Sauvan's sarcasms 
 had dried up the fount of pious enthusiasm in her, which 
 may have rendered her more eager to spend her faculty 
 
ii6 GREAT DAYS 
 
 of admiration on some man. However this may be, Made- 
 moiselle Suzanne saw she had made an impression on Jack, 
 and determined that all she had to do was to stand aloof 
 and he would come after her. She would not meet him 
 till next day, she decided, and under the pretext of a little 
 fatigue she kept to her room that evening. 
 
 In bed she decided to meet him at breakfast, and she 
 made the most careful toilette possible. But before break- 
 fast she heard talking, stamping, and the ring of swords 
 outside in the courtyard, and when she peeped through 
 her blind she saw Jack and her uncle fencing as if their 
 lives depended on each hit. She could have cried with 
 annoyance ; what silly creatures men were to go exciting 
 themselves like that about nothing ! But when the sport 
 had continued for a quarter of an hour, and some of the 
 jailers had come to witness it, she made up her mind to 
 go down too. Perhaps that would put a stop to it ; any- 
 how it was nearly breakfast time. 
 
 Some time before this the colonel had found that one 
 of his turnkeys named Chichet was an old soldier who 
 plumed himself on his skill with the sword. He was at 
 once called upon to show what he could do, and the colonel 
 was delighted to find that if Jack was getting a little too 
 quick for him he was always Chichet's master. On this 
 particular morning he gave himself the pleasure of playing 
 umpire in a conflict between Chichet and Jack. The two 
 had been fencing about five minutes when Mademoiselle 
 Suzanne made her appearance, as demure as possible. No 
 one noticed her .for a minute or two and her uncle even 
 put out his hand to hold her back. She laughed aloud 
 at the intent earnestness all the men showed in the game, 
 
GREAT DAYS 117 
 
 but at the laugh Jack only redoubled his efforts and touched 
 Chichet twice or thrice in quick succession. 
 
 " He is doing his best," said mademoiselle to herself, 
 " because I'm here." The consciousness gave her heightened 
 colour and bright eyes the assurance of victory. 
 
 When the swords dropped she rewarded him With : 
 " How well you fence, Mr. Jack ; I had no idea anybody 
 could be so quick." 
 
 Jack had hardly time to say " Good-morning " to her 
 when her uncle asked him for one more bout, and the two 
 began again. At first Jack intended to do his best and 
 show that he could master the colonel as easily as Chichet, 
 but of a sudden he realised that the older man was playing 
 his very best, meaning to win if possible, and he made 
 up his mind to let him win. After all, Caressa had been 
 very kind to him, and it was only natural that he should 
 desire his niece's admiration. 
 
 Chichet stood near Mademoiselle Suzanne while the two 
 were fencing. 
 
 " My uncle is very clever, isn't he ? " she said. 
 
 " Very," replied Chichet, " but the Englishman is extra- 
 ordinary." 
 
 " There ! " she cried, " my uncle touched him." 
 
 " Yes," Chichet admitted, " but it is only because the 
 Englishman is not trying ; I never saw him fence so badly." 
 
 Again that tell-tale colour came into Mademoiselle 
 Suzanne's face. He had triumphed over Chichet for her ; 
 he was sparing her uncle for her. It was already he, he. 
 Something magnanimous in Jack's conduct touched her 
 deeply : were men larger-minded and nobler than women ? 
 she wondered. In her heart she decided that he was. She 
 
ii8 GREAT DAYS 
 
 grew a little apprehensive when she thought over all his 
 qualities. Meanwhile Jack had been brought to good- 
 humour by his own conscious superiority at the game and 
 by the mere fact that the girl was looking on. 
 
 When at length they stopped he turned towards her 
 with a merry look and smile. Her eyes could not help 
 getting entangled in his for a moment. She was extremely 
 pretty, he decided, and Suzanne cast her eyes down in a little 
 flutter of delicious shyness ; had she shown him too clearly ? 
 And so Mother Nature played her old game with the two 
 children. 
 
 A new life began for Jack. He found himself going for 
 walks and drives with Suzanne and her uncle, sometimes 
 round the town and the great bay, at other times up the 
 heights that lay behind the town to this fort or that 
 endless excursions. The girl seemed to have quicksilver 
 in her veins, so full of life was she and ever new projects. 
 The truth is, she was tasting all the delights of first love, 
 watching the flower of it grow in her, tending it as only 
 a girl-woman can tend it, thrilling again and again with 
 the certainty that the great moment was coming nearer 
 and nearer. 
 
 Jack in the meantime was a little exasperated, a little 
 puzzled. If in the carriage he touched her foot a little 
 obviously she would draw it away with a smile or word 
 of excuse ; she always seemed to like to be with him, but 
 she avoided any opportunity of being alone with him. He 
 could not make her out. Now and then he got piqued 
 by her apparent unconsciousness, and showed ill-temper, 
 but she soon laughed and chased away the clouds ; no 
 sullenness could stand long against her good temper and 
 
GREAT DAYS 119 
 
 gay kindness. Jack began to be obsessed by her ; every 
 detail of her face and every line of her figure were imprinted 
 in him. He could shut his eyes and see her at any moment. 
 On this drive he had been struck by the beautiful oval of 
 her jaw like a peeled egg in white, smooth, firm outline 
 exquisite, he decided, with a thrill ; on another occasion 
 his eye had caught the outline of her hip and thigh, and 
 the hesitating curve remained with him as a symbol of 
 beauty. Once indeed, getting into the little carriage the 
 horses started just as she was preparing to sit down, and 
 threw her back into her seat, and Jack had a glimpse of 
 shapely limbs which set all his pulses throbbing. At will 
 he could close his eyes and relive any of the charming 
 moments. Continually as she got out of the carriage or 
 into it he touched her involuntarily. Sometimes looking 
 at her mouth he felt that he must kiss her, and then her 
 eyes would meet his and he became ashamed of his thoughts ; 
 or else she would draw his attention to some humorous 
 thing in the street, and laughter would relieve the obsession. 
 Day and night now she was with him. * 
 
 One morning just after breakfast Chichet brought some 
 big keys in, and as he laid them down he said : 
 
 " I have been through all the dungeons, sir, and under- 
 ground cells. The water is coming into numbers eleven 
 and twelve ; they should be cleaned out." 
 
 At once Mademoiselle Suzanne seized the occasion : 
 " Oh, let us visit them ; I should love to see the dungeons." 
 
 Soon they were following Chichet down steps all green 
 and dark that wound below the cellars. Chichet went in 
 front with a lantern and kept swinging it behind him to 
 show the way. Jack had also one that he put carefully 
 
120 GREAT DAYS 
 
 forward so as to guide Suzanne's little feet. She shrank 
 back from the first cell ; she would not go in, she had 
 seen enough. The cell was about eight feet square, really 
 a black hole lighted only by the little guichet or barred 
 window fixed at the very top of the door. 
 
 When the door was thrown open " How terrible ! " 
 she cried, paling at the thought of living in such a place. 
 
 " These are the best," Chichet explained ; " the second 
 range down below to the north are underneath these and 
 they have no guichet at all in the doors ; they are black 
 holes, and from number eleven on to the east the water's 
 coming in and there are crowds of rats ; nobody could 
 live in them for long." 
 
 " Let us see them," said Jack, partly out of curiosity, 
 partly with the hope that fortune might favour him and 
 give him a minute or two alone with Suzanne. They 
 went along the corridor and followed Chichet down some 
 more steps. They had to take care, for the stone steps 
 were dank and slippery. Here was another row of cells. 
 Chichet opened one of the doors ; the darkness of it was 
 appalling, it made itself felt, it was like blindness. 
 
 " Let us go in a moment," whispered Suzanne, shuddering, 
 " and close the door. I want to see what effect it has. 
 First of all, hide the lantern, Monsieur Jack, and when we 
 call you will open, Monsieur Chichet, won't you ? " 
 
 Jack's heart began to beat. They stepped inside the 
 door. He held the lantern behind him and took her arm 
 in his. She gave a faint little cry and then said : 
 
 " Give me the lantern." 
 
 Jack gave her the lantern and she held it high above her 
 head. Her face was in half-darkness ; the gleam of the 
 
GREAT DAYS 121 
 
 lantern fell on the line of her bust, strained a little by her 
 uplifted arm. Jack could not resist the temptation ; in 
 a moment he had put his arms about her. 
 
 " I love you," he cried. Did she give him her lips for 
 a moment, or did their lips meet just as she was already 
 slipping out of his arms ? 
 
 " Open, Monsieur Chichet," she cried, and the door was 
 opened and the pale light struggled in. " No, I won't go 
 down any more," she decided. " I must get up to the 
 light, straight up," she commanded imperiously. Again 
 Chichet led the way and Jack followed, wondering whether 
 he had offended her, but with the image of her as she stood 
 in the cell printed in his very being. Without closing his 
 eyes he could see the rounded outline of the breast and the 
 splash of light on it and the lips above. 
 
 When they came into the courtyard they found the 
 doctor and colonel together, and Mademoiselle Suzanne 
 was full of questions. Could people live in such dungeons ? 
 What sort of people used to be sent there ? Her uncle 
 told her that people had been confined there withoVt trial 
 under the old regime ; the books showed that one man 
 had lived in number seven for five years. 
 
 " Men and women were treated worse than we would 
 treat wild beasts," Sauvan remarked, " but the Revolution 
 changed all that. I was astonished the other day," he 
 went on, " to find that they didn't spend on the prisoners' 
 food one quarter of what we spend. They murdered their 
 victims by slow starvation while torturing them with bad 
 air, darkness, and solitude." 
 
 Jack was not in tune at the moment for political dis- 
 cussion. He was in a fever. He made up his mind to take 
 
122 GREAT DAYS 
 
 the first occasion to find out whether Suzanne cared for 
 him or not. He could not wait ; he must know. All that 
 day she seemed to avoid him, or at least no occasion pre- 
 sented itself. But fortune favours intense desire. Next 
 morning, just after breakfast, Colonel Caressa was called out 
 by Chichet to speak to a prisoner on the fourth floor who 
 was making a row over his food. The colonel went out 
 hurriedly and left Suzanne and Jack standing together 
 before the window. 
 
 Jack went nearer, meaning to speak to her, but she 
 turned her head over her shoulder to look at him, for he 
 was almost behind her, and as she did so he drew her head 
 back and began kissing her. She tried to draw away, but 
 he hardly recognised himself ; he held her tensely, he 
 would not let her move. 
 
 " Kiss me," he cried imperiously, " you did in the 
 dungeon," and almost against her will her lips gave them- 
 selves to him and her eyes as well. Again and again he 
 kissed her, pushing back her face to see the beauty of it, 
 then kissing her again and again hungrily. 
 
 " You do love me ? " she whispered, looking at him. 
 
 " You know I do." 
 
 " He is coming," she said after a moment, " he is coming," 
 and she lifted her face up and kissed him of her own accord 
 hurriedly. 
 
 The next moment they heard the colonel's footsteps 
 in the hall, and started apart. 
 
 " That Chichet makes mountains out of mole-hills," 
 cried the colonel hotly. 
 
 " What was it ? " said Jack. 
 
 " The soup was burnt a little, but nothing that anyone 
 
GREAT DAYS 123 
 
 couldn't eat, so I told the fellow if he didn't like it he 
 could go without, and he quickly made up his mind to enjoy 
 what he could get." 
 
 Jack and Suzanne caught themselves smiling deliciously. 
 For a moment their eyes had met, each understood what 
 the other was thinking ; they, too, had enjoyed what they 
 could get. 
 
124 GREAT DAYS 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THEN began for Jack and for Suzanne a series of 
 unforgettable experiences ; they were like two 
 highly-sensitised plates on which the slightest 
 variation of light and shade, of warmth or cold, left deep 
 impressions. There were continual scenes between them. 
 In fact, there was such tension in the strings that the 
 slightest touch rang in music or shrilled in discord. 
 
 One day Jack came in quickly and found Suzanne talking 
 at the door of the parlour to a sous-officier named Lairolle. 
 He had never noticed the fellow before, but now he saw 
 that Lairolle was very attractive in an animal, full-blooded 
 way, a big fellow with good features, long, fair moustaches, 
 and large brown eyes alight with life and vigour. 
 
 Suzanne turned to Jack at once with a smile, but he 
 could have sworn she had been giving her eyes at least to 
 Lairolle, and he was furious. The fellow was devouring 
 her with bold, admiring glance, stripping her. Jack felt 
 it like a desecration and his blood boiled. He wanted to 
 insult him, but could find nothing to say. As Suzanne 
 turned to Jack smiling Lairolle said : 
 
 " Eh bien, mademoiselle ; 93 se fera, j'y veillerai " 
 (I'll see to it), and he was gone. 
 
 Suzanne's smile vanished when she saw Jack glowering. 
 
GREAT DAYS 125 
 
 " What's the matter. Jack ? " she cried in astonishment, 
 " aren't you well ? " 
 
 " I'm all right," he said sulkily, thinking her unconscious- 
 ness put on. 
 
 " You're not nice to-day," she said. 
 
 " Not so nice as Lairolle, eh ? " 
 
 She got angry at once : " What do you mean Lairolle ? 
 You must be mad." 
 
 " No," he retorted, " but I have eyes in my head and 
 I saw." 
 
 " You saw nothing," she cried, flaming, " nothing ; do 
 you hear ? You're telling lies. There was nothing to 
 see," she added disdainfully, turning away. 
 
 Her indignation showed him that she was telling the 
 truth, and already to his surprise his anger had nearly 
 ebbed away ; but still he felt injured, he hardly knew why. 
 
 " What were you talking to Lairolle for ? He's only a 
 sous-officier" 
 
 " That's my business," she retorted, " you have no right 
 to question me." 
 
 " As you like," he replied shortly ; " when you see me 
 making eyes at a pretty girl, you'll perhaps get the same 
 answer." 
 
 " Oh, how stupid you are," she said, stamping her foot 
 and flushing. " I was only asking him," she burst out 
 " but I won't tell you," she broke off, " you make me 
 ashamed," and she turned away, her breast heaving. 
 
 " Do tell me," he pleaded, taking her into his arms, 
 " I want to know." Then, seeing the big tears in her 
 eyes, he cried, repentant, " Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. 
 Forgive me." 
 
126 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " I was only asking him," she said, choking down her 
 sobs, " to get some fireworks for your birthday. And you 
 get cross, and I don't know what I have done ; you make 
 me miserable." 
 
 " Oh, I'm sorry," he cried. " Shall I go on my knees 
 and beg pardon ? " and he went on his knees at once and 
 stretched his arms about her. 
 
 He looked so funny, and she was so relieved to think 
 it was all nothing and he did care for her, that she burst 
 out laughing through her tears. He drew her down and 
 she stooped and kissed him, and left sticky wet drops on 
 his forehead which he tried to shake into his mouth by way 
 of penance. Suzanne laughed again at this and shook away 
 her tears, and peace was made. 
 
 The reconciliation was completed by long kisses in the 
 end. Jack took a completer possession of her than before, 
 for he explained to her that he was very jealous and that 
 when he was jealous it was like having a thorn in his foot, 
 which he could not get at, but which she must take out 
 at once. 
 
 Suzanne listened with big eyes, approving : " If it is 
 only jealousy I'll soon cure that," she cried, deliciously 
 pleased ; " but you frightened me. I thought you disliked 
 me, and it hurt so. I thought you were only making a 
 pretext of Lairolle, for I don't care for him at all, he doesn't 
 exist for me, and that made me angry." 
 
 And again and again she gave her lips. 
 
 It must not be thought that the jealous misunder- 
 standings were all on Jack's side ; though, as there were 
 no girls in the prison and many men, there were more 
 occasions for his discontent. 
 
GREAT DAYS 127 
 
 One evening they went to the theatre to hear a play 
 of Corneille, " Polyeucte," and the heroine was the famous 
 actress Mademoiselle Clairon. Jack thought her wonderful, 
 with a face as expressive as her voice. She threw such 
 passion into her love-making that she swept the youth 
 away. In the prison scene, when the heroine is converted 
 by her lover and becomes a Christian, Jack's eyes filled 
 with tears. 
 
 Suzanne had been a little annoyed by the warmth of his 
 admiration for Mademoiselle Clairon, and had been watching 
 him. When she saw his rapt face her heart grew cold as 
 lead ; she felt that Clairon was only acting, that it was 
 the beautiful words which gave her such power. She 
 wished she could say such things, but she could not ; she 
 felt very stupid and that made her angry. Then she noticed 
 Mademoiselle Clairon's make-up and saw that her figure had 
 grown heavy. " She is old, old," she said to herself, " forty 
 or forty-two at least, and if the make-up were washed off 
 she would be all wrinkly and have crows'-feet round her 
 eyes and skin like a plucked fowl." 
 
 Just then she caught Jack staring in admiration and she 
 burst out laughing. He turned crossly to her with a question 
 in his face, and she retorted wickedly : 
 
 " Is it her crows'-feet or her double chin you admire ? " 
 At heart she was defiant, contemptuous. But Jack did not 
 understand. 
 
 " She's wonderful," he cried. " I don't see any crows'- 
 feet, and her voice is music. . . ." 
 
 When they got home and the colonel went in to change 
 his boots and his uniform Jack tried to kiss Suzanne. 
 
 " No, no," she exclaimed, pushing him off and looking 
 
128 GREAT DAYS 
 
 at him with critical, hard eyes. " I'm tired, don't worry 
 me. I don't want to kiss," and she turned her head away. 
 
 " What is it ? " he cried in surprise. 
 
 " Nothing," she answered wearily, disdainfully. " I'm 
 a little tired, that's all." 
 
 He had not sympathy enough to understand a jealousy 
 that was silent because it was of the heart and not of the 
 senses, and brought with it a feeling of humiliation that 
 intensified the suffering. 
 
 " What is it, dear ? " he asked again, distressed by her 
 coldness, not even dreaming of any jealousy on her part ; 
 for Mademoiselle Clairon had only spoken to his brain and 
 artistic feeling, and not at all to his desire. 
 
 But Suzanne looked at him out of hard, expressionless 
 eyes and said nothing. Jack was really distressed at her 
 angry, obstinate silence. 
 
 Just then the colonel came in full of the performance, 
 which he considered excellent. 
 
 " Extraordinary," cried tactless Jack, agreeing with him. 
 " Clarion spoke with such passion she made one's heart 
 beat." 
 
 Suzanne could stand no more. She was tingling with 
 indignation. Clairon was old, old and ugly. He was a 
 fool ; she had had too much of it, she could not care 
 for anyone so stupid as to fall into ecstasy over an old 
 painted hag. 
 
 " I'm tired, I'm going to bed," she said listlessly in a 
 toneless voice. 
 
 " All right," said her uncle, unheeding, kissing her ; 
 " a good night's sleep will set you up again," and he let 
 her go. 
 
GREAT DAYS 129 
 
 She just nodded to Jack and went. But Jack could not 
 let it end there. As he sat and thought of her weary, pale 
 face his heart contracted. Had he done anything wrong ? 
 What was the matter ? Could she be angry with his praise 
 of Mademoiselle Clairon ? Impossible, but 
 
 What excuse could he make to see her ? 
 
 " I think mademoiselle should have her bouillon. Do 
 you think I might take it up to her ? " | 
 
 " If you like," replied the colonel, yawning, evidently 
 surprised ; " but she said she was not hungry." 
 
 Jack seized the thick cup and went upstairs and knocked 
 at the door. It was opened almost immediately by Suzanne, 
 who, as he could see by the dim light of the candle, had 
 not taken her things off. 
 
 " I brought you your bouillon" he cried, " you really 
 must take it ; you look very tired." 
 
 " Thanks," she said in her toneless voice, " but I don't 
 
 Jack put the cup down at once on the floor and ventured 
 to step into the room and take her in his arms. 
 
 " What is it ? " he whispered. 
 
 " Nothing," she replied, as if surprised. 
 
 " But there must be something," he went on ; " and I 
 love you so I couldn't sleep while you are so changed." 
 
 She looked at him, considering him. 
 
 " You know that," he cried, " if you're not happy my 
 love makes me miserable. Come, naughty ; what is it ? 
 The thorn ? " 
 
 " Oh no, no," she said, all the more determined to con- 
 ceal her feeling now that she began to think it was perhaps 
 not justified. " I'm very tired, that's all ; I don't know why." 
 
i 3 o GREAT DAYS 
 
 In spite of the repetition of " tired " Jack felt she was 
 thawing, and kept on caressing and assuring her of his 
 love. At length he found the right note. 
 
 " You were looking so well this evening," he said, " when 
 we first went to the theatre radiant, with that pretty lace 
 thing round your face lovely." 
 
 " Did you think so ? " she asked, and as by a miracle 
 the colour flooded her cheeks again and her eyes grew 
 bright. 
 
 " Of course," replied Jack, kissing her ; " you know 
 you're the loveliest girl alive better dressed, too, than 
 anyone." 
 
 " Oh no," she said, with an air of thoughtful fairness, 
 " Mademoiselle Clairon's dress in the third act as the 
 emperor's daughter was superb ; it gave her distinction, 
 elegance." 
 
 " She never had your eyes, your skin or mouth," cried 
 Jack with love's cunning, kissing her again. And now she 
 kissed him in return with clinging tenderness, yielding 
 herself to him. The truth is that in the revulsion of feeling 
 from loss and loneliness to possession and joy she thought 
 of him for the first time as her very own, her man, her 
 lover, and at once her lips grew hot, and at the thought 
 that he must notice it she hid her face on his shoulder in 
 confusion. But her soft kiss had set him aflame, though 
 he did not realise the reason, and with one arm round her 
 waist and the other round her neck he held her to him, 
 kissing her again and again. 
 
 Suddenly they heard the colonel's voice from below : 
 " Why don't you come down ? " he said sharply. " Let 
 Suzanne go to sleep." 
 
GREAT DAYS 131 
 
 In silence Jack pressed the cup into her hand, and she 
 drank now, at once, putting her other hand on his with a 
 gesture of ineffable tenderness. As he took the cup he bent 
 his head and kissed her breast before hurrying downstairs. 
 
 The intercourse with Suzanne was a perpetual education 
 for Jack ; again and again, as in the case of Lairolle, he was 
 astonished by her unselfish thought of him. But bit by 
 bit he was forced to the conclusion that, just as his love 
 was made up of three parts desire and one part affection, 
 hers was made up of three parts tenderness and one part 
 passion. He came to realise that in all the offices of love 
 she was easily, completely, his superior ; he would not 
 admit it to himself, but at the back of his mind he was 
 always sure of it, and this consciousness that she was con- 
 tinually thinking of him and his well-being made it in- 
 creasingly easy for him to forgive her outbursts of temper. 
 She was astonishingly vain and quick-tempered, but her 
 anger soon blew over or talked itself out, and she never 
 sulked or bore malice ; seemed incapable, indeed, of even 
 remembering injuries. She was an excellent companion, 
 always vivid and gay, and as observant as she was irreflective, 
 with an astonishing foundation of common sense and pru- 
 dence that translated themselves into all sorts of quaint 
 proverbial expressions, the small currency of mental inter- 
 course. 
 
 When it came to staying up late at a dance or drinking 
 a glass extra of champagne " Bah ! " she would cry, " une 
 fois n'est pas coutume." Consoling phrases, ripe fruits of 
 experience, were always in her mouth : " Work brings 
 health ; saving wealth," and, above all : " Luck and ill- 
 luck ; sunshine and shower ripen the corn." 
 
1 32 GREAT DAYS 
 
 Jack's self-tormenting, inquisitive mind was as foreign 
 to her as his ever-present desire. She was as normal, 
 healthy, as he was abnormal and passionate. The promis- 
 cuity of the house, the incessant intercourse, tempted him 
 continually ; the presence of her uncle even was an addi- 
 tional sting. The three were perhaps together talking 
 when the colonel would be called away on some question 
 of the prison ; at once Jack would take Suzanne in his 
 arms and begin kissing and fondling her. The colonel 
 would return, and the pair had to separate and pretend 
 to be talking like a brother and sister would talk. 
 
 If Jack were reading in the parlour Suzanne would hurry 
 in and kiss him ; if she passed him on the way to the market 
 or returning he would seize and kiss her ; sitting opposite 
 each other at table their feet sought each other's inevitably. 
 
 Gradually as she taught him tenderness he awakened her 
 passion. The truth is, the kiss she had given him that night 
 after the theatre in her bedroom was always in his mind. 
 He could never be satisfied, he felt, till he could get her 
 to kiss him like that again. 
 
 But for a long time he could not find the way to his 
 lesire. He tried to excite her by kissing and caressing her, 
 and was vaguely disappointed with the result, a little hurt 
 by her self-control. It was chance helped him to better 
 knowledge. Returning from a drive one day they were 
 stopped at the octroi^ and while waiting to be allowed to 
 pass they were approached by some beggars a man and 
 wife with a young baby. They were all emaciated, starving, 
 woe-begone. Suzanne gave all she had, a couple of francs, 
 to the mother ;" Jack asked the man why he did not work. 
 He replied that he had had to pawn all his carpenter's 
 
GREAT DAYS 133 
 
 tools to get bread, and now could not get work at his trade 
 without tools. 
 
 " How much does a set of tools cost ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " At least a hundred francs," replied the man with 
 despairing eyes ; " with tools I could soon get out of this 
 misery." He scarcely dared even to hope. 
 
 " Here are the hundred francs," replied Jack, handing 
 him the money. The man burst into tears, the wife tried 
 to kiss Jack's hand. . . . 
 
 As soon as the carriage was through the octroi and moving 
 along the road Suzanne turned to Jack and flung her arms 
 round his neck. 
 
 " You great Jack," she cried ; " I love you." 
 
 And as their lips met he realised at once that she was 
 kissing him again with real passion, as she had kissed him 
 in the bedroom. The way to her senses was through her 
 heart. He soon discovered that every time he moved her 
 to admiration by some generosity, or to sympathy by some 
 tender thoughtfulness, or even gratified her vanity by some 
 far-fetched praise, she rewarded him with a more complete 
 abandonment. At length he had found the key : love in 
 her was more of the spirit than of the body. 
 
 Suzanne was even quicker to solve the enigma of sex 
 as it presented itself to her. At first she believed that all 
 she had to do to win him was to give herself to him com- 
 pletely. But she soon discovered that by withholding her- 
 self and giving a little she increased his desire. With all 
 a Frenchwoman's instinctive quickness and resolve to win 
 sovereignty over her lover Suzanne studied Jack, and soon 
 realised that he cared most for her when she was at her 
 proudest, coldest, and most indifferent. He loved to win 
 
134 GREAT DAYS 
 
 her anew at each meeting, and desired her most when she 
 showed him some unexpected beauty of figure or of colour- 
 ing. The way to his heart was through his sense of beauty 
 and his passionate desire. Every time she yielded some- 
 thing to him she did it as if reluctantly, and she was aware 
 of an increase of tenderness on his part and of passion in 
 herself. It was ineffably sweet to her to be able to call 
 forth his desire at will ; it gave her a sense of power that 
 gratified the inmost fibres of her vanity. So they came nearer 
 the supreme moment day by day. 
 
 One evening Suzanne was a little out of temper, and 
 Jack had found it difficult to win her and ease the tension. 
 They were never alone, he said to himself bitterly. 
 
 Before he could make up his mind what to do Suzanne 
 said " Good-night " indifferently and went up to bed. 
 The colonel followed what he called " the good example," 
 and perforce Jack, too, had to go to bed. From his room 
 Jack could hear Suzanne moving about for a long time ; 
 her little feet seemed to be walking on his heart. He 
 pictured her undressing, and relived again those moments 
 of their life together which had marked stages in their 
 increasing intimacy. Again he saw her lift the lantern 
 above her head and her short sleeve fall back, revealing 
 the white beauty of her arm ; again he saw her thrown 
 back in the carriage and caught a glimpse of her limbs, 
 or he pictured her at some dance. She was as lissom, 
 slender, he said to himself, as a willow wand, and when 
 you strip off the rough bark you have a most delicate, 
 smooth, shining whiteness beneath. His breath came 
 heavily ; he was all pulses, throbbing, his mouth parched. 
 Without conscious purpose he took off his boots and opened 
 
GREAT DAYS 135 
 
 his door. The dark. He closed his door behind him and 
 went softly up the stairs. At her door he stopped and 
 listened nothing. He could not knock. A long time he 
 stood, then he heard her turn restlessly ; she was in bed. 
 He gasped for breath and just touched the door no sound. 
 After waiting a little he tapped with one finger almost 
 noiselessly and waited again nothing. His heart sank. He 
 put up his hand to tap louder and the door was not there ; 
 it had opened noiselessly and then he distinguished the 
 white outline of her. He stepped inside and took her 
 in his arms. 
 
 " You must not," she breathed. 
 
 But he felt her warm, soft body through the nightdress, 
 and, gathering her in his strong, young arms, went to the 
 bed. 
 
 " No, no," she whispered ; but his lips were on hers, 
 and, with a long sigh, she gave herself to his embrace. 
 
 The days that followed were like mornings in mid- 
 summer the freshness of virgin feelings, the heat of 
 maturity. Strange to say, it was Suzanne who was most 
 changed ; she had no temper now, no sharp answers. Her 
 very being seemed dissolved in tenderness ; her eyes followed 
 Jack about in shy content. The colonel must have noticed 
 the change in her had time been given him. 
 
 But in the first blush of their happiness came a letter 
 from Jack's father telling him if he did not return soon he 
 would never see his mother alive. It was as if an earth- 
 quake had shaken him out of a delicious dream into harshest 
 reality sharpened by self-reproach. But the need for action 
 was on him, and he dismissed his self-accusations for the 
 
136 GREAT DAYS 
 
 moment. He must get away ; who would help him ? It 
 was curious that he first thought of the doctor. Sauvan 
 was so cool, so reasonable, that Jack exaggerated the value 
 of his counsel. He sought him out, but the doctor had no 
 sympathy to waste on others ; he felt that Jack's affection 
 and anxiety were extravagant ; mothers usually died first. 
 He recommended him to see the colonel ; the colonel 
 could help him if anyone could, for he knew Bonaparte, 
 and Bonaparte since his return from Egypt was all-powerful 
 in France. 
 
 Chilled and rebuffed by the doctor's coolness Jack made 
 up his mind to see Suzanne. He translated the letter to 
 her and found all the sympathy he desired. 
 
 " Uncle will write to Bonaparte," she said, " and he will 
 get your freedom ; you must go back." She grew white 
 with apprehension as she realised how completely they 
 would be separated, but she still held to her idea. 
 
 At once they sought out the colonel and laid it before 
 him. He declared that he would write to Bonaparte at 
 once, and that he felt sure of the result. And he wrote 
 to Bonaparte without more ado, praying him under the 
 circumstances to give Jack his exchange. 
 
 As the letter remained for a week unanswered Jack's 
 anxiety became painful. The colonel was as sympathetic 
 as possible ; he wrote to the authorities proposing to let 
 Jack go to London to negotiate an exchange with some 
 French officer whom the French authorities should select, 
 and if that was impossible he asked that he might be allowed 
 to free him, taking his parole that he would return in six 
 months if he could not make any exchange ; and when 
 this letter remained unanswered for a week or so, he put 
 
GREAT DAYS 137 
 
 a period to Jack's anguish by saying that if he did not 
 receive an answer in another week he would take the responsi- 
 bility on himself and let Jack go. Jack Immediately packed 
 and made ready, and Suzanne helped him. Often as they 
 put some things together her eyes would fill with tears, 
 and Jack would take her in his arms and kiss her and com- 
 fort her, and tell her how kind his mother had been to 
 him, how kind to everyone, how good she was ; and the 
 two youths would hold each other and kiss with wet eyes. 
 It was Suzanne's perfect sympathy in his distress which 
 won Jack completely. 
 
 Without telling Jack Suzanne went to her uncle and 
 begged him to let Jack go without further delay, per- 
 suaded him even to accompany Jack to Boulogne and put 
 him on a vessel for England ; and next morning the colonel 
 told Jack that he could go on his parole to return within 
 six months. 
 
 Jack had only time to see Suzanne for a moment. He 
 held her in his arms and promised that in all cases before 
 six months he would be back again. With wet eyes she 
 nodded that she was sure of it, and the two parted, 
 
BOOK II 
 
GREAT DAYS 141 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THEY took six or seven days to get to Boulogne, and 
 after the first day Jack found he could pass muster 
 as a Frenchman among uneducated people. He 
 was dressed more or less in French fashion, and his accent 
 in ordinary conversation was fairly good ; but when he 
 left the phrases of constant use his accent suffered with 
 his grammar. 
 
 At Boulogne Jack soon discovered in the port an English 
 smuggler who undertook for ten pounds to land him at 
 Dover. He was astonished to find on parting with Caressa 
 how he had come to like the warm-hearted little man. 
 The colonel embraced him on both cheeks and Jack hugged 
 the colonel just as heartily. 
 
 " I don't need to promise you," said Jack, " that I shall 
 be back within the six months," and the colonel nodded 
 contentedly. 
 
 Before Jack had been an hour on board the smuggler 
 he was thankful for the fair wind. 
 
 The cabin where they took their meals was dirty to a 
 degree, and alive with vermin. Jack was glad to get out 
 of it, and for the rest of the passage stood by the weather 
 bulwarks lost in his own thoughts and fears. 
 
 At Dover he got a carriole, and in two hours was rattling 
 over the rough Head. At a turn in the road, where the 
 
142 GREAT DAYS 
 
 lands of The Court began, he could see Hurstpoint Bay 
 and the village in the bight. Again he was struck with it 
 as with a little picture ; it was as immobile as a painted 
 village and bay. The quiet of it all, the peace, made an 
 extraordinary impression on him. ... He had left the 
 place a boy ; he was coming back as a man. Would the 
 people see how he had altered ? He would be naturally 
 the first man in the village, he thought ; he knew so much 
 more than the others did. Suddenly his vanity was hushed. 
 Was his mother very ill ? The apprehension grew on him. 
 
 When they came in front of the inn his heart was like 
 lead. As he jumped out of the carriole a little man came 
 to the door dressed all in black. The clothes made him 
 unfamiliar. Jack started. It was his father ; he seemed 
 to see him for the first time ; he looked an old man, must 
 be sixty, thought Jack ; sturdy still, and strong, but the 
 skin round the eyes was much wrinkled. He was noticeably 
 lame, too, and had grown a little stout, perhaps because of 
 the lameness. All these thoughts and a hundred more 
 rushed through his mind as he jumped out and took his 
 father's hand. 
 
 " Too late ; she was buried three days ago." 
 
 Jack's being seemed to stop : " Impossible ! " he cried. 
 He could not realise that his mother had gone out of his 
 life for ever ; it seemed unthinkable. 
 
 " A good wife," said his father with unwonted emotion, 
 " and a good mother, Jack." 
 
 Jack could not trust himself to answer, memories of all 
 her sweetness, amiability, and gentleness coming over him 
 in a flood. 
 
 In the parlour he listened to what his father had to tell 
 
GREAT DAYS 143 
 
 him of the last illness. He learned that she died quite 
 peacefully, composing herself to sleep by saying that per- 
 haps when she woke Jack would be there. " I know he's 
 coming," she had said again and again. 
 
 A little later his sister came in. Jack was astonished to 
 find her quite grown-up, rather pretty, and very affected 
 with all sorts of society mannerisms ; in fact, she had 
 become a new person whom Jack had to learn, and for some 
 time he found it difficult to accustom himself to the change. 
 
 With the love of learning which seems inborn in the 
 Celt, Morgan had sent his daughter to the best boarding- 
 school he could hear of in London, regardless of expense, 
 and the girl had returned home with all the prejudices, 
 beliefs, and habits of select society. 
 
 Her dress seemed to Jack indecent, though it was more 
 modest than the usual London fashion ; it was cut so as 
 to show the breasts, and Emily had a very pretty, fair skin. 
 She talked familiarly of " men of fashion " and of " Cecil " 
 in the same breath, so that Jack had a little difficulty in 
 picturing Cecil Barren in the new role. When questioned 
 about him she said he was " good style," with a patronising 
 air which Jack felt to be a little comic. 
 
 While he was talking to his sister his father went out 
 and brought in Nancy. She, too, had changed, had become 
 a sort of village beauty, rather full-blown, Jack thought. 
 She did not seem so merry as of old, though she could still 
 laugh, and her sauciness had a tinge of assurance that made 
 it almost boldness. Jack saw at a glance now that the 
 secret of her success was probably the ever-present sense 
 of sex in her. Men were men to Nancy, and she reminded 
 every one of them that she was a woman. 
 
144 GREAT DAYS 
 
 While his sister went up to change Jack went out into 
 the bar and kitchen, and was amazed to find how the 
 proportions of everything had altered. It was not only 
 that the rooms were smaller than he had thought them, 
 but they were quite different. He was struck by the low- 
 ness of the ceilings, which he had never noticed before ; 
 he could almost touch the rafters of the kitchen with his 
 hand. The stairs, which had seemed so broad to him, 
 were of hardly more than ordinary width. The space in 
 front of the bar was really made larger by part of the 
 passage which gave access immediately to the kitchen. He 
 had not pictured it in this way. It took him a day or 
 two to get accustomed to the new perspective. 
 
 He was in the bar one afternoon a week or so later talking 
 to Nancy when a big, showily-dressed fellow lounged in 
 with a great swagger, whom Jack recognised with a start 
 as Crosby. 
 
 " Hullo, Master Jack," he cried, " out of prison at last ? " 
 
 The air was patronising, contemptuous, but Jack did not 
 take offence. He contented himself with a nod and smile. 
 He wondered to himself afterwards why he was glad to see 
 Crosby, whom he had never liked. 
 
 " You look quite a Frenchman," Crosby went on, pointing 
 with his cane disdainfully at Jack's sword. 
 
 Jack said nothing. 
 
 " Have a drink ? " was Crosby's next question. 
 
 " No, thanks," replied Jack curtly, turning on his heel 
 and leaving the bar. Crosby exchanged a smiling glance 
 of intelligence with Nancy as he took off his hat and sat 
 down. In spite of something antagonistic and challenging 
 in Crosby's manner, Jack felt that he was intelligent looking, 
 
GREAT DAYS 145 
 
 the forehead broad and high, the eyes large and dark ; 
 besides, he was what men call a fine figure, though inclined 
 to be stout. 
 
 Jack met his sister in the hall dressed for a walk, in a 
 toque with three enormously high feathers like, fleurs-de-lis. 
 In a few minutes she had told him all he wanted to know. 
 Crosby, it seemed, had not done as well at Cambridge as 
 had been expected ; he was now by way of studying for 
 the Bar in London, but was content to spend a great part 
 of his time in the village and a good deal of it in the inn. 
 Clearly Emily did not think much of him. 
 
 " And Carrol ? " Jack asked. 
 
 " Carrol is quite different," she declared, " a gentleman. 
 Very nice, very religious ; in love with poetry and vest- 
 ments, and what he calls c plain song.' He often asks after 
 you," she added quietly. 
 
 Suddenly, as they walked down the street, they came 
 in view of the little port. 
 
 " That's the Dolphin, surely ? " cried Jack. 
 
 " I suppose so," said his sister indifferently. 
 
 " What about Riding and Knight ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " Oh, they came back," said his sister ; " father told you 
 all about that in his second letter." 
 
 " I never received it," cried Jack. " I must go and see 
 Riding." 
 
 His sister let him go alone ; she did not care, she said, 
 a little daintily, for the port, though she sometimes went 
 to see Mrs. Riding, who was " a superior person." 
 
 As Jack went down the hill he grinned to himself. Mrs. 
 Riding " a person," Carrol " a gentleman," Cecil " a man 
 of high fashion." The London school had turned his 
 
 L 
 
146 GREAT DAYS 
 
 sister into a snob filled to the mouth with " nice distinc- 
 tions." This unreal hierarchy and its claims struck him 
 with contempt. In a short time he was to recognise this 
 atmosphere on all sides of him as the English note, a false 
 standard of values guarded religiously. Surprised by it 
 here for the first time, he shrugged his shoulders disdain- 
 fully, and went on the more eagerly to see Riding. 
 
 For a moment or two he hailed the Dolphin in vain, then 
 a man came up on deck and at once pulled up the little 
 dinghy and rowed her ashore ; it was Riding himself. 
 
 Jack was astonished at the warmth he threw into his 
 greeting ; he was delighted to shake hands with him, eager 
 to find whether his old kindly estimate of him was justified. 
 
 " How did you escape ? " he cried, and Riding laughed : 
 "Ho! Ho! Ho!" 
 
 Jack smiled at the familiar shout. 
 
 " The French were very kind, but I thought it better to 
 swim," said Riding, " than be taken on board the frigate." 
 
 " And Knight ? " cried Jack. 
 
 " Oh, Knight came, too ; he swims like an eel. I don't 
 believe I'd ever have landed if it hadn't been for him. I 
 was tired out, and he helped me on shore ; then I talked and 
 he kept quiet, and with that money of yours which I found 
 in the cabin we got along famously. Ho ! Ho ! Ho ! " he 
 laughed again. 
 
 " Why do you laugh ? " asked Jack, somewhat intrigued. 
 
 " I was laughing," replied Riding, " because in the little 
 village where we got the fishing-smack to come across the man 
 was in great doubt whether to give us up to the authorities 
 or to land us on the English coast. But when I made it 
 clear to him that he would get a thousand francs in gold 
 
GREAT DAYS 147 
 
 his greed overcame his patriotism. I laughed at the 
 thought of his face when he was considering whether he 
 couldn't get the money and give us up as well." 
 
 " And Chips and Newton ? " cried Jack. 
 
 " Chips has started that building yard of his," said Riding, 
 " he's doing very well ; and Newton is out with the Mary. 
 We captured a little French ship a couple of months ago and 
 got a bit of money out of it. Your father gives us a quarter 
 now of the profits ; makes us keen. Ho ! Ho ! Ho ! Ho ! " 
 and Riding roared again. 
 
 What is Newton like ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " A good man," cried Riding, " a very fine fellow, and 
 first-rate sailor." 
 
 " And Knight ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " My second self," replied Riding ; " after that swim 
 I can't part from him. He's a great glutton and has no 
 conscience, but he's a born fighter a sort of wolf-man. 
 Ho ! Ho ! Ho ! " and again he roared. 
 
 The great laugh no longer annoyed Jack as of old. He 
 began to see that it was partly nervous, partly the trumpet, 
 so to speak, of a keen sense of humour. Besides, Riding's 
 characterisation of Knight was astonishingly true : Jack, too, 
 had caught the wolf-look in Knight's lean, pointed face, 
 prominent great ears, and quick, hot eyes. 
 
 In his turn Riding wanted to know about Gosport, 
 Weetman, and the rest, and Jack told him very summarily 
 all about the French prison, and how well he had been taken 
 care of, and what friends he had made there. He saw at 
 once that Riding understood everything. He noticed, too, 
 for the first time, that Riding was good looking, with broad 
 forehead, long, fair moustache and regular features ; the 
 
148 GREAT DAYS 
 
 thoughtful eyes alone would have made any face attractive. 
 A certain natural kindliness seemed to emanate from the 
 man. It was with warmer heart through having met him 
 that Jack took his way again to the inn. 
 
 When he got back he found his sister talking to a very 
 handsome man of just over middle height, dressed foppishly 
 in the extreme of fashion. Jack was rather touched to find 
 that Cecil Barron, for it was he, met him with a great deal 
 of friendliness in spite of a marked affectation. 
 
 " My dear fellow," he said, " so glad to meet you. Your 
 sister tells me you have had all sorts of adventures, and have 
 managed to get out of a French prison by giving your 
 parole d'bonneur to return or find an exchange. Very good 
 style of them, I must say." 
 
 Jack smiled. He knew now where his sister had got her 
 love of " good style " from. 
 
 " You must come up to The Court and tell us all about it," 
 Barron continued condescendingly ; " we've only Nugent 
 and Selwyn staying with us, and your old antagonist, Myring, 
 comes across now and then. Would you bring your sister 
 and come to-morrow to dinner ? " 
 
 " It's very kind of you," replied Jack, hesitating to accept 
 what he felt was thought to be a great favour. 
 
 Cecil turned to Emily, who said : " We should like to 
 very much ; it's very good of you." She seemed to under- 
 line the words with her glance. 
 
 Jack noticed with interest that she had fine eyes and was 
 really pretty, and Cecil seemed to think so, too. 
 
 Somehow or other Jack felt that the flirtation between the 
 pair had gone a good way, and this made him curious. Had 
 Cecil Barron lost any of his old pride ? Would he really 
 
GREAT DAYS 149 
 
 marry Emily ? Remembering hints his father had let drop 
 he began to think that he might do worse ; Emily was very 
 pretty, but vainglorious pride is apt to be stubborn. 
 
 As Cecil had to get back Emily and Jack went with him 
 to the nearest lodge and there took leave, strolling back 
 together. Jack tried to pump his sister, but could get 
 nothing out of her. Sir George Barron was very feeble, 
 he learned, but Lady Barron still reigned at The Court. 
 
 " What is the girl like ? " he asked at length. 
 
 " Margaret," Emily said, " is very peculiar ; I don't 
 think her pretty. She's standoffish. You must judge for 
 yourself. She's eager to meet you, I think, but she's about 
 a great deal with Selwyn." 
 
 Jack could get nothing more out of her. He wondered 
 that night whether there was anything more to get. 
 
 His thoughts ranged over all the different personalities. 
 He was struck most perhaps by Riding's sense and manliness 
 and by the high-flown affectations of his sister and Cecil 
 Barron. What would The Court be like, he wondered ? and 
 his thoughts wandered back to his boyhood when it was such 
 a great, distant place ; thence to Suzanne and the old colonel 
 and Sauvan the philosopher. He was astonished to find 
 that the little colonel and Suzanne were as near and dear to 
 him as his own people, with the exception of his father ; 
 they were as natural, as human, as lovable . . . 
 
150 GREAT DAYS 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 AS the next day happened to be fine Emily thought 
 they might as well walk to The Court. She made 
 Jack revise his dress ; she insisted on his putting 
 on a great cravat, which she wound round his neck many 
 times and tied for him in the mode of London. Jack 
 laughed, but met her views as far as he could, conscious the 
 while that the rude vigour of his square form and resolute, 
 energetic face was not suited by finicking fashions. 
 
 " Why didn't Barren ask father I " enquired Jack, as 
 they came to the lodge. 
 
 " Oh, father would be quite out of place at The Court," 
 Emily declared, flushing ; " it is one of the county seats. 
 It was very good of Cecil to ask us, and we simply cannot 
 drag father about with us everywhere." 
 
 " I don't see why not," replied Jack sturdily ; " he's got 
 ten times as much in him as Cecil Barren or his father, and 
 he's made money while they have lost it." 
 
 " Money doesn't count with rank," she said contempt- 
 uously ; " but do come on or we shall be late." 
 
 The grounds of The Court were more beautiful than Jack 
 had imagined : the park was fairly large, five or six hundred 
 acres, and the house itself, though not stately or beautiful, 
 had an air about it of dignity and comfort ; a Queen Anne 
 house, it took its place fittingly among the old trees and broad 
 
GREAT DAYS 151 
 
 green lawns decked with flower-beds and herbaceous borders. 
 The Court was well kept up ; three or four men-servants 
 in livery, the Barron livery of blue with yellow lacings. 
 Jack was astonished to find that the quiet deference and 
 courteous formalities made a pleasant impression on 
 him. 
 
 In the drawing-room Cecil greeted them with warmth, and 
 introduced Jack to Lady Barron, a very large, matronly 
 person, bright-eyed and fresh-looking in spite of her grey 
 hair. Sir George Barron, it seemed, was ailing and could not 
 come down. 
 
 Jack was introduced, too, to Colonel Nugent, a man of 
 about forty, whom he remembered just as little as he did 
 Lady Barron ; and then to a Mr. Ivor Selwyn, another 
 exquisite, dressed as elaborately as Cecil. Selwyn looked 
 at him with hard brown eyes, and just nodded to the intro- 
 duction superciliously, without attempting to give his hand. 
 Cecil explained to his mother that Jack had just been let out 
 of a French prison on parole. 
 
 Everyone seemed surprised to find Frenchmen showing 
 such humanity. As Jack was about to defend the French 
 the talk was suspended by the entrance of Margaret Barron. 
 She shook hands with Colonel Nugent and with Selwyn, 
 and then moved to Jack and held out her hand. 
 
 " It's the second or third time we've met," she said 
 simply. " I remember you perfectly." 
 
 At the first moment Jack only saw that she was tall, with 
 keen eyes and abrupt manner. 
 
 " You've been in prison in France, haven't you ? " she 
 went on in a staccato way, while flushing slightly as if 
 embarrassed by her own curiosity. 
 
152 GREAT DAYS 
 
 Jack bowed assent ; it was only her questioning blue eyes 
 he could remember. 
 
 " Interesting it must have been," she jerked out. 
 
 Her carriage and face showed pride and resolution, while 
 her manner and way of speaking, Jack thought, had a re- 
 strained eagerness which he could not explain. He con- 
 tented himself with answering : 
 
 " Very interesting." 
 
 " Oh, you know what I mean," she said impatiently, 
 evidently realising that he had not understood her exact 
 meaning ; " not only the people different, but the circum- 
 stances the Revolution, the cruelties, the war everything. 
 Such a lot to see and understand, wasn't there ? " She spoke 
 hurriedly. 
 
 " A lot, indeed," replied Jack, smiling, for the unaffected 
 interest of the girl was taking ; " too much to understand 
 at once ; one needs time to assimilate new experiences." 
 
 She nodded quickly, with intent eyes. " Lucky you," 
 she cried enviously. 
 
 At this moment Mr. Selwyn sauntered over to them. 
 " Why lucky ? " he asked disdainfully. 
 
 " To have the chance of seeing new people and life and 
 adventures, and everything," the girl snorted, her words 
 tumbling over each other, while her thick brows drew to- 
 gether as if in anger or embarrassment at her own excite- 
 ment. 
 
 Tremendously in earnest and full of life Jack thought 
 her, and his eyes strayed over her figure ; it was superb, he 
 felt, with a quickening thrill. 
 
 " This is good enough for me," said Selwyn languidly, 
 waving a white hand towards the end of the room, where 
 
GREAT DAYS 153 
 
 the footmen had just thrown open double doors, disclosing 
 the dining-room and table with its white napery and silver, 
 
 Margaret shrugged her shoulders contemptuously and 
 walked towards the table. Following her Jack could not 
 help studying her shape. Surely, he thought, no one ever 
 looked so queenly and moved with such supple grace. The 
 impression of stateliness, he decided, was given by her height 
 and carriage and the fact that her shoulders seemed broader 
 than her hips and so threw her dress in long, austere lines 
 to the ground. The suggestion of suppleness was harder 
 to trace ; it came from swift movements that were always 
 flowing and graceful. An intoxicating sex-attraction seemed 
 to emanate from her. 
 
 The conversation at table was conventional, easy, but not 
 without flashes showing a certain knowledge of men and 
 affairs, broidery, so to speak, on a curious neutral tint a 
 tolerant acceptance of selfishness as the only possible motive 
 of conduct. The talk turned mainly on France, and soon 
 the English dislike of French ideas fastened on Jack as an 
 enemy. 
 
 " How did they come to let you out ? " asked Colonel 
 Nugent. 
 
 " I told the governor my mother was ill," replied Jack, 
 " and he let me go to negotiate an exchange or else to 
 return." 
 
 " An astonishing jailer," remarked Selwyn, with the 
 suspicion of a sneer ; " a pity he wasn't at the Conciergerie 
 to be as kind to some of the ladies who were murdered." 
 
 " Jack was lucky to get away," said Cecil sententiously ; 
 " but an exchange '11 be difficult. Our Government won't 
 treat with those revolutionary villains." 
 
154 GREAT DAYS 
 
 "Wretches," echoed Miss Emily, with a little ladylike 
 shudder as of horror. 
 
 Jack was on the point of remonstrating when he caught 
 Margaret Barren looking at him intently ; her lips were 
 parted, her eyes had in them a breathless expectancy which 
 set him wondering. What did the strange girl expect him 
 to say ? It was foolish, he felt, to dispute with such com- 
 placent prejudice as all the others showed. He preferred 
 to keep silence. 
 
 Selwyn still directed the talk. " Bonaparte, I hear, wants 
 to make peace," he said, " but Pitt naturally demands serious 
 guarantees." 
 
 Jack noticed that Selwyn pronounced the Italianate name 
 with emphasised correctness, and seemed to take it for 
 granted that Pitt was superior to Bonaparte, and the master 
 of the situation, 
 
 " I hope Pitt won't make peace unless the royal line is 
 restored," remarked Lady Barron. 
 
 " That, of course, must be a condition precedent," 
 Selwyn hastened to add emphatically. 
 
 " I'm afraid in that case," remarked Jack, " the war '11 
 go on for a long time." 
 
 " Perhaps you imbibed republican notions in prison," 
 suggested Selwyn. " You were there a long time, weren't 
 you ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Jack, " but it's hardly a question of my 
 notions ; the vast majority of the French are convinced 
 republicans." 
 
 " Oh, the majority," cried Selwyn, holding up his hands, 
 " the majority have no notions even. The few greedy 
 agitators and regicides are, of course, republicans, but 
 
GREAT DAYS 155 
 
 France must come sooner or later to its senses and return to 
 its ancient loyalty." 
 
 Jack looked at him in astonishment ; such ignorance 
 seemed to him inconceivable. But Selwyn's opinion was 
 evidently received with general favour. 
 
 Suddenly Miss Barron broke away from the rest. " You 
 don't think France will put the Bourbons again on the 
 throne ? " she asked, with quick interest in voice and manner. 
 
 " Indeed, I do not," replied Jack, and then the whole 
 pitiable unreality of the talk flooded over him, and he 
 responded frankly to the question in her eyes. 
 
 " I wonder if I could make it plain to you," he began. 
 " Two things I saw in Bordeaux might," and without more 
 ado he told of the starving people in front of the Hotel de 
 Ville, and of the hungry children who had followed him about 
 the streets. 
 
 " Do you wonder," he exclaimed, " that the people are 
 sick of the rulers and ruling classes who have brought them 
 to such misery ? All through France mothers still their 
 children by threatening to take them to the Chateau or 
 great house ; and the name for squire throughout the 
 country is hobereau, as who should say Squire Kite. The 
 revolt was inevitable ; the only wonder is it didn't come 
 long before, and go much further," he added significantly. 
 
 His passionate speech had an intense effect on Margaret ; 
 she was interested as she never had been interested in her 
 life. The incidents in Bordeaux thrilled her, and as the 
 vivid words came her imagination outran them. This was 
 what she had divined and hoped but never heard. She 
 could scarcely breathe for excitement. 
 
 " But what good can it do ? " asked Selwyn. " After all, 
 
156 GREAT DAYS 
 
 you ^on't feed hungry people by murdering the nobles and 
 gentry, their natural leaders ! " 
 
 " The people were robbed and enslaved and brutalised 
 by the nobles and their exactions," cried Jack ; " now that 
 they've shaken off their tyrants and taxes, they'll soon get 
 a decent living ; they're industrious and saving. Hunger 
 is a dreadful thing," he added ; " till you see a starving 
 crowd, you don't realise the horror of it." After a pause 
 he went on : " Revolt's a duty when the rule's bad. We're 
 all inclined to endure the accustomed too long, and to let 
 the old conventions almost stifle us before we rebel." 
 
 " How true," cried Margaret, leaning forward in uncon- 
 trollable excitement ; " how often I've felt that. We let 
 customs fetter us, and duties, and affections, and oh I- 
 everything oh ! " 
 
 The effect of Margaret's outburst on the company was 
 prodigious ; they were all taken aback by her passionate 
 vehemence. 
 
 " Margaret, Margaret," warned her mother ; but the 
 girl would not be controlled. 
 
 " It's true, mother, true," she cried, " revolt is a duty, 
 and," she added slowly, " the first duty." She stopped 
 abruptly as if she had announced an irrevocable decision. 
 
 Colonel Nugent and the others hurried to make talk 
 and give the girl's overwrought feelings time to settle into 
 ordinary channels. Meanwhile, Margaret sat striving for 
 self-control, incapable of speech. 
 
 For the last five or six years, owing to Sir George Barren's 
 ill-health, Margaret had hardly left The Court for a day ; 
 the Barrens saw scarcely any company, and the seclusion 
 and sameness of her life had filled the high-spirited girl with 
 
GREAT DAYS 157 
 
 a wild longing for freedom and change. She was intellect- 
 ually curious and eager to know all about life, and so was 
 driven to spend the long hours of leisure in the library, where 
 she had learned much the same lesson of revolt, and of pride 
 in her own abilities, which Jack had won from mixing with 
 men. Again and again she had been on the point of rebel- 
 ling ; had she known how to cut adrift she would have done 
 it, but she could not leave her mother or change her opinions. 
 Yet the revolt Jack preached and the freedom he pictured 
 were what she had ached for ; she could not help admiring 
 him. His bold views took her by storm ; the passion in his 
 voice thrilled her with kinship of soul. The bodily attrac- 
 tion, too, though less imperious to her, came into account. 
 Jack's energy and originality delighted her, the recklessness 
 in him, and the force. 
 
 On the others the effect of Jack's talk was very different. 
 The pictures of human suffering had passed before them 
 without arousing sympathy. They had not sufficient 
 imagination to be moved. Bit by bit the conversation 
 drifted back into the channel of absorbing interest : " What 
 will the French do next ? " " Can a realm like France go 
 on without a king ? " Selwyn and the rest could not 
 believe in the stability of such a rule ; but Jack again 
 dominated the cynical view with a passionate eulogy of 
 Bonaparte. 
 
 " He's not only a great general," he concluded, " but 
 a great administrator, too. All eyes are turning to him in 
 hope," he added. 
 
 Everyone felt embarrassed ; Bonaparte to them was a 
 sort of ogre. They were all relieved by Selwyn's 
 sneer : 
 
158 GREAT DAYS 
 
 "Is Bonaparte great because he abandoned his army in 
 Egypt to defeat ? " 
 
 Jack shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " The Nile victory," cried Nugent, " has made us the 
 masters. The French fleet is wiped out ; they must sue 
 for peace." 
 
 " Our victories at sea," replied Jack, " hardly counter- 
 balance the French victories on land." 
 
 " Perhaps Mr. Morgan regrets the victory of the Nile," 
 Selwyn interjected ; " he seems to sympathise as deeply 
 with the French as our eloquent representative of West- 
 minster who has gone into seclusion rather than share in his 
 country's triumph." 
 
 " I regret the war," said Jack. " I can't see why we 
 should fight the French to put a king on the throne that 
 they don't want ; we should resent their interfering with 
 us in such a matter." 
 
 " But surely you see," said Colonel Nugent, " that a 
 republic cannot endure ; no country can be happy without 
 a king and constitution." 
 
 " Even a bad king," remarked Lady Barren quietly, 
 " is better than none at all," which seemed to sum the matter 
 up definitively. 
 
 After lunch Lady Barron went up to Sir George, and the 
 younger people strolled out into the garden. Before Cecil 
 and Emily paired off, Margaret Barron in her abrupt way 
 came over to Jack. 
 
 " I'm glad we've met," she cried. " Won't you tell me 
 about France ? It is all so interesting. You are certainly 
 right ; we shouldn't let the French choose our Government 
 for us, and yet we want to do that for them. But surely 
 
GREAT DAYS 159 
 
 all the murderings in Paris and all that burning of castles 
 throughout the country was cruel ? " 
 
 " The madness of the revenge," Jack replied, " only 
 showed the intensity of their suffering. You have no idea 
 of their misery." 
 
 She nodded, her eyes drinking in his words. " You don't 
 think them more cruel, more vile, than other nations ? " she 
 persisted, as if determined to root out her prejudice. 
 
 " I found them courteous and kindly," he replied ; " a 
 little quick-tempered, but without malice." 
 
 Again the intent eyes held him, and Jack felt now that 
 there was subtle sympathy between them, and intimate 
 understanding. 
 
 " And Bonaparte ? " she asked, " have you ever seen 
 him ? " 
 
 " Never," said Jack, wondering at his own excited interest ; 
 " but the governor of the jail where I was, was a hot partisan 
 of his, and I have had great talks with him. Bonaparte must 
 be an extraordinary man." 
 
 " So Mr. Fox thinks," she replied thoughtfully, and then, 
 as if to warn Jack, she added : " But Mr. Fox is not liked 
 in England ; you will find it difficult to speak for the French 
 here. They will dislike you, too, if you do ? " she put it like 
 a question. 
 
 Jack shrugged his shoulders with the hardihood of youth- 
 ful inexperience. 
 
 " Let them," he said. " I don't care." 
 
 Her eyes glowed in sympathy. 
 
 At this moment Selwyn separated himself from Nugent 
 and moved across to them. 
 
 " Has Mr. Morgan explained to you why he loves the 
 
160 GREAT DAYS 
 
 French so dearly ? " he said with smiling superiority to Miss 
 Barron. 
 
 " He's given me a great deal to think about," she replied, 
 scanning him coolly ; " food for thought and feeling, and 
 much encouragement ; every nation, it seems, has merits of 
 its own." 
 
 " It would need a microscope," rejoined Selwyn, " to 
 discover the French virtues. Has any good thing ever come 
 out of France ? " 
 
 The interest Margaret had shown him had taken away 
 some of the antagonism in Jack which Selwyn's opposition 
 had aroused, but the sneer excited him. 
 
 " Dozens of things," he cried ; " even their battlesong, 
 the * Marseillaise,' is sung by their enemies." 
 
 " A battle-song is hardly a good thing," Selwyn decided, 
 lifting his eyebrows. " Mention one good thing, will 
 you ? " 
 
 " Napkins at table," remarked Jack, without thinking 
 that his words might be taken to convey a certain reflection 
 on his hostess. 
 
 " Napkins ? " queried Selwyn. " What may they be ? " 
 
 " Small hand cloths," replied Jack, " used at table to wipe 
 the mouth and hands." 
 
 Selwyn laughed. " We wash our hands, you see, in 
 England, and have no need of napkins." 
 
 " What's that ? " cried Colonel Nugent. " What are 
 you laughing at ? " 
 
 " Mr. Morgan thinks we should have hand cloths at table," 
 said Selwyn, " to wipe our hands, as the French have. I told 
 him^we were somewhat particular about clean hands and 
 so have no need of napkins." 
 
GREAT DAYS 161 
 
 Nugent threw his head up as if the idea were too pre- 
 posterous even to talk about. 
 
 " All these new-fangled, dirty ideas," he said, " make me 
 angry ; I don't even want to hear of them." 
 
 There was hardly any more general conversation ; Selwyn 
 and Nugent took possession of Miss Barron by walking on 
 each side of her, and though she flashed friendly looks at 
 Jack, and tried again and again to bring him into the 
 conversation, he soon fell out, feeling ostracised and disliked. 
 
 It was characteristic of the youth that he began asking 
 himself at once whether the coldness shown him was due 
 to any fault of his ; he might have been more conciliatory, 
 he said to himself, but 
 
 The conviction slowly grew in him that the others were 
 mistaken, that time would show he was right ; that some day 
 or other even the English gentry might find out that the 
 use of napkins at meals was not a proof of dirty habits. 
 
 He went home with only one thought in him, and only 
 one emotion : when should he see Margaret again ? Did 
 she like him ? He felt her intent eyes on him, felt that she 
 understood and sympathised with the new ideas in him, the 
 new forces of endeavour and growth. . . . 
 
 His sister told him only what he could see for himself 
 that Selwyn was courting her ; " very assiduous," she said 
 with detached indifference, not appearing to notice Jack's 
 interest. 
 
 M 
 
162 GREAT DAYS 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 A DAY or two afterwards his sister told him that young 
 Carrol had come down from Oxford, and on the 
 same afternoon he met him in the street. Carrol 
 seemed a little shy at first, but the warmth of Jack's greeting 
 gradually thawed him out, and the two soon started for one 
 of their old walks over the Head. 
 
 Fifty yards further on they met Dr. Crosby face to face. 
 He greeted Carrol in his big, boisterous way with a good deal 
 of approval. 
 
 " Good reports of you from Oxford," he exclaimed. 
 " A second class is not to be despised. I can assure you I 
 was pleased, very pleased indeed ; but I'm sorry to hear all 
 this about you, Morgan," he said, turning to Jack ; " they 
 tell me you've become a red republican, and I don't know 
 what all besides." 
 
 Jack smiled and shook his head, but the doctor would not 
 be interrupted. 
 
 " I couldn't believe," he went on pompously, " that any 
 scholar of mine would defend revolutionary and atheistic 
 ideas ; for you can take it from me that all revolutionary 
 ideas are atheistic. The whole Revolution has come from 
 that school of French materialists like Holbach and Diderot, 
 and that sentimental dog of a Rousseau whom we used to 
 hear so much about twenty odd years ago." 
 
GREAT DAYS 163 
 
 Jack looked at him curiously ; the doctor was evidently 
 in earnest, spluttering indeed with indignation. But Jack 
 had been taking himself to task too recently for speaking his 
 mind to fall into the same fault again at once. 
 
 " I don't think, sir, I'm likely to become a revolutionary," 
 he remarked lightly, smiling the while. 
 
 " Glad to hear it, glad to hear it," cried the big man, 
 " but take care. The French are going headlong to per- 
 dition, sir, headlong," and he pursed out his lips, " and and 
 
 evil communications you know " and he continued 
 
 oil his way, shaking his head, but well satisfied with what he 
 considered convincing arguments well put. 
 
 " What does it all mean ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " I don't know," Carrol replied, " but I hadn't been back 
 an hour when I heard that you were a terrible person. They 
 said you had taken the Barrens to task because they had no 
 hand cloths at lunch, which you said everybody needed to 
 wipe dirty hands and mouths." 
 
 Jack laughed outright ; it was his first meeting with Dame 
 Rumour, and her gift for fiction annoyed him ; but he had 
 really liked Carrol, and therefore left the subject. He wanted 
 to find out all he could about Oxford and his ambitions. 
 Carrol confessed himself rather hesitatingly ; he had gone 
 in for the Church, he said, because his father wished him to, 
 but he was glad of it now, for really the English Church had 
 begun to interest him intensely ; noble services, touching 
 ceremonial, the words and music of its offices alike beautiful. 
 
 Jack wanted to hear more, but as soon as he probed 
 beneath the surface Carrol drew into himself like a snail 
 when the antennae are touched. 
 
 " You really believe in God ? " asked Jack. 
 
164 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " Of course," said Carrol, opening wide eyes of astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 " And in a life after death for this body of ours ? " 
 
 " Of course," gasped Carrol again ; " you do, too, don't 
 you ? " he asked in a horrified voice. 
 
 " I suppose I do," replied Jack hesitatingly, " but it all 
 seems far away, vague and unreal." 
 
 " Not to me," said Carrol simply. " I live with that faith 
 and want to live in it more and more ; it is the thought of 
 the next life that makes it possible to live this one." 
 
 For the first time Jack felt something visionary in his pale 
 blue eyes ; this Carrol was new to him. The boy Carrol, he 
 felt, had given no hint of the man at all; he wondered whether 
 the impulsive, quick-feeling boy whom he had known had 
 disappeared altogether. He questioned further, but Carrol 
 had been shocked a little and would only answer in mono- 
 syllables. The talk became perfunctory. . . . 
 
 When Jack got back to the inn he found Riding closeted 
 with his father ; he was for leaving them alone, but his 
 father called to him to come in ; there was nothing he might 
 not hear, they were only talking over the results of the year's 
 work. 
 
 Riding had had a successful time, it appeared, and had 
 put a couple of thousand pounds more into Morgan's 
 savings. The old man therefore thought him capable of 
 anything. 
 
 Jack was full of indignation at the lies that had been 
 told about him. When he related what had been said about 
 the napkins Riding roared with laughter. 
 
 " I've heard, too," he cried, " that you have a red cap 
 and revolutionary followers in the smacks. Come for a 
 
GREAT DAYS 165 
 
 cruise with us," he broke off, rising, " and all that will be 
 blown away. But you'll have to wait now till I come back 
 from London." 
 
 " Just see," said Jack, " if there's any chance of getting 
 me exchanged for some French officer, will you ? " 
 
 " Pll do my best," replied Riding, " but I'm afraid you'll 
 have to find a better ambassador." 
 
 Jack was vaguely disquieted, but as he had still months 
 before him he put off thinking of the matter for the 
 time. 
 
 After Riding had gone Jack probed his father. He 
 wanted to find out the old man's real opinions ; had he 
 thought at all on abstract things ? 
 
 " Should one say what one thinks ? " he asked, his argu- 
 ment with Selwyn still in his mind ; and forthwith he 
 discovered in his father a curious philosophy of life. 
 
 " When I was young," said his father, " I used to want 
 to quarrel with everyone who thought differently from me, 
 but by the time I came to the inn I had seen the folly of it, 
 and had made up my mind to have no opinions, or rather to 
 keep them to myself. Let all men talk as they like, said I, 
 I'll do as I like. As long as they don't quarrel with my deeds 
 I won't quarrel with their words. I've always found it a 
 good plan," he went on. " Men will help you to make 
 money if you'll only listen to them and smile when they're 
 talking nonsense. There's nothing a man hates so much as 
 to be contradicted and argued with ; he'd liefer be robbed 
 than converted. . . . Always be a true-blue Englishman," 
 he added, imitating Dr. Crosby's very roar. " Patriotism 
 is the cheapest way to popularity." 
 
 Jack stared at him ; he seemed to see for the first time 
 
1 66 GREAT DAYS 
 
 the twinkle in the little grey eyes. His father was very 
 clever ; he probably owed his success to his cunning. 
 
 The old man was much more about the house than he had 
 been before he got lame, and Jack had already noticed that 
 he was still keeping up the old intrigue with Nancy ; once 
 or twice, indeed, Jack felt sure he saw him touch Nancy as 
 she passed by. He was certain that there was an under- 
 standing between them. But after all, what did it matter ? 
 His father had a right to do what he liked. 
 
 Jack did not feel quite the same in regard to Nancy. He 
 had taken to avoiding the bar because Crosby was con- 
 tinually there. But one day passing through the yard he 
 looked in at the back door and almost caught Crosby kissing 
 Nancy. She had seen Jack and drawn away, but Crosby's 
 hand was certainly on her neck and her face was flushed. 
 Jack felt indignant with her, but he would not have her 
 think he was spying on her, and so he kept away from the 
 inn as much as possible. 
 
 This determination drove him to spend most of his 
 leisure with the seamen in the little harbour. Riding 
 returned from London without having brought about an 
 exchange ; he could not even get speech with the authorities. 
 But he seemed to accept rebuffs without bearing any malice. 
 
 Jack had long talks with him and found him extraordinarily 
 fair-minded, in spite of a scanty education. It was Riding 
 who brought him round to Chips' yard. Chips was a little 
 man, even smaller than Jack's father, with a funny little face 
 framed in cocoanut-red hair and beard, but he had noticeably 
 good grey eyes. Chips made up to Jack at once, told him he 
 ought to give him a commission to make a brig that no 
 Frenchman could catch. 
 
GREAT DAYS 167 
 
 " You want a clean pair of heels," said Chips. " You 
 should be able to fight when you like and run away when 
 you like. The little Dolphin could do it pretty well, but if 
 your brig had had proper lines she'd have run rings round 
 that French frigate." 
 
 Jack thought he might do worse some day or other than 
 entrust Chips with the building of a clipper, for the little 
 shipwright knew his trade. 
 
 Even here at the port Jack could not get rid of Crosby. 
 One evening, coming up from the Dolphin, he saw him 
 turning away from a girl. When he came abreast of her 
 he could not help looking at her rather curiously ; she 
 smiled at him and nodded pleasantly. Jack went over to 
 her ; it was Knight's sister, Gretta. 
 
 " Why, Gretta," he said, " what are you doing here ? " 
 
 " I came down to see my brother," she said, " and met 
 Mr. Crosby by chance." 
 
 In the course of talk she told him that she was married 
 to a farm labourer and could not make both ends meet on 
 the seven shillings a week of his wages. 
 
 " I have to give mother something," she said. " I come 
 down here to get some fish cheap ; it's hard for us poor to 
 live." 
 
 " But why did you marry a poor man ? " Jack asked 
 heedlessly. 
 
 " Who else was there to marry in this hole ? " she retorted 
 quickly. " If there had been anybody better you may be 
 sure I'd not have chosen poverty. . . ." 
 
 There was something obsequious, carneying, in her 
 manner which Jack did not like. He gave her a sovereign, 
 and she was profuse in thanks. 
 
i68 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " I wouldn't see much of Crosby, if I were you," he said 
 finally. " He'll do you no good." 
 
 " I never see Mr. Crosby," she hastened to answer. " I 
 met him here by chance as I was waiting for my brother. I 
 had to speak to the gentleman when he spoke to me." 
 
 From the way she answered Jack felt that her very soul 
 was servile ; misery had had its way with her, though by 
 nature she was self-reliant. Seven shillings a week ! How 
 could anyone maintain character or decency on such 
 starvation wage ? 
 
 The port quickly became as tiresome to Jack as the inn, 
 and he was soon ready to accept his sister's suggestion that 
 they ought at least to call at The Court. He went there 
 with her one afternoon and fell into the midst of a large 
 company. Some country people had driven across in a 
 great family coach all gilt and glass, suspended on leathern 
 springs an immense affair drawn by four horses with 
 plumes. There were servants in various liveries in the 
 hall, and the drawing-room was crowded. Jack felt 
 altogether out of place in the fashionably-dressed throng. 
 Some of the visitors, he thought, eyed him askance. 
 
 After listening for ten minutes to the medley of voices 
 he began trying to convey to Emily his desire to get away. 
 
 Miss Barron seized the opportunity to come across to him 
 for a moment. 
 
 " So you've met Mr. Carrol," she said gaily. " What do 
 you think of him ? " 
 
 Jack could not help seeing that she was at her best ; the 
 little excitement of receiving had brought colour to her 
 cheeks and made her vibrant ; her height and carriage gave 
 her distinction. He noticed strands of gold in her hair, 
 
GREAT DAYS 169 
 
 and her blue eyes seemed darker ; she was more than 
 pretty, and her figure wonderful. 
 
 " He was interesting." Jack hesitated. 
 
 Her eyes widened with amusement. " You found him 
 weak, ineffectual ? " she smiled. " Not one of the con- 
 querors in life eh ? " 
 
 " A little vague and credulous," Jack admitted. 
 
 " Sincere though," she said gravely, with inscrutable 
 eyes. " Why don't you come here oftener ? " she added, 
 probing him. 
 
 " I seem like an intruder," he confessed. " My very 
 clothes are different." 
 
 " What does that matter ? " she cried. " I feel I can 
 learn things from you ; you've seen and done things. I'm 
 full of curiosity and so ignorant." 
 
 There could be no mistaking her earnestness and sincerity. 
 
 " Do come, there's so much I want to know, heaps of 
 things. Do come ! " 
 
 " I will," he replied simply, " but my mental clothes are 
 just as bad ; they're out of fashion, too, and probably 
 offensive." 
 
 " Then you must be either mad or wise," she declared, 
 laughing. " But come some afternoon soon and we'll 
 discuss it. Promise ? " 
 
 Jack could not but bow to the request that was half a 
 challenge. 
 
 The next moment she was taken away by a brother and 
 sister who wanted her opinion on the best form of side- 
 saddle. Was the new-fangled idea of a second horn a help 
 or not ? 
 
 As she went she threw over her shoulder to Jack : " We've 
 
170 GREAT DAYS 
 
 done nothing but talk of napkins ever since you told us 
 about them. Pm having some made." 
 
 Jack was warmed and softened by her friendliness, and 
 more than a little astonished by her insight and under- 
 standing ; she was very quick, he felt, curiously right, too, 
 about Carrol. She excited him strangely ; set him thinking 
 rather humbly of his own poor accomplishments. He 
 had no notion that his own force of character and virility 
 made him interesting to women. 
 
 On their way home his sister took him to task ; he must 
 mingle with people and talk to them, not stand alone, 
 glowering. 
 
 " I have nothing to talk about," he said. 
 
 " You must make talk," she replied ; " that's the chief 
 art of society. Find out what people are interested in," 
 she said, " and get them to talk about that, or, better still, 
 talk to them about themselves ; you'll find they all like 
 that subject." 
 
 Jack looked at her in wonderment ; his sister, too, was 
 clever in her own way. All people, he reflected, were 
 probably clever in some way or other. But the social 
 whirligig was as absurd to him as the merry-go-round of a 
 fair. He found it difficult to go to The Court, tedious ; 
 of the lot only Margaret was worth knowing. 
 
 He began to get a little hopeless in regard to himself; 
 he had no talent for the drawing-room, no talent either for 
 the inn parlour, and not much desire to lounge about the 
 port. What was his place in life ? What ought he to do ? 
 
 Time hung heavily on his hands. In his despair he began 
 to read, and first of all, naturally enough, he began with 
 the newspapers. He found The Times stupidly prejudiced 
 
GREAT DAYS 171 
 
 and not to be had nearer than Dover. Apart from the little 
 scraps of news there was nothing in it to interest him : the 
 idiotic, partisan views of France and the war, the abuse of 
 Mr. Fox and praise of Mr. Pitt, the caricatures of Mr. 
 Tiernay and Mr. Erskine seemed alike stupid to him. 
 
 At a loose end he went up and called at The Court. 
 Margaret was glad to see him and walked with him to the 
 lodge. He found her very quick and fair-minded, astonish- 
 ingly free from prejudice, and eager to learn ; yet strong of 
 character, with a curious power of observation. She was 
 as little patriotic as Jack himself, and he probed to find out 
 how she had come to shake off the general malady. 
 
 " When I was a little girl," she said, " our gardener told 
 me one day that the best roses were French, and the best 
 peaches, and I came to the conclusion that perhaps some 
 French men and women, too, might be exceptional. Then I 
 heard of Charlotte Corday, and she became my favourite 
 heroine ; I used to read of her for hours, and cry over the 
 noble way she forgave her enemies, or I imagined she forgave 
 them. No, I don't think I'm a bit patriotic." 
 
 " You astonish me," he said. " How did you come to be 
 such a revoltee ? " 
 
 " I don't know," she replied. " From the time I was 
 fourteen I rebelled against the dictation of parents and 
 governess. They could never give good reasons, yet thought 
 they should be honoured and their opinions respected. I 
 was always at war with that view. And both mother and 
 father think all the old ways the only possible ways, and they 
 never reason or doubt, yet they expect you to agree with all 
 they say or do. It's frightful. I used to want to break 
 things after a dispute with daddy." 
 
1 72 GREAT DAYS 
 
 In her turn she questioned Jack about France and the 
 doings of the Reds, and hung breathless on his lips. 
 
 " Oh, how fine," she cried at Caressa's story of the first 
 Italian campaign. " How I wish I had been a man ; then 
 I, too, might have done something. How loathsome to be 
 cooped up here and fed like a fowl loathsome ! " 
 
 She was quick-tempered, Jack felt, but with a great fund 
 of generosity, and an ease of unselfishness which brought 
 him often to wonder. His breath caught when, at the end 
 of the talk, she told him her mother was about to take her to 
 town. The thought of being unable to see her was so 
 bitter that he realised how much he prized the chance talks 
 with her. She consoled him a little by hoping he would 
 come to see them when they returned. 
 
 After this visit time hung still more heavily on Jack's 
 hands. He began to spend a good deal of his leisure with 
 books, and when he was not reading his thoughts began to 
 wander more and more to France, to Suzanne and the little 
 colonel. Why had they not written, he wondered ? He 
 would write again. And he wrote again and again. Not 
 receiving any answer he took the second or third letter 
 himself to Boulogne and forwarded it from there. 
 
 Boulogne was intensely interesting to him. Round the 
 little port of Wimereux a sort of smugglers' camp had been 
 formed of men of both nationalities, daring young fellows, 
 for the most part, who were unvexed with scruples and willing 
 to do anything for money. Jack found he could buy good 
 French cognac in this camp ; it had been run up the coast 
 from port to port. Of course it was dear, four times the 
 price it used to be in Bordeaux, but even so it could be sold 
 in England at an immense profit. This was the trade which 
 
GREAT DAYS 173 
 
 Riding had found profitable, and Jack slipped into it again 
 very easily and made one or two successful trips. 
 
 Returning from his third trip he found at the inn a 
 letter from Suzanne which put an end to all his hesitation. 
 She began by reproaching him : she had written every week ; 
 it was disgraceful of him not to have answered. He must 
 have got at least one letter out of the twenty she had sent. 
 This was the last she would ever write. If she got no 
 answer she would be compelled to tell her uncle that she 
 was enceinte. It was terrible to her. She could never 
 forgive Jack his silence ; he should have guessed the truth. 
 It was cruel of him to leave her without a word, without a 
 sign, and she supposed that he would neglect his promise 
 to come back within the six months, too, for already more 
 than four had passed and there was no word from him, no 
 message, nothing. . . . 
 
 Every word of the letter was written in Jack's brain and 
 heart. He blamed himself fiercely ; how could he have 
 been so thoughtless ? He ought to have known she would 
 have written. Why had she got none of his letters ? What 
 was he to do ? At once he called his father to counsel ; he 
 told him all that had happened and asked him for his advice. 
 
 " I shall have to go at once," he said. " I must go." 
 
 His father would not hear of it. " Don't be stupid," he 
 said. " Why should you go back to prison ? " 
 
 " But I've promised," said Jack. 
 
 " Oh, promised ! " said his father. " Promises are not 
 important. Besides, who's to tell you that this girl is really 
 in that way ? She may be putting it on just to get you back. 
 I wouldn't stir." 
 
 Jack could not be satisfied with that solution. He asked 
 
174 GREAT DAYS 
 
 his sister about his parole. She thought he ought to go to 
 London himself to get an exchange, or, better still, get 
 Cecil Barron to introduce him to influential people. 
 
 " What a pity you attacked Selwyn ; he has great power, 
 you know. It's all a question of influence," she went on. 
 " Cecil told me that any Minister could get you an ex- 
 change." 
 
 Jack listened, but he had lost hope. His sister proposed 
 that they should go up to The Court to see Cecil Barron on 
 the matter, and Jack went with her all in a turmoil. He 
 left Emily to put the matter before Cecil while he went for 
 a walk with Margaret. Curiously enough her presence and 
 kindness sharpened the conscience in him, made him see 
 his duty more clearly, while rendering it more distasteful. 
 
 " What's the matter ? " she asked him at once. " You're 
 troubled about something." 
 
 Jack put the question of the parole to her. 
 
 " I've been thinking of it," she said. " Of course you'll 
 go back if you don't get an exchange." 
 
 Jack bowed his head at once. He had felt all along that 
 that was the only thing to be done. 
 
 "There's something else?" she questioned. "What 
 is it ? " 
 
 Jack put her off at first and then framed a supposititious 
 case without mentioning Suzanne. Margaret listened 
 intently, probing him the while. He felt her interest, 
 winced at her divination. 
 
 " I ought not to talk to you about it," he remarked 
 lamely. 
 
 " Why not ? " she asked quickly. 
 
 " You're a girl," he said, " and too young." 
 
GREAT DAYS 175 
 
 " You don't think so," she cried, " or you wouldn't have 
 spoken at all." 
 
 " I suppose that's true," he admitted. " I have a strange 
 confidence in your judgment." 
 
 She flushed a little, perhaps with pleasure at the implied 
 compliment. All her emotions were reflected in her face, 
 and the vivid spirit betrayed itself in vibrating nostrils and 
 quick change of colour. 
 
 " Why not tell me the whole truth ? " she asked. " I'm 
 not easily shocked. Women often pretend they are, but it's 
 usually mere pretence." 
 
 After a moment's hesitation Jack told his story, veiling 
 it as much as he could. He ended by asking : " What am 
 I to do ? " hoping he knew not what. 
 
 " You must know that," was Margaret's quick answer. 
 " Do you love her ? " 
 
 " I thought I did," hesitated Jack. 
 
 " If you did, you do," she decided. 
 
 Jack looked at her with miserable, sad eyes. " I'm 
 beginning to fear " he said. 
 
 Margaret was resolute. " If you told her you did, you 
 ought to go back." 
 
 Jack bent his head ; his voice caught in his throat, then 
 an angry resolution came to him. 
 
 " You're right. I'll go back." 
 
 " Tell her the truth," said she, relenting ; " let her 
 decide." 
 
 " That would be cruel," replied Jack, " and impossible 
 
 to me." 
 
 " Not so cruel in the long run," cried Margaret, 
 the half-truth that makes one sick with misery." 
 
176 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " I'll think it over," decided Jack resolutely. " Good- 
 bye ; you've been very good. I wish J were worthy of your 
 kindness." 
 
 " Good-bye," repeated Margaret, a little ruefully. " I 
 wish " 
 
GREAT DAYS 177 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 ON their way home Emily told Jack that Cecil had 
 been very kind and had promised to do all he 
 could ; he would write at once to London. 
 
 " The worst of it is," she said, " that you are not an 
 officer, and the English Government will not like to give up 
 a French officer for an Englishman who has not got a 
 commission." 
 
 In spite of his weight of anxiety and depression Jack 
 could hardly help smiling. It seemed to him amusing that 
 the English Government should think a French midshipman 
 or lieutenant more important than himself ; but he was 
 beginning to realise that the standard of values in England 
 was peculiar. 
 
 He told his sister it did not matter ; he intended to go to 
 France at once. She argued against this rather weakly. 
 
 " I suppose you must keep your parole," she said. 
 
 It suddenly struck him that she had got the phrase from 
 Cecil Barron ; she seemed to have no mind, no opinion 
 outside her own interests ; she was a pretty doll woman, 
 that was all. 
 
 When they got to the inn Jack called his father into the 
 parlour and told him that he had made up his mind to go 
 back ; could he have the Dolphin to take him to Boulogne ? 
 
 His sister interrupted them. " I've told Jack," she said, 
 
 N 
 
i;8 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " that I think it nonsensical ; of course he must keep his 
 parole, but he has still a month, and if he takes my advice 
 and goes up to London and is nice to Cecil Barren and his 
 friends they'll get him an exchange, and he needn't go back 
 at all ; but he won't listen to me. I only hope you'll have 
 more influence with him, father," and she went upstairs to 
 change her feathers, leaving the father and son together to 
 share the responsibility of decision. 
 
 " Sit down, lad," said the father. " Tell me why you've 
 made up your mind." 
 
 " Two things," replied Jack ; " the English Government 
 won't give me an exchange they think any French officer 
 worth more than I am. I shall have to go back in a month, 
 in any case. Besides " 
 
 The father looked at him. " One thing at a time ; if 
 
 Ihe British Government knew that you had thirty thousand 
 
 4ounds in the Funds, and that I had a bit over double that, 
 
 /they'd think you worth as much as a French officer. We'll 
 
 / take Barren with us and go up and tell 'em." 
 
 " Why didn't you do it before," questioned Jack, " when 
 I spoke to you four months ago ? " 
 
 " I had no idea," replied his father coolly, " that you 
 really thought of going back. I should not go a step, and 
 I thought you'd have as much sense." 
 
 " You wouldn't go now ? " asked Jack. 
 
 The father grinned and his little eyes twinkled. " I 
 wouldn't think of it," he said. " Do you know what I'd 
 do in your place ? " 
 
 " No," said Jack, looking at him without much hope or 
 interest. 
 
 " I'd go to London to Cecil Barren's tailors and get rigged 
 
GREAT DAYS 179 
 
 out in the top of the fashion ; I'd come back here and lease 
 The Grange and live in it ; Pd buy a couple of horses and 
 take Miss Nugent out driving, and when everyone was 
 admiring my horses and my house Pd go to The Court and 
 ask Miss Barron to come out for a drive with me. You'd 
 win her, I tell you," he wound up vehemently. " You'd 
 win her easily. . . . The old man's finished ; the port 
 wine's done for him ; he hasn't a year to live. Lady 
 Barren's nothing ; the boy's a weak spendthrift. We've 
 got forty thousand pounds mortgage on The Court ; 
 within this year if we put on the screw the girl will come 
 down and beg you to marry her to save her brother and her 
 mother if for nothing else. Think it over, Jack. Life's a 
 game," he added reflectively. " You've all the best cards, 
 why throw your hand away ? " 
 
 Jack looked at him ; at length he was beginning to sfee 
 his father as he was. 
 
 " Did you marry mother," he asked, " because she 
 this inn ? " 
 
 His father looked a little confused for a moment, and then 
 a slow smile stole over his face. 
 
 " I was a young fool in those days," he confessed, " and 
 she was a fine woman ; but I don't think Pd have married 
 her if she'd had nothing. I'd have kissed her," he added, 
 grinning. 
 
 Jack's eyes grew more miserable still ; his father had 
 gone too far. 
 
 " No need for talking," he said. " Each of us must go 
 his own way in life. My way is back to France ; I don't 
 want to cheat," he added. " At any rate, I won't cheat 
 those who have trusted me. I couldn't if I would " 
 
 ov\- 
 
 hai 
 
180 GREAT DAYS 
 
 His father tapped the table with his fingers ; he looked 
 at the boy whom he loved and of whom in his heart he was 
 very proud. He took in the hard, set face, the despairing, 
 sad eyes. " He's like his mother," he said to himself, " the 
 same big, kind heart," and his bowels yearned over the lad. 
 Still, life was a battle to him, and he could not give up the 
 fight ; he was too obstinate for that. " Did you tell her 
 so ? " he asked Jack. 
 
 Jack looked at him, only half understanding. 
 
 " Miss Barren, I mean," his father added quietly. 
 
 Jack nodded. 
 
 " And she told you to go back ? " 
 
 Jack nodded again. 
 
 The old man's hairy fingers beat a little tattoo on the 
 table, a habit with him when thinking profoundly. 
 
 " She said nothing more ? " he questioned further. 
 
 " Nothing," Jack replied with a sigh, " but that I was 
 to tell Suzanne the truth." 
 
 His father stopped the tattoo on the table and looked up 
 at Jack. 
 
 " And you will ? " he asked eagerly. 
 
 Jack shook his. head. "I couldn't; how can you hurt 
 someone who cares for you ? " 
 
 Again the old man was baffled, annoyed, angered ; and 
 yet at the bottom of him he was conscious of admiration for 
 the youth. 
 
 " You will do as you please," he said at length. " You 
 know I'll always stand by you," and their eyes met. 
 
 Jack put both hands on the old man's shoulders and 
 nodded his head, smiling. 
 
 " I know, dad," he said, " I know." 
 
GREAT DAYS 181 
 
 The old man rose without a word and went out : " The 
 look of his mother," he said to himself as he went ; " her 
 very eyes." 
 
 That same night Jack started for Boulogne in the Dolphin. 
 They had to leave the course twice to avoid English cruisers ; 
 since the battle of the Nile the narrow seas were alive with 
 them and the pressgangs were at work continually. 
 
 Jack had gone on board with a heart like lead, but the 
 excitement of being pursued and escaping changed his 
 ideas, put new, eager life into him, and when at length he 
 landed at the smugglers' camp one dark night he was quite 
 happy to say " Good-bye " to Riding and climb up the sandy 
 dunes by himself. He knew every foot of the way to the inn 
 beside the harbour ; he knew, too, that the inn-keeper, 
 Monsieur Pin, would give him a good welcome. As he 
 hastened up the winding footpath he sprang from one 
 tussock of stiff grass to another out of sheer delight in his own 
 strength of limb and physical exuberance of life. The 
 spice of danger in the adventure did him good. 
 
 " Great prey for a smuggler," he said to himself, for he 
 had a thousand pounds in the belt round his waist ; but he 
 had a sword by his left side and a pistol just under his hand, 
 and supreme confidence in his own skill and strength. Pin 
 might be dead ; he might find French soldiers in possession, 
 but after all, he was only going back to imprisonment ; and 
 he strode on lustily, every now and then running fifty yards 
 out of sheer delight in his own speed. 
 
 He found Georges Pin at the inn and got a warm welcome 
 from him, and he sat up half the night talking to some of 
 the French smugglers good fellows for the most part, 
 
1 82 GREAT DAYS 
 
 though most of them would have cut his throat for the gold 
 he had about him. 
 
 Next morning he took a seat in the diligence that left 
 Boulogne to follow the sandy coast southwards. But 
 before leaving Boulogne he sent a letter to Suzanne : 
 
 " Viens de recevoir ta premiere lettre, cherie : suis en 
 route. Ton JACK." 
 
 The further he went the gladder he was to be going back. 
 He was eager to see Suzanne again. Would she be as 
 pretty as ever ? he wondered. Would she be glad to see 
 him, or cross ? Probably cross ; she was a little spitfire, 
 but had a kind heart. And old Caressa, he was a dear. 
 Would he still be disputing with Sauvan ? Jack noticed 
 that he did not care much for Sauvan ; the philosopher 
 seemed thin, heartless, bloodless. " Damn his philosophy," 
 said Jack to himself ; " one moment of Caressa's hero- 
 worship is worth a year of it." As he thought of the little 
 fiery Frenchman spluttering with anger at the pragmatic 
 philosopher he roared with laughter. The world was a 
 comic place, himself rather a comic person ; here he was 
 hastening to do something that he did not want to do. But 
 did not he want to do it ? 
 
 He saw Suzanne's face again as she was packing for him, 
 and his heart went out to her. He recalled her as she held 
 up the light in the dungeon and her bare arm shone in the 
 gloom. Again he was at her bedroom door, and as he put 
 his hand up to tap, the door drew away and he saw her 
 white figure and took her in his arms. . . . 
 
 He was glad to go back ; he would have a great re- 
 ception, they would all be glad to see him. 
 
 The way seemed long, the hours dragged. 
 
GREAT DAYS 183 
 
 Village after village slid behind, and at length he came 
 through the gap between the hills and recognised the two 
 pine trees ; another turn of the road and he saw Cherbourg 
 lying before him, with Pile Pelee to the right and the 
 unfinished breakwater in the middle and the fort on the 
 island opposite. Now he was rattling over the pavement 
 of the streets ; he would soon be at La Trinite. Suddenly 
 he remembered that if he left the diligence at the next 
 corner and took his way down that street and then the next 
 to the left he would reach the prison quicker. His baggage 
 would be all safe with the honest French people. 
 
 In a moment he had opened the crazy old door, balanced 
 himself on the steps and jumped down on the pavement. 
 People looked at him, but no one seemed to recognise him ; 
 he turned down the street and round the next corner, and 
 saw the prison in front of him. He began to run. When 
 he came to the gate the sentry did not know him, but he 
 went in at once. 
 
 " Le Colonel Caressa," he cried, and ran across the yard. 
 As he got to the door of the lodge it opened ; Suzanne was 
 there, and he found himself kissing her wildly while she 
 cried silently. Still holding each other they went into the 
 sitting-room, and there he looked at her. She had altered 
 greatly ; she was much thinner, but one could scarcely see 
 any change in her figure. 
 
 " Why didn't you come sooner ? " she cried reproachfully. 
 " The days have been so long. I thought you would never 
 come, Jack ! " 
 
 " I only got the one letter from you," he said ; " this one, 
 and I started at once." 
 
 " I wrote once a week," she said, " for the first two 
 
i8 4 GREAT DAYS 
 
 months. I was happy at first, and then, after I knew how I 
 was, I began to get frightened and sad, and I wrote twice a 
 week, but I never had an answer, not one. Have you seen 
 uncle ? " 
 
 " No," Jack replied. " I got down at the corner and 
 came the short way ; he'll miss me." 
 
 " No, no," she said, " he'll guess ; he always believed 
 you'd come." 
 
 " Have you told him ? " said Jack. 
 
 She shook her head. " No, but I think he knows. He 
 has gone to meet you in all his uniform, poor little uncle. 
 He loves you, you know," she added wisely, nodding her head. 
 
 " And I him," said Jack. " Should I just run there or 
 can you send ? " 
 
 She smiled. " You can send Chichet if you like," she 
 said. 
 
 Jack went out bare-headed and called, and at once 
 Chichet skipped across the courtyard to meet him, and after 
 embracing him and kissing him on both cheeks started off 
 at full speed to La Trinite to bring the colonel, while the 
 little soldier at the gate stared in astonishment, and could 
 not make up his mind whether he had done right or wrong 
 to neglect the consigns. 
 
 Jack returned to Suzanne and told her how often he had 
 written and how he had failed to get an exchange, hoping 
 to the last minute that it would be possible, and she nodded 
 her head. Already she seemed different ; life and hope had 
 come into her eyes and face. 
 
 Then the door opened and the colonel appeared with 
 Chichet behind him. The colonel looked very stern, his 
 black moustaches were curled up defiantly ; he had on his 
 
GREAT DAYS 185 
 
 desperate air, but Jack went to him with outstretched 
 arms. 
 
 " Petit pere," he cried, and at once the colonel threw his 
 arms about him and began kissing him and hugging him, 
 and shaking the tears from his eyes at the same time ; and 
 when the embracing was over and he felt ashamed of his 
 tears he looked down and said : 
 
 " Cette sacree cuisse me fait mal," and Jack burst into 
 laughter, and Chichet danced a sort of hornpipe at the door, 
 and Suzanne said : 
 
 " I must have a look at the servant ; little uncle got 
 her for me, but she's not a good cook, and I want every- 
 thing good to-day. Marie ! Marie ! " 
 
1 86 GREAT DAYS 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 SUZANNE'S affection and the old colonel's joy at 
 the meeting moved Jack intensely. After telling 
 all his news and hearing all theirs, including a 
 story of how Weetman had managed to get whisky into the 
 prison by persuading the warder that it was the only thing 
 with which English sailors cleaned their clothes, Jack turned 
 quietly to the old colonel : 
 
 " I came back before my time, colonel, to marry Suzanne. 
 Will you give her to me ? " 
 
 The announcement brought about another great scene. 
 The colonel embraced Jack many times, while Suzanne cried 
 a little out of sheer happiness. Dr. Sauvan came in and 
 heard the news and, after sucking his upper lip for a moment, 
 proposed to go off to the Maine to make the arrangements. 
 Jack was astonished to hear from him that he would have to 
 get his father's written consent to the wedding. 
 
 While waiting for this the old life went on as before. Jack 
 even took up his fencing bouts with the colonel and Chichet, 
 and was delighted to find that his skill seemed to have 
 increased with his rest. But for some reason or other, 
 though the life was the same and as pleasant as ever, Jack 
 felt that everything had changed. Thinking over it at 
 night a good simile occurred to him : he remembered one 
 summer evening slipping out to sea in the old Dolphin under 
 
GREAT DAYS 187 
 
 a jib with the mainsail half hoisted ; as they slid past the 
 little pier all the people on it seemed to be moving, and Jack 
 and the people about him on the deck were quite still ; 
 whereas, of course, Jack and the vessel were moving while 
 the spectators were standing still. So now he found that 
 his view of all these people, of Sauvan and Chichet and 
 Caressa, and even of Suzanne herself, had all altered myster- 
 iously. Sauvan had seemed to him very reasonable and fair- 
 minded. Jack was now struck by a peevish precision and 
 pedantry in him. He was selfish and of light weight, Jack 
 felt ; his philosopher had dwindled to an empty formalist. 
 Chichet he saw was rather clever and self-seeking ; when 
 fencing he often let himself be pinked by the colonel when 
 he could easily have avoided it ; he was always the first to 
 notice and applaud any good stroke of the governor or of 
 Jack. 
 
 Suzanne and the little colonel had altered least of all. 
 Perhaps it was that Jack had known them best before. 
 Suzanne was so occupied with baby-linen, so delighted at 
 being able to talk of it all freely, that she was just as vivid, 
 quick-tempered, and quick-tongued as she had been at first. 
 She had long conferences with Marie, and Jack often heard 
 her berating the servant ; but she had a good heart and was 
 as generous and forgiving as she was passionate a true 
 daughter of France. 
 
 When Jack told Caressa about his exchange he was 
 delighted to find that it was no longer necessary ; General 
 Bonaparte had granted the little colonel's request, and at 
 the bottom of the curt official letter had written in his own 
 hand : " Accorde souvenir de Lodi. Bonaparte " ; so 
 Jack was free, and as peace negotiations were going on 
 
1 88 GREAT DAYS 
 
 between the two countries it looked as if the rest of the 
 British sailors would soon regain their liberty. Jack paid 
 more than one visit to them and found they were all pretty 
 well content, though pining as only sailors can pine for 
 perfect freedom. Gosport had gone thinner, while Weet- 
 man had grown much stouter. Both were glad to see Jack, 
 and on hearing the news of Jack's engagement Gosport pressed 
 him to ask the colonel for their freedom. Jack promised 
 to take the first opportunity of doing this. 
 
 His father's consent to the marriage came in due course, 
 accompanied by a very characteristic little letter : 
 
 " I wish you all luck," his father wrote, " but I cannot 
 help thinking it would have been wiser of you to have 
 stayed at home. You are too young to marry." 
 
 The words conjured up the whole scene and all the 
 friends and interests Jack had in Hurstpoint. None of 
 them drew him much except his father, and he did not take 
 much interest in anyone else except Margaret. What 
 would she think when she heard the news ? he wondered. 
 
 Meantime he slipped into the French life of the governor's 
 house with perfect comfort. 
 
 They were married at the Maine one morning. Jack 
 was astonished to find that the ceremony made no difference 
 whatever to him. He lived openly now with Suzanne, and 
 that was the only change ; otherwise everything went on as 
 before. 
 
 Almost immediately after the wedding time began to 
 hang heavily on Jack's hands. He got the old colonel to 
 write a letter to Bonaparte telling of his niece's marriage 
 to an Englishman, and praying that he might be allowed to 
 send home a dozen English sailors whom his nephew-in-law 
 
GREAT DAYS 189 
 
 represented as having people dependent on them. In a 
 little while the petition came back granted. It was Bona- 
 parte's cue at the moment to show himself generous to the 
 English, for he desired peace. But his wonderful memory, 
 and his even more astonishing personal kindness to all those 
 connected with his early triumphs, was proved to Jack by 
 the words scrawled on the side : " Rien pour toi-meme ? 
 B." 
 
 The old colonel put this precious word carefully away 
 with the uniform in which he had been wounded, and 
 talked more about his hero than ever. As Bonaparte rose 
 to greater power and fame the little colonel's worship of his 
 benefactor grew into adoration. 
 
 When Jack took the news of their freedom to Gosport 
 and Weetman he was surprised to find Gosport a little 
 ungrateful, as he thought. Weetman was delighted to get 
 back to Hurstpoint and the port side public-house, but 
 Gosport declared that there would be nothing for him to 
 do without Jack, seemed reluctant to go away, and wanted 
 to wait for him. At length Jack arranged for him to go to 
 Pin's at Boulogne and there get into touch with Riding 
 and send him all the home news he could. 
 
 After the English sailors left Jack got into the habit of 
 going nearly every afternoon to Sauvan's house, either to 
 borrow a book or to talk to the doctor about the one he had 
 just been reading. In the course of three or four months 
 he got through most of the French classics and a great 
 many of the newer writers, particularly Rousseau and 
 Madame de Stael. In Rousseau he found exquisite des- 
 criptions of natural scenery ; it was as if nature's loveli- 
 ness had been rediscovered about this time, so keen was 
 
190 GREAT DAYS 
 
 the pleasure everyone took in St. Pierre's descriptions of 
 tropical scenery and Rousseau's paintings of Swiss landscapes. 
 
 The direct teaching of these books, too, had a very real 
 effect on Jack ; their constant appeal to the reason was 
 re-echoed in life in the most extraordinary way. People 
 talked of abstract reason as a sort of final judge which all 
 civilised persons must sooner or later acknowledge ; a 
 republican government seemed to them rational. To call 
 everyone "citoyen " and " citoyenne " was nothing but a 
 reasonable proof of equality, and this love of reason appeared 
 to Jack hopeful and convincing. Every now and then, it 
 is true, vague doubts came to him more as feelings than as 
 thoughts. 
 
 Passing outside La Trinite one day he heard the choir 
 singing, and went away wondering why the music of Adeste 
 fideles kept singing itself to him freighted with an extra- 
 ordinary appeal. Little problems, too, came up which 
 reason did not seem to solve satisfactorily. One incident 
 that happened about this time helped to clear his mind. 
 
 A mother had left a child by a post while she went a few 
 paces along the dock side to talk to her husband, who was 
 working on board a little schooner. The man went below 
 to find something that his wife wanted, and suddenly the 
 baby girl, who had crawled to the edge, tumbled into the 
 water eight or ten feet below. Jack, who was passing, 
 noticed that there were no steps within twenty yards, and 
 that probably the baby would sink if he did not go to its 
 rescue. He threw off his coat at once and jumped in 
 beside it. When he came to the surface he held the baby up 
 with one hand and swam with the other to the steps. The 
 mother thanked him effusively, kissing his hands and crying 
 
GREAT DAYS 191 
 
 out about his bravery. The father, too, seemed a good deal 
 moved. Jack was delighted to get away from their gratitude 
 into dry clothes. 
 
 That evening the woman came to the prison and told 
 everything, and when she had gone away a great discussion 
 arose. Sauvan declared that Jack had done wrong ; he had 
 no business to risk his life, which was valuable to the state 
 and perhaps to humanity, for the life of a little child. It 
 was absurd. Suppose he had been drowned ? It would 
 have been a bad action ; he would have given away some- 
 thing valuable to the community for almost nothing. His 
 duty was to try to save the baby from the dock side without 
 risking his own life. 
 
 The little colonel would not have this reasoning at any 
 price ; a sailor or a soldier ought always to be ready, he 
 thought, to throw away his life for humanity. It was a 
 good example, and " Sacre Bleu ! a good example's 
 always worth a life." 
 
 The argument between the two protagonists got very 
 warm. Sauvan began to sneer at irrational sentimentality, 
 and the little colonel declared that only cowards were 
 perfectly reasonable, and was rather inclined to think that 
 perfectly reasonable men were all cowards, which led at 
 length to Sauvan standing up and putting on his hat with 
 offended dignity and silently taking his leave. 
 
 After he had gone the colonel appealed to both Jack and 
 Suzanne, and Jack was very well pleased to find that Suzanne 
 was just as warm an admirer of what she called his heroism 
 as even the little colonel. 
 
 " Old Sauvan," she said, " reminds me of a clock ; he 
 can tell you the exact time if ever anybody wants to know it, 
 
192 GREAT DAYS 
 
 though it never did anyone any good to know it, but he 
 can't make a single minute happier to anyone." 
 
 Thinking the matter over Jack came to the conclusion 
 that the irrational view of the little colonel and Suzanne 
 pleased him better, seemed nearer right to him than the 
 rational argument put forward so persistently by the doctor. 
 
 With the birth of the child, a little girl, Jack felt himself 
 more and more at a loose end. Suzanne was completely 
 taken up with the baby, and the old colonel seemed as 
 devoted to his grand-niece as the mother. Jack's active 
 spirit began to demand work more and more imperiously. 
 
 About this time a letter came from Gosport telling Jack 
 that there were new developments in the smugglers' camp, 
 for peace negotiations were on foot and smuggling would, 
 no doubt, increase extraordinarily as soon as peace was 
 declared. He begged Jack to come at once and take a hand 
 in the old game. Jack put it all before the colonel, and the 
 colonel felt, too, that it would be a good thing for Jack to 
 get his fortune into his own hands and to increase it if 
 possible. He encouraged him to go and see how the land 
 lay, and Suzanne hardly attempted to keep her husband at 
 home. She, too, had seen Jack's impatient fretting, and 
 had felt that perhaps it would be better for him to get 
 something to do. He was like a dog on the chain. His 
 natural good temper was getting irritated by the enforced 
 inaction. 
 
 Before starting for Boulogne Jack promised Suzanne to 
 come for her or send if he had to pass any time in England. 
 
 He went straight to Pin's inn at Boulogne and found 
 the conditions much as Gosport had stated them ; peace 
 was in the air, and the smugglers had already increased in 
 
GREAT DAYS 193 
 
 numbers. Riding came over in the first week, and he 
 agreed that as soon as peace was declared there would be a 
 great opening for profitable dealing, for not only brandy, 
 but all French wines, had gone up threefold and fourfold in 
 price, and the first cargoes would fetch a fortune. 
 
 Naturally enough, Chips' undertaking to build a brigan- 
 tine faster than anything on the narrow seas came into Jack's 
 mind. He found that both Gosport and Riding believed 
 in Chips' capacity, and that Gosport had new ideas on the 
 subject of a ship's speed, ideas won from American practice. 
 He believed in broader ships than the English model, 
 declaring that they had equal stability and were therefore 
 as fast in strong winds and far faster in light ones. Chips, 
 he said, was the only man in England who agreed with him. 
 He thought that if Chips were given a free hand he would 
 produce an extraordinary vessel. 
 
 Jack resolved to consult his father and, after writing to 
 his wife and the colonel, he went on board the Dolphin with 
 Gosport and was put across to Hurstpoint. 
 
194 GREAT DAYS 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 IT is almost impossible to put the events of the next 
 two or three years in any orderly and clear sequence. 
 To Jack himself they always appeared a confused 
 welter ; there was no path across the waters. Life was dull 
 to him for the first time ; it had lost its intense zest ; the 
 purposes of it and the prizes all seemed paltry ; he floated 
 hither and thither like a water-logged ship, sinking gradually 
 lower and lower. Without confessing it to himself, he was 
 tired of his marriage ; he was very young and had in excess 
 the faults of youth. He was quick, eager, daring, a lover of 
 risks and adventures, content so long as life held ever-new 
 excitement. In many ways marriage closed the door, 
 limited the horizon. At every movement he was conscious 
 of the change ; girls spoke to him differently, were not so 
 inclined to flirt with him. Men thought less of him, that 
 was clear ; he had fallen in public esteem. He resented the 
 change, and the tie of marriage dragged on him beyond 
 reason. He hated having to say where he was going or 
 where he had been ; he was not a child, he thought, to be 
 so schooled, and Suzanne was very curious and outspoken, 
 and exceedingly jealous. She did not make the bond 
 lighter, far from it ; her very tenderness, the frankness of 
 her abandon, worked against her. Jack soon felt sorry, and 
 
GREAT DAYS 195 
 
 admitted to himself that Suzanne could be a mistress or a 
 mother, but could never be a companion. 
 
 She expected him to be greatly interested in her clothes 
 and hats, and in the way she took care of their child and the 
 house. She seemed to be always looking for praise or for 
 kisses and caressings, like a baby for lollipops ; and he soon 
 realised that her mind was a child-mind, utterly immature 
 and complacently self-satisfied. He was surprised now and 
 then to find that she had a certain interest in people, and a 
 quick feminine understanding of their faults and vanities ; 
 but he never guessed that a little encouragement from him 
 would have set her trying to develop this power of compre- 
 hension with astonishing results. 
 
 Very soon after their marriage he asked himself how he 
 could ever have imagined that he loved her. She was 
 pretty, but that seemed so little now, and he could never 
 talk to her, he groaned to himself ; their tetes-d-tetes were 
 either passages of passion or a quarrel, and generally began 
 in the one and ended in the other. 
 
 What he ought to have done hardly concerns us for the 
 moment ; what he did do is not very clear, for he seems to 
 have thrown himself headlong into every distraction that 
 offered, in order to deaden thought and stifle regret. 
 
 As soon as he reached Hurstpoint he busied himself about 
 the new vessel ; he talked it all over with his father and 
 Chips, and at length gave the shipwright the order to make a 
 brigantine of about two hundred and fifty tons, which 
 Gosport was to arm. But the keel of the little clipper was 
 hardly laid down when he had to return to Suzanne in 
 France. She wrote him every day, and every week or so 
 brought him a packet of her letters. She could not live 
 
196 GREAT DAYS 
 
 without him, he must come back and when he went back 
 he found it was merely his presence she wanted. She had 
 nothing to give him except herself, and it did not enter 
 her head now to vary or enhance the gift. 
 
 In two or three months Jack was weary to yawning. He 
 had to return to England, he said, to see how the vessel was 
 going on. As soon as he was alone his spirits began to rise. 
 On reaching Hurstpoint he found his father had married 
 Nancy, who seemed very happy, and was cheekier than ever. 
 
 After a week or two at the inn Jack noticed that his sister 
 was getting very religious ; she was going about a good deal 
 with young Carrol, and seemed to have forgotten Cecil 
 Barren completely, perhaps because he had almost deserted 
 the village for London. 
 
 Some time in the summer the brigantine was launched, 
 and then rigged out and tuned up in cruise after cruise by 
 Chips. There was no doubt that she w 7 as exceedingly fast, 
 much faster even than the Dolphin, and for some weeks 
 Jack took immense delight in getting everything into order 
 on board and bringing his crew to the highest pitch of 
 efficiency. 
 
 By this time Suzanne's letters were getting importunate 
 again. His father thought he ought to bring her over, 
 and after some time Jack resolved to do this, because 
 Suzanne wanted, she said, to meet his father and to see what 
 English life was like. 
 
 When peace was made, in the early part of the next year, 
 Jack took The Grange, furnished as it was, and installed 
 his wife there. From the beginning the experiment did 
 not turn out well. If Suzanne was lonely in France without 
 her husband, she was ten times as lonely at The Grange 
 
GREAT DAYS 197 
 
 without anyone to talk to, and imprisoned, as she said, 
 among people she could not understand. Emily did her 
 best for her, it is true, for a little while ; young Carrol 
 came, too, and aired his French ; but none of the county 
 people ever called, and the poor girl spent the greater part 
 of her time alone. Her baby, even, and Jack were not 
 sufficient to fill up the void ; she quickly became discon- 
 tented and fell out of sorts. As ill-luck would have it, the 
 summer was dark and rainy, and the sun seemed to show 
 itself as rarely in June as it usually does in December. 
 
 Jack took his wife out for drives, but she did not like 
 the country ; it was never gay, she said, never warm and 
 bright. He took her to church, too, but the gentlefolk 
 did not appear to know them. His sister said they resented 
 his marrying a Frenchwoman. Margaret Barren, it is true, 
 bowed and smiled pleasantly, but Selwyn was with her, 
 and Selwyn did not appear to see Jack and managed to keep 
 Margaret to himself. Suzanne noticed Margaret's greeting, 
 for, after she had reached home, she wanted to know who 
 the perch-pole was who had bowed, and when Jack answered 
 that Margaret was an old friend, she went on to mimic her 
 smile and caricature her dress till Jack stared at her spiteful- 
 ness. 
 
 The crisis did not come at once, for in spite of domestic 
 troubles the year held some good moments in it. As soon 
 as peace was declared Jack took the brigantine down to 
 Bordeaux and returned with a large cargo of fine brandies 
 and wines. The trade was highly profitable, and very 
 interesting as well, besides supplying Jack with excellent 
 reasons for being away from home. 
 
 All this windy and rainy summer Suzanne was nearly 
 
198 GREAT DAYS 
 
 deserted ; she had no one to talk to except the maid, Marie, 
 whom she had brought with her, and her baby, and she 
 pined for familiar talk and human companionship. 
 
 From the very first meeting Suzanne's dislike of England 
 and the English seemed to concentrate itself on Margaret 
 Barron. Jack often wondered at this intuitive enmity. 
 Without intending it, Suzanne kept his thoughts fixed on 
 Margaret, and he could not but contrast them to Suzanne's 
 disadvantage. If he were out late at the port or the inn she 
 was sure to ask him whether he had been with the eel ; she 
 never spoke of Margaret but in nicknames, and her jealousy 
 annoyed Jack beyond reason, for it had no foundation, at 
 least for some time, and as it made the house intolerable he 
 took to spending a good deal of his spare time at the inn. 
 
 One day he was going home from the port when Margaret 
 came towards him from the road which led to the rectory ; 
 he bowed to her and walked beside her. She wanted to see 
 him, for she had just heard from Carrol that he was always 
 at the inn and drinking too much, and she felt annoyed with 
 him ; but she concealed this and asked him simply how he 
 was getting on. 
 
 " I'm not getting anywhere," he confessed bitterly ; 
 " marking time or worse." 
 
 His hopelessness took away her anger and made her eager 
 to help him. 
 
 " It was your wife I saw in church the other day, wasn't 
 it ? " she began. " Why don't you bring her up to The 
 Court ? Mother would be glad to see her, and I would try 
 to make things pleasant for her, Jack." 
 
 " It is very kind of you," he answered, " but she only 
 speaks French and she's lonely here." 
 
GREAT DAYS 199 
 
 " That's natural enough," Margaret went on. " Do 
 bring her up and let's try to make it pleasant for her. You've 
 a little girl, haven't you ? " 
 
 Jack nodded. 
 
 " You mustn't avoid your friends.'* 
 
 Jack retorted bitterly : " It is the friends avoid us. Didn't 
 you see at church how they all cut us ? " 
 
 " You mustn't be hard on them," replied Margaret. 
 " They don't know much French and they hate to appear 
 ridiculous ; that's the cause of their standoffishness, believe 
 me. If your wife would begin to talk English they would 
 call and try to help her." 
 
 Jack shook his head. " She won't ; she hates the English 
 and England, Margaret." 
 
 " You must be patient with her." 
 
 " I'm not patient," cried Jack. " I seem to have lost 
 hope ; life is finished for me. I have missed the way, 
 somehow." 
 
 His bitterness thrilled her, but her very sympathy made 
 her even more direct than usual. 
 
 " The way doesn't lead to the inn," she took heart to say. 
 
 " So the parson's been talking," cried Jack. " Damn 
 him ! " 
 
 " That's unfair of you," she broke in seriously. " Carrol 
 thinks a great deal of you we all do ; you should justify 
 our high opinion." 
 
 " If I could have a talk with you now and then," said 
 Jack, " I would be able to go on ; but I'm about as hopeless 
 as a man can be, and I'm not worth spending talk upon." 
 
 Margaret looked at him. " I nearly always go down to 
 the vicarage on Tuesdays and Thursdays and return home 
 
200 GREAT DAYS 
 
 about six ; if you cared you could walk a part of the way 
 with me as far as the forked roads," she added, " where our 
 ways separate." 
 
 The last words made Jack wince, but he thanked her and 
 took her at her word. 
 
 The news soon got about the village that Jack Morgan 
 and Miss Barren were always meeting and walking together. 
 The walks were innocent enough, though both Margaret 
 and Jack delighted in them. The intellectual likeness 
 between them made the unlikenesses interesting. Since their 
 first meeting at The Court, Margaret had always been ready 
 to receive new impressions from him was indeed always in 
 a state of expectancy, while Jack realised that he was 
 strangely eager for her praise, and intensely pleased with it, 
 for she only gave it when it was called forth imperiously. 
 Now this intellectual sympathy was curiously quickened ; 
 Jack's hopeless position called forth all Margaret's sympathy, 
 and her kindness intensified his sensuality ; the bodily 
 attraction between them became insistent. Margaret was 
 infinitely desirable to Jack ; the mere sight of her thrilled 
 and excited him, and she was just as conscious of the deeper 
 interest she felt in him. She was annoyed with herself 
 indeed for the obsession of the feeling ; it was a sort of 
 angry curiosity in her that made her turn Carrol's talk or 
 his sister's talk always to Jack and his married life, and when 
 one told her of his drinking and the other of his unhappiness 
 she tried to be indifferent or impartial, but in herself was 
 deliciously excited and flattered. 
 
 Every meeting seemed to weave fresh bonds between 
 them. Jack found that telling Margaret all that he had 
 seen and done made everything clearer to him, and in the 
 
GREAT DAYS 201 
 
 same way he brought French life before her just as vividly 
 by his reports of what he had witnessed and heard. His 
 exciting stories and experiences had a singular attraction 
 for her ; the very danger of the life he had led interested 
 her enormously. They both felt that the time spent 
 together was always too short. 
 
 One day as they stood talking at the forked roads, before 
 separating, Suzanne saw them. She had come out after 
 putting the baby to bed, hoping to meet Jack, and as she 
 walked round the bend in the road she saw him talking with 
 the woman she hated. Suzanne stopped short ; she did 
 not know what to do, but she wanted to see on what terms 
 they would part. " He's in love with that tall beast," she 
 cried to herself in fear and anger, and the next moment she 
 had slipped through a gate and was watching the pair from 
 behind the hedge, ducking down as soon as either of them 
 cast a glance in her direction. 
 
 To her mortification and rage she had nearly half an hour 
 to wait. When they parted it was merely with a hand-clasp 
 and a bow. Margaret did not turn once to look after him, 
 Suzanne noticed. " Cold and stuck up," she said to herself. 
 " What does he see in her ? " she asked in bitterness of 
 heart. 
 
 Jack came down the road towards her with his head bent 
 as if in reflection. 
 
 Suzanne thought of surprising him, and then concluded 
 it would be best to follow him home and to say nothing 
 about the occurrence in order to learn more, but when she 
 got into the house and found him lost in a book she could 
 not change her anger to indifference in a moment or conceal 
 her temper. 
 
202 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " What is the matter ? " he asked at length in French. 
 
 " You know very well," she replied sullenly, looking at 
 him with hurt, hating eyes. 
 
 " I do not," he replied carelessly. He had persuaded 
 himself that his meetings with Margaret were mere talks ; 
 he had not even kissed her hand. 
 
 " She must be a pretty creature," cried Suzanne, " that 
 English girl who makes love to a married man." 
 
 " I don't know whom you mean," Jack replied. " There's 
 no girl making love to me." 
 
 " I saw you at the corner," cried Suzanne, " talking to 
 the c perch-pole,' " and she mimicked Margaret's way of 
 holding herself. " I suppose she was your mistress before 
 you married me ? " 
 
 Jack revolted. " You mustn't say such things." 
 
 " I'll say what I like," cried Suzanne, " and it's true, 
 anyone can see it ; she's in love with you and follows you 
 to your own door, the slut ! " 
 
 Jack got up and went out of the house. When he 
 returned it was nightfall, but Suzanne's anger, which had 
 died down in his absence, flamed up again at his silence and 
 set face. 
 
 " I want to go back home," she said, the moment he got 
 into the room. " I can't live in this horrible country or with 
 you. You leave me alone all day to go about with another 
 woman, and when you return you sit silent or you read ; it 
 is enough to drive one mad. I have no one to talk to I am 
 so unhappy," and she choked. 
 
 Jack took her in his arms and tried to persuade her that 
 her suspicions were imaginary, but as soon as he mentioned 
 Margaret she flamed again ; she would not hear of her. If 
 
GREAT DAYS 203 
 
 Jack could have persuaded himself to speak against Margaret, 
 or to speak contemptuously of her, Suzanne would have 
 forgiven him ; but the thought of doing so did not enter his 
 head ; he kept Margaret resolutely out of the petty squabble. 
 He would not have her degraded with vile names, and 
 Suzanne felt his reticence and raged against it. 
 
 "I'll go home," she cried. "I hate the English and 
 England. I and my baby will die if we stay here. Why 
 can't you take me back ? You don't want me. . . . ' 
 
 She raged and begged till he promised to do her will. 
 
 Of course he thought that next day it would all blow over 
 and be forgotten, and on the morrow Suzanne said nothing 
 about returning. But a few days later Jack stopped at the 
 port till it was dark, and when he got back home he found 
 Suzanne raging and more discontented than ever. The 
 lonely house, she declared, frightened her to death : there 
 were noises in it ; she had had Marie to sit with her the 
 whole evening ; the drip, drip of the rain terrified her. 
 
 Again and again she declared he must take her home ; 
 she would die if confined any longer in the wretched village 
 where there was no one to talk to, nothing to see, and where 
 it did nothing but rain all day long. 
 
 And worse was to come. Suzanne could never get that 
 meeting between Margaret and Jack out of her head. She 
 talked to Marie about it, and set her to watch. They soon 
 discovered the days of meeting, and at length Suzanne made 
 up her mind to shame her rival. 
 
 Since the first scene with Suzanne Jack was conscious 
 of his love for Margaret, and though he would not admit 
 it to himself, the desire to know whether she cared for 
 him in return as Suzanne had said became almost irresistible. 
 
204 GREAT DAYS 
 
 One day he met her in a despairing mood. 
 
 " There is nothing to do," he cried, as they stood at the 
 parting of the ways. " Nothing ! No way of escape for 
 me. Sometimes I think I shall go mad. Meeting you like 
 this is torture." 
 
 Margaret's eyes dwelt on him. " What can I do ? " she 
 asked simply. 
 
 " Say that you care, too," he said. " That would ease 
 the pain, make me less miserable." He caught her hand 
 and kissed it. 
 
 Before she could reply Suzanne pushed her way through 
 the hedge, screaming in French : 
 
 " Kiss her mouth ! That's what she wants, the Eng- 
 lish girl. Don't mind me ; I'm nobody, only your 
 wife ! She's everything, the prostitute ! " 
 
 Jack turned to her. " Hush ! hush ! for God's sake." 
 
 But Margaret went in front of him. " I'm sorry," she 
 said in French. " I should not have let him, but it is the 
 first time. You believe me ? " she added proudly, holding 
 out her hand to Suzanne as she spoke. 
 
 " I believe nothing," cried Suzanne. " You meet my 
 husband day after day and you kiss him. You shall not ! 
 You shall not ! Get a man of your own, can't you ? but 
 leave my husband alone, or I'll make you." 
 
 " I'm sorry," said Margaret, " but you're unjust. I advised 
 
 him to marry you, and now " She turned and walked 
 
 away. 
 
 In silence Jack went back to The Grange with Suzanne. 
 He would not reproach her ; he hardly heard her out- 
 pourings of jealous anger and suspicion. He felt that it 
 was all ended, that Margaret would not meet him any 
 
GREAT DAYS 205 
 
 more, and that conviction drove all other thoughts out 
 of his head. He was cold with misery. 
 
 His silence exasperated Suzanne. She became determined 
 now to get back to France. Next day she declared that, 
 if Jack would not take her home, she would go by herself. 
 
 She was so cool, so determined, that at length Jack took 
 her back to Cherbourg and spent some little time there 
 with her and the colonel. 
 
 Before the end of the year he was as tired of Cherbourg 
 as his wife had been tired of Hurstpoint ; he ached with 
 longing for the free, adventurous life, and made the long 
 and dark nights the excuse for getting back to what he 
 called " his work." Suzanne hardly objected ; the loneli- 
 ness of her life at Hurstpoint and her jealousy of Margaret 
 had completely estranged her from her husband, killed 
 indeed her little vain affection. Jack might perhaps have 
 won her love again, had he so willed, but he could not 
 live the ordinary life with her in Cherbourg ; his mind 
 seemed to stagnate in it. 
 
 He returned to England like a schoolboy who gets out 
 into the open after a long punishment. He shut up The 
 Grange, and on his short visits to Hurstpoint put up at 
 the inn and resumed his life at the point where his 
 marriage had broken it off. 
 
 When an active mind is deprived of play and exercise 
 the tedium of living soon becomes insupportable ; no bodily 
 pleasure makes up for the lack of mental stimulus ; the 
 intellect, too, will have what is necessary to its growth. 
 Even a tender plant will thrust aside paving stones in order 
 to reach up to the light. 
 
206 GREAT DAYS 
 
 There were many reasons why smuggling after the peace 
 of Amiens was more successful than it had ever been before. 
 As might have been expected, the desire for French wines 
 and brandies had steadily increased all through the years 
 of war, when the demand had been far greater than the 
 supply. With peace the trade became extremely profitable, 
 and the activity of the Preventive officers did not increase 
 in like measure. Indeed, the whole service on the English 
 side wanted reorganisation. The inhabitants of the sea- 
 coast everywhere were against the Customs officers and 
 men, and gave them no information ; the force was not 
 only undermanned but unpopular. 
 
 Jack therefore found it easy to run cargo after cargo all 
 through the winter. Putting up at the inn as he did in 
 the intervals of his cruises he began to drink, as men of 
 that day drank, a great deal more than was good for him, 
 and the habit of successful command made his manners 
 rather imperious. 
 
 All this time he deteriorated rapidly. He had resented 
 the coldness which the gentry had shown him on his 
 marriage. Now finding himself isolated in the village he 
 was inclined out of a spirit of antagonism to exaggerate the 
 differences of opinion which rendered him unpopular. In 
 the inn parlour he was continually meeting gentlemen to 
 whom Bonaparte was a sort of ogre, and he amused himself 
 by picturing him as a hero. Nine out of ten Englishmen 
 regarded everything French with disgust, and Jack took 
 pleasure in showing them how mistaken they were. It was 
 fortunate for him that he was only in the inn for short 
 periods of time, just sufficient to dispose of the cargo and 
 get his little craft ready for another cruise ; otherwise 
 
GREAT DAYS 207 
 
 his presence there must have led to frequent and perhaps 
 fatal quarrelling. 
 
 On one occasion he almost came to blows with Crosby ; 
 another time he made fun of Myring and turned the big 
 lieutenant into an enemy. 
 
 One evening, as ill-luck would have it, half a dozen 
 gentlemen were in the inn when Selwyn came in with the 
 news that war was imminent. He used the opportunity 
 to goad Jack with quiet sarcasm and hardly-concealed con- 
 tempt. The truth is, he was suffering himself, for he had 
 just been refused by Margaret, and he could not help 
 trying to score off Jack. 
 
 " We shall now see," he said, " whether your hero 
 Bonaparte is able to beat the one-armed Nelson. I believe 
 we shall soon hear of another battle of the Nile." 
 
 Jack was nothing loth to take up the argument. " What 
 could Bonaparte do," he said, " but declare war when the 
 English promised to give up Malta and then refused to 
 do it ? It is difficult not to fight with people who break 
 their word. But perhaps Mr. Selwyn would defend broken 
 promises." 
 
 The wordy dispute went on till Selwyn declared that it 
 was a pity Jack had no right to wear a sword ; whereupon 
 Jack replied that it seemed to him the majority of the 
 people who had a right to wear swords were glad of any 
 excuse not to use them. Selwyn grew very pale at this 
 insult and spoke aside to Nugent and Myring, and then 
 all three got up and left the room. For some weeks after 
 this Jack had the inn almost entirely to himself ; the 
 officers avoided it, and even Crosby appeared rarely. One 
 day Jack on his way to the port met Colonel Nugent face 
 
208 GREAT DAYS 
 
 to face, and was astonished by the scarcely perceptible 
 contemptuous nod he received in return for his greeting. 
 He could not help talking to Riding about it when he met 
 him five minutes afterwards, and Riding gave him the key 
 to the general coldness. 
 
 " Selwyn," he said, " put himself in the hands of Nugent 
 and Myring, in regard to the dispute with you. He was 
 perfectly willing, he said, to meet you with swords or pistols 
 as they might choose, if they regarded you as a gentleman. 
 The two officers not being very friendly to you declared 
 a duel impossible, said that you couldn't even find a gentle- 
 man to second you, that you had no right to carry a sword 
 at all or to pretend to equality with gentlefolk. You were 
 received by the Barrens because in war time, class distinctions 
 were apt to be relaxed, but really it was too much to ask 
 gentlemen to accept a publican's son as an equal. They both 
 agreed that Selwyn was quite right to treat your insult with 
 disdain ; it was the only proper course. For themselves 
 they would in future have as little to do with you as 
 possible." 
 
 The decision was soon put about, and in consequence 
 there was a lowering of the temperature, so to speak, which 
 Jack felt as distinctly unpleasant. 
 
 Mr. Carrol even lent an avowable reason to the general 
 sentiment by preaching a sermon against French atheism 
 and revolutionary dogmas, which did Jack a good deal of 
 harm in public esteem. 
 
 A day or two afterwards he saw Margaret near the 
 village, but she hurried past without stopping, giving him 
 a little embarrassed bow, and at once he felt himself despised 
 and deserted. He could do nothing but press on the 
 
GREAT DAYS 209 
 
 preparations on board the brigantine, and then return to 
 the inn to drink. 
 
 Margaret's coldness was inexplicable to him, and intensely 
 painful ; it came to him as a blow from the one person he 
 trusted, and it came at a moment when he was least able 
 to bear it. He had grown accustomed to live from meeting 
 to meeting with her ; he had nothing else in his life but 
 this brief occasional joy, and now he recognised with aching 
 heart that it, too, was not to be reckoned upon. The pain 
 of the disappointment taught him that he was deeply in 
 love with her, and this love was different from any other 
 he had known not in degree merely, but in kind. It 
 frightened him even to think of losing it ; he could not 
 face the pain, the drear loneliness of life, without her com- 
 panionship. He was ready to do anything, he said to 
 himself, suffer anything, but not that dead blank. 
 
 The realisation of the precarious slightness of the tie 
 between them, the dread lest the delightful intercourse 
 and intimacy should have ended altogether, hastened the 
 growth of his love to overpowering passion. For just as 
 it is the wind threatening to uproot the tree which forces 
 it to drive its roots deeper and spread them more widely, 
 so the dangers that menace the existence of love give it 
 greater strength and holding power. 
 
 After brooding and drinking for some time Jack made 
 up his mind to see Margaret as soon as possible, and have 
 a definite explanation with her ; but his heart knew that 
 he meant to make a last appeal to her. As soon as the 
 resolution was taken his spirits rose ; he was too young, 
 too vigorous, to believe in disaster. Strong characters are 
 usually the most constant and the easiest to persuade of 
 constancy in others. p 
 
210 GREAT DAYS 
 
 The cause of the change in Margaret was not far to seek. 
 Selwyn was a favourite of Lady Barren ; a man of property 
 and fashion, she said to herself, of handsome person to boot ; 
 a lover any woman would be proud of. Again and again 
 she had detailed his advantages to Margaret. Lady Barron 
 had hardly an inkling of any love that did not gratify vanity, 
 but her constant praising of Selwyn had less than no effect 
 on her daughter, who was of deeper and richer tempera- 
 ment, and as much given to enthusiasms as her mother to 
 vanities. 
 
 From girlhood Margaret t had made a sort of hero of 
 Jack. When he came to The Court as a man, his originality 
 of dress and manner, of speech and thought, woke her 
 admiration again. It flattered her to feel that she was 
 like him in mind and character, indeed, the only person 
 able to understand and sympathise with him ; his singu- 
 larity was as dear to her as her own. She hugged herself with 
 the belief that they were unlike any other pair in the world. 
 
 The shock of hearing of his intimacy with Suzanne almost 
 made her betray herself ; the disappointment, the necessity 
 for concealing what she felt, something honest and proud 
 in her, too, made her advise Jack to be constant to Suzanne. 
 But when she heard of his marriage she blamed herself and 
 her youthful generosity bitterly. At heart she felt nothing 
 but disdain for the girl who could marry a man who did not 
 love her, but her contempt for Suzanne only deepened her 
 pity for Jack. She thought of her feeling for him as pity 
 and intellectual comprehension. She chose to hide even 
 from herself the true nature of her emotion, but the thwart- 
 ing opposition of her mother and her friends brought her 
 to self-realisation. 
 
GREAT DAYS 211 
 
 After Selwyn had been rejected by Margaret he went 
 to Lady Barren to take his leave, and, expanding under her 
 flatteries, he confided to her that he had asked Margaret 
 to be his wife and she had refused him. Lady Barren was 
 so sympathetic that he could not help putting " a spoke," 
 as he termed it to himself, " in his rival's wheel." He told 
 Lady Barron that Margaret and Jack were always meeting, 
 and the village folk were talking. He did not mean to 
 suggest that Margaret was in love with a man so far beneath 
 her, but the fellow was glib, and Margaret was very young, 
 and a firm hand was needed, or else. . . . 
 
 Selwyn went away congratulating himself on having made 
 Jack's path difficult, if not impossible. He had, in fact, 
 made it easier. 
 
 As soon as he left her Lady Barron sent for Margaret 
 and gave her what she called " a good talking to." She 
 was, indeed, both surprised and indignant that any girl 
 could hesitate for a moment between Selwyn and Morgan, 
 and the fact that Morgan was married enabled her to point 
 her remonstrance with contemptuous sarcasms that made 
 Margaret wince and rage. She ended by saying that 
 Margaret must promise not to meet Morgan any more. 
 Margaret refused point blank ; she would not give up her 
 friend because fools like Selwyn imagined evil in friendly 
 talks. 
 
 When pressed and tormented she admitted that she liked 
 Jack, liked him greatly, which confession brought her mother 
 to exasperation and a flood of tears : she was deserted in 
 life ; her husband ill and unable to help her, her daughter 
 running after a married man, who was not even a gentleman, 
 and so forth and so on interminably. 
 
212 GREAT DAYS 
 
 The whole scene seemed to Margaret degrading. To 
 put an end to it she gave in to the extent of saying she 
 would treat Jack more coldly, would not make meetings 
 with him, and would give no reason for scandalous gossip. 
 
 Lady Barron had sense enough to be content with this 
 assurance, and the firstfruit of it was that Margaret hurried 
 past Jack with a preternaturally cold greeting, for she was 
 afraid, if she heard his voice, it would be impossible to 
 keep her promise to her mother. As it was, the first effort 
 to keep it flushed her face with anger and passionate revolt 
 against the conventionalities and affections which encaged 
 her. 
 
 She understood at once that to miss the walks and talks 
 with Jack would be very hard to bear ; they had meant 
 so much to her in every way that she could not contem- 
 plate the dullness of daily life unrelieved by the hope of 
 seeing and speaking to him. She hoped he would not notice 
 her coldness, or at least would pay no attention to it, and 
 would force a meeting. She intended to keep to the strict 
 letter of her promise, but if she met Jack by chance she 
 resolved to tell him everything. She could not lose him 
 utterly ; that was not to be thought of. The knowledge 
 that he had never even kissed her made her revolt reasonable 
 to her : her life must not be hurt and maimed by evil- 
 minded, prejudiced busybodies. 
 
GREAT DAYS 213 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 JACK had begun to drink. At first on rare occasions, 
 after getting wet through on deck, or when chilled 
 by half a night passed in an open boat. Almost 
 insensibly the occasions became more numerous, till it grew 
 to be a custom with him to drink as freely as Knight or 
 Gosport drank. In the year after his marriage, the year 
 spent in smuggling, he took to drinking more. Little by 
 little he had got a taste for it ; he liked good French 
 Bordeaux with his meals ; he enjoyed a glass of brandy 
 afterwards. 
 
 Once in Bordeaux and once in the inn he had drunk 
 a good deal, and discovered that he could drink more than 
 most men without being drunk. This flattered the petty 
 vanity in him, and now that his larger vanities and am- 
 bitions were hemmed in and deprived of outlet, this smaller 
 conceit had disproportionate influence : he was proud of 
 being able to take a great deal too much without being 
 drunk. Usually now he had three or four nightcaps, as 
 they were called, in the inn parlour before he went to 
 bed, and often he drank freely at dinner, and even earlier 
 in the day. 
 
 Crosby and Myring had resumed the habit of visiting 
 the bar nearly every evening, and Nugent often dropped 
 in as well. About half-past ten or eleven o'clock his father 
 
2i 4 GREAT DAYS 
 
 and Nancy used to come in, and they would end up with 
 a couple of drinks all round while listening to a song by 
 Weetman or to a new story or tidbit of scandal. 
 
 Crosby was in some respects an amusing companion : 
 he had a great fund of loose anecdotes, which he told with 
 a good deal of spirit ; and some of them had a bitter 
 humour or a tang of reality which pinned them to the 
 memory. 
 
 One afternoon Jack noticed Crosby whispering to Nancy 
 in the bar. It came to him as an after-thought that the 
 couple seemed confidential, but he put it out of his head 
 easily enough, for Crosby had never shown himself in better 
 spirits than on that occasion. He began by telling two or 
 three stories which are unprintable, but which brought his 
 audience into the right humour to appreciate anything he 
 might say, and then he related what he called " a personal 
 experience." 
 
 Two women, it appeared, had been quarrelling down at 
 the port as he passed ; one had a little girl about seven 
 years old at her side. With arms akimbo the pair of viragoes 
 barked at each other in the first round, so to speak, without 
 mentioning names. Suddenly the woman without the child 
 spoke directly to the other woman. 
 
 " Ye think a lot of yourself, Mrs. Jones," she cried, and 
 proceeded to pour out a flood of reproaches. The little 
 girl plucked her mother by the apron, and with her small 
 face white with hatred cried : 
 
 " Call her a b cow, mother, before she has time to 
 
 call you it." 
 
 The humour of the thing made the little incident un- 
 forgettable to Jack. 
 
GREAT DAYS 215 
 
 Suddenly he heard Nugent and Crosby talking of Miss 
 Barron. 
 
 " She's made a sensation at Court," Nugent said, in 
 some surprise ; " it appears she's a great amateur actress, 
 has been taken up by Lady Salisbury, and is one of the 
 Pic-Nics. I hear she's going to marry my Lord Mandeville." 
 
 At once Jack grew cold as ice. 
 
 " That's an old story," Crosby broke in. " Selwyn swore 
 they were engaged a month ago. Mandeville's mad after 
 her." 
 
 " It's a great match for her," said Myring pompously ; 
 " we all know the property is heavily dipped. Young Cecil 
 can't keep away from the * bones.' ' 
 
 " He's so vain," explained Crosby ; " if you flatter him 
 you can do anything with him." 
 
 " I met him the other day," Nugent went on, " in 
 St. James's Street, rather white and shaky, but as nice- 
 looking as ever and very pleasant mannered, poor devil." 
 
 " How'll he get the money," said Crosby, " to pay these 
 last losses ? He told me when he was last at The Court 
 that he had nothing left except the hope of a marriage, 
 and heiresses aren't plentiful in these war times." 
 
 " I heard," said Nugent, " that Mandeville had promised 
 to pay all his debts when he marries Margaret, and young 
 Cecil is doing his best to bring the marriage off quickly." 
 
 " To play ' my lady ' will just suit her," flung out Crosby ; 
 " she's as proud as Lucifer." 
 
 Jack sat as if rooted to the settle ; every word they said 
 was printed in his brain. He was filled with sick fear ; the 
 news was probably true, and his next feeling was absolute 
 astonishment that the fact had such an effect upon him. 
 
2i6 GREAT DAYS 
 
 Next moment he was flooded with hot rage. It was like 
 Cecil's vain weakness, he felt, to have thrown his money 
 away and then wish to save himself by selling his sister. 
 Why did she let herself get talked about with Mandeville ? 
 But it was all his own fault, he reflected sadly. Now it 
 was too late. Why should not she flirt with Mandeville, 
 or indeed with anyone else she liked ? 
 
 Suddenly he remembered that he had been sent for by 
 his father to come to the inn that night. He had been 
 working all day to get the brigantine ready for sea, and 
 the message was that someone wanted to see him about 
 crossing to France. He did not care where he went so long 
 as he could go away at once. 
 
 His rage of jealousy was so maddening, his pain at the 
 thought of Margaret's marriage so extraordinarily acute, 
 he could not sit still. He got up as if to go out. He was 
 afraid he would betray himself if he stayed any longer. 
 But in the nick of time Crosby called to him : 
 
 " W r hat are you running away for, Master Jack ? " 
 
 " Running away ! " he turned on him : he hated the 
 great fat fellow with his sneering face. " I'm tired of sitting 
 over one cup for an hour," he retorted ; " if you'll drink 
 I'll drink with you ; if not, I'll go to bed." 
 
 " Drink ! " cried Crosby. " I could drink you under the 
 table in an hour if you'd drink fair." 
 
 " I'll back you, Crosby," cried Nugent, " at wine or 
 anything else. Who is to call the drinks ? " 
 
 " Crosby can," said Jack. " I'll drink anything." 
 
 " Let's begin with a couple of bottles of claret, and let 
 the loser pay," cried Crosby ; " though already I'm more 
 than a bottle ahead of you." 
 
GREAT DAYS 217 
 
 The first bottles were poured down at once, and then 
 Crosby chose brandy, and later punch. And all the time, 
 instead of getting hotter or more excited, Jack got colder 
 and colder and more miserable. The pain seemed to grow 
 in him ; his heart was like lead, and he noticed everything 
 that took place with preternatural clearness. He saw that 
 the moment they came to the brandy Nugent began 
 managing himself, making one glass do for two or three ; 
 and when Crosby shouted for punch Nugent remained 
 with a single rummer before him, which he hardly 
 sipped. 
 
 Meanwhile Crosby gave reins to his dislike of Jack. 
 
 " Your wife'll get angry with you," he began, " if she 
 knows you're drinking." 
 
 Jack did not trouble even to answer. 
 
 A little later he pointed to a splash of wine on the table 
 near Jack : 
 
 " You'll want one of your French hand cloths soon for 
 your own mouth," he said. 
 
 " It would take more than a hand cloth to clean yours." 
 
 Again and again the antagonism between the two 
 threatened to break into acts, but some word of Nugent's 
 or the entrance of the pot-boy with fresh drinks changed 
 the current of feeling. As he became more excited Crosby's 
 hatred of Jack found irritating expression. 
 
 " Let's drink to the king, damme ! " he cried, with 
 flaming red face, " and to hell with Boney and his frog- 
 eaters." 
 
 For some reason or other the words showed Jack the 
 bestiality of the whole contest. Such wagers were always 
 regarded as ordinary amusements, but his instinct revolted. 
 
218 GREAT DAYS 
 
 He had already drunk enough, too much indeed ; he would 
 seize the pretext and cut the whole affair. 
 
 " Toasts weren't in the bargain," he replied, " and I 
 won't drink them." 
 
 " You are afraid you'll be beaten," cried Crosby, " or 
 else you are a traitor, by God ! Every true Englishman 
 would drink that toast." 
 
 " I won't," replied Jack, " and I have drunk enough." 
 And he got up to go. 
 
 " If you don't stay and drink it out," roared Crosby, 
 " you're a coward and beaten." 
 
 " That's right," cried Myring, " drink it out, by God ! 
 No true Englishman runs away." 
 
 " Here's hell to all cowards," cried Crosby, getting up 
 and waving his glass above his head in the air, and distri- 
 buting its contents impartially over the table and Nugent, 
 who was seated next him. 
 
 Jack laughed. Crosby's insult did not even excite his 
 anger. As he left the room his own misery came over him 
 in a wave ; he felt so wretched that everything else went 
 out of his mind. He did not even dare to think of the 
 cause of his heartache. 
 
 He went out in the air. In half an hour he came back 
 to the inn again, and found the whole place in disorder. 
 
 Crosby, it appeared, in his exultation had drunk rummer 
 after rummer of punch to Jack's defeat, and had finally 
 succumbed. He had fallen back in his chair, and from the 
 chair to the ground, and Nugent and Myring had called 
 in the pot-boy. Though both of them could stand, they 
 were too drunk to do more than offer advice ; but as Jack 
 passed the door the pot-boy had loosened Crosby's cravat, 
 
GREAT DAYS 219 
 
 and flung the window open. The cold air finished what 
 the punch had begun. In two minutes Crosby was carried 
 upstairs and thrown on a bed, and Jack went out again. 
 
 Had he drunk much ? He did not know ; he was as 
 sober as ever he had been in his life. Was she really going 
 to be married ? He pictured her as she had come towards 
 him at The Court, with frank liking and eyes that held his. 
 He must not think of it, or he would scream with pain. 
 What could he do to get away from the torturing thoughts ? 
 . . . What was in his memory ? Someone had wanted 
 to see him. Who ? He would see him now, anything 
 rather than think. He turned and went back to the inn. 
 Where was his father ? Had he gone to bed ? 
 
 " Who wants me ? " he asked Nancy, who was shutting 
 up. 
 
 " Two gentlemen from London who have number four 
 sitting-room," she said ; " they sent down an hour ago, 
 but you wouldn't listen." 
 
 " I'll go now," said Jack, " if you'll give me a quart 
 of hot water to drink first." 
 
 " You'd better go to bed," she rejoined, " you look as 
 if you were going to be ill ; but you can have all the hot 
 water you want," and she poured out a jugful from the 
 kettle and set it before him. 
 
 " I'm all right now," he said, a moment or two later, 
 and, in fact, the jugful of hot water calmed his nerves 
 and cleared his thoughts in an incredible way. " What 
 did the men want ? " he asked Nancy ; " can you tell 
 me ? " 
 
 " They want to cross to France early in the morning," 
 she replied. 
 
220 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " That's it, is it ? " cried Jack ; " but why don't they 
 go by Dover ? " 
 
 " Ask them," Nancy flung back. 
 
 Jack went upstairs and knocked at the door. 
 
 " Come in," he heard. 
 
 Two men were seated before the fire, and behind them 
 a table covered with glasses and bottles. A young man 
 dressed in the extreme of fashion turned to the door as 
 Jack entered ; the other, a very fat man, went on talking 
 as if to himself rather than to his companion. 
 
 " I want to see Paris with my own eyes, and Bonaparte, 
 and find out whether Burke was right or not. . . . 
 It's a mad world, but it looks to me as if the French had 
 done right in getting rid of king and nobles. Who's 
 that ? " he cried, hearing Jack speak, and starting round 
 in his chair to look at him. 
 
 Jack was caught at once by the air of careless authority 
 in the man's speech and manner. He was very fat and 
 red-faced, with a Jewish cast of countenance a thick, 
 beaked nose, and heavy, pursed lips. He was very ill- 
 dressed, his cravat untied and dirty, his shirt dirty, too ; 
 his fat, heavy jowl blue-black and bristly. Yet somehow 
 or other the eyes redeemed the face ; they were dark and 
 not over large, but full of life, lambent, and the strong, 
 rich voice stirred one like the eyes. 
 
 " Who are you ? " he cried again, " and what d'ye 
 want ? " 
 
 " They tell me," said Jack, " you want to get to France 
 in the morning. I suppose you'll go to Dover. There's 
 a fast schooner starts at nine will take you across probably 
 by the afternoon." 
 
GREAT DAYS 221 
 
 " Don't want to go by Dover," cried the fat man, " want 
 to go from here. There are boats, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Not many," said Jack. 
 
 " One'll do ; we want to cross to-morrow." 
 
 " That's a question of money," replied Jack. 
 
 " By God ! " cried the fat man, laughing heartily, " most 
 things are a question of money, and it isn't as common 
 with me now as it used to be before I went to the Jews. 
 Do you remember, Holland," he cried to his companion, 
 " when I used to call my ante-room Jerusalem Chamber ? 
 Great race, the Jews," he laughed, as if talking to himself ; 
 " they've invented book-keeping by double entry, and, not 
 content with cheating us in this world, they reckon to 
 cheat God in the next, having brought Him in a debtor 
 to them for everlasting bliss. Ha ! Ha ! Ha ! " 
 
 His voice was so rich, his laughter so infectious, the 
 humour of his lightning-quick speech so taking, that Jack 
 laughed, too ; in spite of his heavy heart he had never 
 been more interested. The man must be someone of im- 
 portance, he felt sure, for speech transformed him ; ' no 
 one could help feeling his charm. 
 
 " How much d'ye want to ferry us over ? " he cried 
 suddenly. 
 
 " Nothing, if you'll start now," returned Jack, " for I 
 want to go ; ten pounds apiece if you wait till the morning." 
 
 " What are you in such a devil of a hurry for ? " asked 
 the fat man lazily. 
 
 " That's my business." 
 
 " Come, come," said the other, " let's have a punch, 
 and tell us why you want to start to-night." 
 
 " I've nothing to tell, and I've drunk all I want to drink." 
 
222 GREAT DAYS 
 
 For the first time the younger man interfered in the 
 conversation. 
 
 " Is it quite safe, do you think, to go to France in these 
 days ? " he questioned Jack. 
 
 " As safe as London," replied Jack ; " safer, in my 
 opinion." 
 
 " H'm," said the exquisite, " the revolutionary spirit 
 hasn't died out completely, we're told." 
 
 " It will not die out for many a year to come," said 
 Jack, " thank God." 
 
 " You know France, then ? " cried the fat man, looking 
 at him in surprise. 
 
 " A little of it." 
 
 " You speak French ? " 
 
 " At your service," said Jack, using the French idiom. 
 
 " Who the devil are you ? " cried the fat man, starting 
 up in his chair. "You sympathise with the revolutionary 
 spirit and yet are English, aren't you ? " 
 
 " I'm the son of the inn-keeper," replied Jack, " but I 
 have been a good deal in France, and know it pretty well." 
 
 " And like it, too, it seems ? " 
 
 " Very much," replied Jack. 
 
 " You're one in ten thousand then," cried the fat man, 
 " and we must have a talk, by God ! Here, Holland, you 
 go off to bed," he flung out, " while I sit here and talk 
 to young what's yer name ? " 
 
 He was so genial that there was no hint of rudeness in 
 his off-hand manner ; one felt that he had never used 
 self-restraint, had always been allowed a large liberty. 
 
 Nothing loth, his companion lit a candle, and with a 
 " Good-night, Charles," left the room. 
 
GREAT DAYS 223 
 
 " Now sit down," cried the fat man, " pour yourself 
 out some wine, and tell me what you know of France. 
 You don't wear the bonnet rouge yourself eh ? " 
 
 " No," said Jack, " I don't need to ; but the red cap 
 in France means better times for the poor." 
 
 " Freedom, eh ? " questioned the man. 
 
 " Not freedom, but equality," Jack replied. 
 
 " Now what the deuce do you mean by equality ? A 
 whoreson strange wild fowl that," cried the fat man, 
 laughing. 
 
 " I mean," said Jack, " that thousands of people are now 
 getting the land of France for themselves, the land which 
 a few nobles used to hold as a game preserve." 
 
 The fat man's eyes narrowed in thought as he looked 
 at him. 
 
 " I see, I see," he said slowly, " and you think that a 
 good thing ? " 
 
 " Surely," replied Jack, " it's better to raise corn than 
 game, and men and women instead of servants." 
 
 " By God ! " cried the fat man, " you're a philosopher, 
 my young friend ! " 
 
 " No," said Jack, thinking of Sauvan, " but I've talked 
 to some who can think." 
 
 " And what do you make of Bonaparte ? " questioned 
 the fat man. 
 
 " I don't know much about him," Jack replied, " but 
 the governor of the prison where I was thinks him the 
 greatest man that ever lived ; and he certainly never for- 
 gets the men who fought with him in the beginning of his 
 career." 
 
 " A weak trait, but a good 'un," cried the fat man ; 
 
224 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " the best I've ever heard about him. But he doesn't care 
 much for your equality, it seems. He says the French 
 don't want liberty or equality, but honour and glory. 
 Have you heard of this new Order he has just established." 
 
 Jack shook his head. 
 
 " You know," said the fat man, " that all the Orders 
 which used to be in France were abolished with the titles 
 of nobility, but now Bonaparte has invented one that 
 he calls the Order of the Legion of Honour. It's the 
 latest news in town ! . . . The desire to possess it is 
 extravagant, it seems. Men will do more for a bit of 
 ribbon," he added, as if talking to himself, " or a title, 
 than they will for money. I wonder sometimes we don't 
 use honour more as a reward for extraordinary service." 
 He seemed to have forgotten that Jack was in the room. 
 " I've often thought we should, and now this Bonaparte 
 does it an able man, probably." 
 
 " But who are you," cried Jack, " who know more about 
 France than I do, though I was in it last week ? " 
 
 The man with the authoritative, laughing eyes paused. 
 " My name's Fox," he said, with a sort of careless aloofness. 
 
 " Charles James Fox ? " cried Jack. 
 
 " The same, if it pleases you." 
 
 " I've always wanted to meet you," cried Jack. " I'm 
 glad even to see you ; I've heard much of you." 
 
 " Nothing good, I'm afraid," said Fox, yawning. 
 
 " Much," said Jack. " In the Westminster election you 
 declared that we had no earthly reason to fight France, 
 and no right. You love France and hate war, and wouldn't 
 have anything to do with the Ministers who were making 
 
GREAT DAYS 225 
 
 " Simple truths," replied Mr. Fox, yawning ; but Jack 
 noticed that his eyes now were wary " simple truths 
 always unacceptable. . . ." 
 
 Seeing the question in Jack's face he went on : " Florid 
 fictions are what the majority of men love. But you'll 
 keep my secret, won't you ? not tell my name, I mean, 
 to anyone, for Lord Holland, my companion, thinks that 
 if we're known there may be some unpleasantness. 
 
 " It looks," he continued, with the careless confidence 
 of one who has never had to mince his words, " as if we 
 should have war again shortly, and I want to see for myself 
 what the state of France is. I used to know Paris pretty 
 well." 
 
 " I know nothing about Paris," said Jack, " but you'll 
 find France greatly improved. The country is getting 
 very prosperous : there is a new spirit everywhere ; men 
 are better off than they ever were before ; there's happi- 
 ness and hope in the very air." 
 
 "Really," cried Mr. Fox, "that's news, indeed. How 
 have they taken their defeats by us on the seas ? " 
 
 " They don't think of them," replied Jack ; " they have 
 so many triumphs on land," he added, " to put against 
 them." 
 
 " That seems natural," cried Mr. Fox. " You've got 
 a pair of eyes in your head, my young friend, and have 
 used them to good purpose. But we can have another 
 talk to-morrow," he added, and with that he got up, 
 yawning, and began busying himself with his candle. 
 
 Jack took it as a hint that he was to go. " Good-night," 
 he said, as he went to the door, " I hope you will sleep 
 well." 
 
 Q 
 
226 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " Good-night, good-night," Mr. Fox threw back care- 
 lessly ; " we'll start after dinner if that suits you." 
 
 " I will suit myself to your pleasure," said Jack respect- 
 fully, for this man, he felt, deserved respect. " Good- 
 night," again he added, as he closed the door. 
 
 But even before he had reached his own bedroom he 
 became conscious again of the sick pain, the uneasy fear 
 at his heart. He went into his room and sat down by the 
 bed. He noticed now that his head was throbbing, his 
 eyes burning, his mouth afire. He went over to the water 
 jug and drained it. . . 
 
 He felt tired to death, unutterably depressed. What 
 a mess he had made of his life ! Why had he got into that 
 intrigue with Suzanne ? His father was right, he should 
 never have married her. Married her was he married ? 
 What was she to him I He saw quite clearly now that he 
 cared more for Caressa than for his niece, that it was to 
 spare Caressa pain that he had married. He laughed aloud : 
 who would ever believe it ? ... 
 
 He had wrecked his whole life simply to avoid hurting 
 a friend. Was his father right ? Might he have married 
 Margaret ? Hope crept into him. Why not ? Perhaps. 
 . . . Then the sick fear again. My Lord Mandeville ! 
 Damn my Lord. . . . 
 
 So that was Fox, the first man in England, even in 
 Opposition ; a bold, genial man. 
 
 He had always heard of him as a great dandy. In his 
 retirement Fox had gone to the other extreme ; his hands 
 were filthy, his cravat frayed, his face could not have been 
 shaved for a week ; grotesquely fat, too, yet there was 
 power in him. But beyond an easy air of authority Jack , 
 
GREAT DAYS 227 
 
 felt, with a certain exhilaration, that the famous statesman 
 was not much his superior. He had a careless, off-hand 
 air as of one accustomed to be flattered and obeyed. But 
 he had said nothing extraordinary. An able man, yes ; 
 fine Yoice, fine eyes. . . . 
 
 Again Jack began to feel his head throbbing, and being 
 determined to be at his best on the morrow to meet Mr. 
 Fox, he went downstairs to the kitchen and poured himself 
 out a gallon of nearly boiling water and brought it upstairs 
 and began to drink it while undressing. As he got into 
 bed sweating hot the drink had its way and he fell into 
 heavy sleep. 
 
228 GREAT DAYS 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THANKS to his youth and the state of excitement 
 he had been in, and perhaps a little to his hot- 
 water cure, Jack woke with nothing but a slight 
 swimming in his head, which left him as soon as he got 
 into the open air. 
 
 Though the miserable feeling of depression and remorse 
 lay heavy upon him, still he put aside his self-reproachings 
 for the time being and busied himself with the prepara- 
 tions for departure. Lord Holland was down early and 
 saw that the baggage was all handed over to Jack to be 
 taken on board the Dolphin. But Mr. Fox did not make 
 his appearance till nearly two o'clock, and then he sat 
 down to an enormous dinner and a couple of bottles of the 
 best Burgundy in the cellar. He was not fat without good 
 reason. He did not show his nose outside the door till 
 nearly five o'clock ; then he had nothing but a good- 
 humoured nod for Jack, who had been waiting for him 
 for several long hours. When he saw the Dolphin he seemed 
 doubtful whether he should trust himself on board. 
 
 " Is she big enough to carry me, do you think ? " he 
 asked Jack, with a comical look. 
 
 Jack laughed in reply. 
 
 " I weigh seventeen stone, you know. We all run to 
 fat ; my brother's just as fat happy-go-lucky tempera- 
 
GREAT DAYS 229 
 
 ment, I suppose ; we see nothing in life worth worrying 
 about. It's a poor lottery, after all, and very few prizes 
 in it worth having. Few prizes, but a good many surprises, 
 by God ! and that's perhaps as interesting." 
 
 As he ran on in this way it seemed to Jack that the 
 man's gift was one of speech rather than of mind. One 
 phrase brought another. He was extraordinarily articulate, 
 thought Jack, a little envious of such superiority, for the 
 reflection came to him at once that perhaps this gift of 
 speech was all-important ; it was assuredly the main differ- 
 ence between man and the other animals. 
 
 As soon as he got on board Mr. Fox threw himself into 
 a big chair which Jack had provided for him near the 
 companion on the weather side, and there he remained 
 lost in his own thoughts, or silent out of mere indolence, 
 till they reached Calais about ten o'clock that night. The 
 wind was nearly fair and Jack fetched the harbour with 
 one tack. 
 
 As the uncle and nephew were getting into the boat 
 to be put on shore Lord Holland gave Jack a roll of guineas 
 done up in paper, but Jack gave it to him back. 
 
 " Thanks," he said, " but it has been pleasure enough 
 to me to have talked to Mr. Fox." 
 
 He stepped forward to give an order, and when he 
 returned Lord Holland had got into the boat and Mr. Fox 
 was preparing to follow him. 
 
 " I want to thank you for your trouble, Mr. Morgan," 
 he said, " but here's the price agreed on. I could not 
 think of using your vessel and wasting your time for nothing." 
 
 " Don't ask me to take it," said Jack, drawing back, 
 " I'm proud to have had you on board." 
 
230 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " Come, come," said Mr. Fox, " you don't take it from 
 me ; it isn't mine, I have nothing. Take my advice, my 
 young friend : always accept money whenever you can get 
 it, and never give it unless you must, and so your days 
 will be long in the land." With that he thrust the money 
 into his hand and went down the companion steps into 
 the boat, and so ended for Jack a very memorable experi- 
 ence. 
 
 The brigantine, which had not been ready when he left 
 Hurstpoint, was ready when he returned, and Jack im- 
 mediately took her for another trip to Bordeaux. The 
 shipping of the town, which had fallen off enormously 
 during the war with England, was now improving by 
 leaps and bounds, though the change from Jack's first 
 visit was still noticeable : then there had been all along 
 the bend of the Garonne for four miles a forest of English 
 masts ; now there were not half so many loading, and 
 only a few dozen vessels peppered about the stream ready 
 to start. But business was growing. One felt everywhere 
 the brisk animation, the noise and activity and cheerful- 
 ness of a great port. Jack was amused to see that the little 
 armed schooner of the douaniers, the garde-ccUs, as it was 
 called, or coastguard vessel, had begun to keep again all 
 the ceremonies and etiquette of a man-o'-war of the first 
 class. 
 
 Jack went up to the old Hotel d'Angleterre, but he had 
 some difficulty in finding it, for the proprietor had changed 
 the name. The very word England was so hated that he 
 had re-christened his house Prince's Hotel for the moment : 
 even in such democratic times an aristocratic name was 
 still preferred by the acute tradesman. 
 
GREAT DAYS 231 
 
 Jack gave a little dinner there to Gosport and Riding, 
 which he began with oysters and Sauterne ; but he was 
 amused to find that Gosport thought the white wine too thin. 
 
 He went to the theatre afterwards and saw Moliere's 
 Le Medecin Malgre Lui. The theatre was half empty, in 
 spite of the fact that the play was followed by a ballet ; 
 he was informed by the ouvreuse that the Bordelais never 
 went to the theatre on Saturday. The next night he went 
 to a comic opera called Cendrillon, and among the numbers 
 which most amused the people was one that began, Bon 
 Voyage, Dumollet, and was then being hummed from one 
 end of France to the other. As soon as the orchestra took 
 up the tune the whole audience joined in and began singing : 
 
 Bon Voyage, 
 Cher Dumollet, 
 Et revenez 
 Si le pays vous plait. 
 
 Jack could not help thinking of the change from the 
 Ca Ira and the " Marseillaise " of only a few years before* 
 The majority of men cannot live long on high levels. 
 
 But in spite of dinners and plays and music his depression 
 seemed to deepen. He was as miserable in Bordeaux as he 
 had been in Hurstpoint more miserable, indeed, and he 
 was glad to start back again. 
 
 As soon as he reached Hurstpoint he heard of great 
 doings at The Court. Cecil was there with his sister, it 
 appeared, and they had the famous and voluminous Albina, 
 Lady Buckinghamshire, staying with them, and Lord Barry- 
 more, the notorious " Skiffy," too, and the dwarfish Lord 
 Valletort, to say nothing of Lord Mandeville and other 
 exquisites. 
 
232 GREAT DAYS 
 
 Jack took to wandering about the roads and lanes that 
 led to The Court, hoping to see Margaret. One afternoon 
 he saw her coming towards him on horseback with a young 
 man by her side, and two or three others behind them, all 
 talking and laughing. Jack stood aside to let them pass, 
 but, when about fifty yards away, the young man leant 
 towards Margaret with a sort of proprietor air which set 
 Jack's blood on fire. He stepped into the road at once, 
 and Margaret reined up. 
 
 " One word," he said. 
 
 Margaret turned to her companions. " An old friend," 
 she said. " If you will ride on I will overtake you in a 
 few minutes." 
 
 " We will wait for you," said the young horseman, 
 bowing low. 
 
 " What is it ? " asked Margaret, as soon as the others 
 were out of earshot. 
 
 " Nothing," said Jack, the sense of his misery coming 
 over him again irresistibly : " I had no right to stop you 
 or interfere with your enjoyment." 
 
 " Why phrases ? " Margaret snapped shortly. " I'm 
 always willing to talk to you, you know that." Taking in 
 his whole attitude of sad depression she went on : " Your 
 wife has gone back to France, I hear ? " (Jack nodded.) 
 " I meant to call to see her alone," said Margaret, " and 
 convince her she was mistaken about me. It's absurd 
 of two women quarrelling like that. She had nothing to 
 be jealous of really nothing ! " 
 
 Margaret evidently spoke in good faith, but her earnest- 
 ness was the last straw. Jack drew back at once. 
 
 " Nothing," he repeated bitterly, nursing the pain 
 " nothing ! " 
 
GREAT DAYS 233 
 
 Margaret's face flushed. " You're determined to mis- 
 understand me," she cried angrily, and touched her horse 
 with the whip. 
 
 Jack saw her join the rest and disappear down the road ; 
 he felt that all was over between them. In some way or 
 other he had blundered again and angered her, even when 
 she had meant to be kind. He gave himself to remorse 
 and despair. 
 
 It was Riding who first shook him out of his misery. 
 He had gone to the brigantine to distract himself, and had 
 begun to drink by himself in the cabin when Riding came 
 down the companion. He made several attempts to talk, 
 but Jack answered him in monosyllables. Riding had 
 watched him for a long time, and was more than a little 
 anxious about him. He did not know the cause of his 
 melancholy brooding. But he liked Jack for his brightness, 
 generosity, and quickness, and he wanted to rouse him if 
 he could. He felt it would do Jack good to be forced to 
 exertf himself. 
 
 " Look here," he said at length, " I want to talk to you. 
 Won't you listen to me and stop drinking." 
 
 " Does my drink prevent your talking ? " Jack flung 
 back. 
 
 " No, no," said Riding ; " at the same time I wish you 
 wouldn't drink so." 
 
 " Go ahead," Jack whipped out, " and don't preach." 
 
 " You told me once," Riding continued, " and I can 
 never forget it, for it was the day you gave me the five 
 hundred pounds tjiat put me on my feet ; you told me 
 then that your father had given you twenty-five thousand 
 pounds to put in the Funds, and you were going to the 
 
234 GREAT DAYS 
 
 Bank of England next day to write your name down as 
 the holder of them. Did you do that ? " 
 
 " I don't know," said Jack. 
 
 " Please try to remember," insisted Riding, " it's im- 
 portant." 
 
 " I can't remember," barked Jack. " I don't care a 
 damn whether I did or did not." 
 
 " You must care a little now," said Riding, " or you'll 
 care a great deal later when you find yourself left without 
 a penny." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " I mean," continued Riding, " your father is not the 
 man he was. When a man of sixty odd marries a young 
 woman he's apt to age quickly." 
 
 " That's his look-out," said Jack heedlessly. 
 
 " I know, I know," cried Riding, " but it's your look-out 
 to know that his wife's got a good deal of money from 
 him already, and if you don't do something she'll have 
 it all." 
 
 " I hope it'll do her good," cried heedless Jack. 
 
 " Your father," pursued Riding, " is being made a fool 
 of. You surely don't want to see Crosby one day sitting 
 in your place as master of the inn, enjoying the fortune 
 you have helped to make." 
 
 " Crosby ? " cried Jack, the name lighting up the old 
 antagonism in him and driving away the fumes of drink. 
 " Crosby ! " He pushed the brandy from him and took 
 a huge drink of water instead. " What's he got to do 
 with it ? " 
 
 " Keep your eyes open," said Riding, " and you'll soon 
 
GREAT DAYS 235 
 
 " How came you to see ? " asked Jack suspiciously. 
 
 " A good deal of gossip's going about," said Riding, 
 " and I keep my ears open to everything which concerns 
 you. Take my advice : if you won't watch yourself, have 
 a talk one day with Gretta Knight. She knows all about 
 it. I wouldn't let Crosby beat me if I were you." 
 
 Unwittingly Riding had done Jack more good than he 
 intended. The introduction of Crosby's name had roused 
 Jack's antagonism and given him something to think of, 
 something to combat, and so weaned his thoughts from 
 his own misery and regrets. 
 
 When Jack left the vessel he made up his mind to see 
 Gretta Knight at once, and Riding told him where he 
 would be likely to find her. He went and met her on her 
 way home from the inn. 
 
 He got into talk with her and began flattering her. In 
 a little while he discovered that she hated Nancy, and 
 then the whole story came out. Nancy, it appeared, 
 disliked Jack because he paid her no attention, and she 
 liked Crosby, and had bragged that she had already got 
 the inn and most of the money from the old man. 
 
 " She's a dirty cat," said Gretta, " and as stingy as she 
 can be. She'd never have let on a word if she hadn't been 
 drinking with Crosby one night." 
 
 " But you like Crosby," said Jack to her, with a new 
 suspicion in his mind. 
 
 " He's pleasant company and that's all," replied Gretta 
 sharply, tossing her head, " though he's made up to me 
 often enough when Nancy wasn't looking." 
 
 " Do you think he's trying to get money out of my 
 father ? " asked Jack. 
 
236 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " Of course he is," Gretta replied ; " every time you 
 go away they try to get some more." 
 
 " Has that been going on long ? " questioned Jack. 
 
 " Since before the marriage. Crosby's always with 
 Nancy. When your father is at his dinner in the parlour 
 Nancy is in and out pretending to see that things are 
 cooked as he likes, but really to be with Crosby. I only 
 wonder you haven't seen it all. She's mad after him, and 
 they're as bold as bold now. I've seen 'em kissing to-night, 
 and Crosby with his hands on her as no decent woman 
 would allow." 
 
 Walking along Jack thought the matter over. He knew 
 Gretta's vain little venal soul almost by heart. 
 
 " It isn't everyone who has your big eyes, Gretta," he 
 said, " or your cleverness." 
 
 " Oh, Master Jack," she smirked, " I've always liked you, 
 you know." 
 
 " Well, Gretta," he concluded, " perhaps you'll let me 
 know if you hear anything important. In the meantime 
 take this for your trouble," and he gave her the two or 
 three gold pieces he had about him. 
 
 " You never kiss me now, Master Jack," pouted Gretta. 
 " Fve grown ugly, I suppose, with all the work." 
 
 In answer, Jack kissed her, and as he turned back to the 
 inn he could hear Gretta singing as she went on her way 
 home. 
 
 What was to be done ? Characteristically enough Jack 
 took the direct way : he went straight back to the inn. 
 On the road he made up his mind what to do. He still 
 had the lease of The Grange and often slept there. He 
 would hire a cook and give a dinner there to his father, 
 
GREAT DAYS 237 
 
 and have a long, quiet talk with him. In the meantime 
 he would keep his eyes open. 
 
 When he got to the inn he felt instinctively that all 
 Gretta had told him was the truth. 
 
 His father was in the kitchen. Crosby was standing 
 between the door leading from the parlour to the bar, 
 talking to Nancy. Jack asked his father casually would 
 he come and dine with him some night ? The old man 
 looked at him as if surprised, the grey eyes narrowing with 
 suspicion. 
 
 " Why can't we dine here ? " he asked. 
 
 " I think there's going to be war soon," said Jack, in- 
 venting a story on the spur of the moment. " Mr. Fox 
 thought so, and I want to talk with you. I want to bring 
 Riding as well." 
 
 " Why not bring him here ? " persisted his father. 
 
 " I think you might come when I ask you," said Jack, 
 a little annoyed. " I want a quiet talk." 
 
 The old man smiled slowly. "All right," he replied, 
 " I'll come. But now, I think, I'll turn in." 
 
 It was a cold night and, as luck would have it, the fire 
 went out in the parlour, and Nugent and Myring and 
 Crosby all adjourned to the kitchen, where Jack was sitting. 
 Luckily or unluckily the talk turned on the doings at The 
 Court, and Crosby announced that Miss Margaret was 
 doing her best to hook Lord Mandeville. 
 
 Jack said nothing, but all his blood was aflame, and his 
 anger may have shown itself in his face, for Crosby deter- 
 mined to tease him. 
 
 "The date of the marriage must be very near," said 
 Nugent, " for Cecil has money again." 
 
238 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " If money has passed, there'll be no marriage," said 
 Crosby, with a great laugh. 
 
 The insult was vile, but Jack kept quiet. In all the 
 turmoil of his thoughts there was the idea that he must 
 not bring Margaret's name into the row. 
 
 A little later Crosby gave him the opportunity he wanted. 
 " Are you fitting the brigantino out to fight, Master Jack ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 As Myring was in the room the question was indiscreet, 
 to say the best of it. Jack looked at him and smiled ; he 
 knew that the moment Was near. 
 
 " That can't interest you," he 6aid. 
 
 " Why not ? " said Crosby defiantly, catching the provo- 
 cation in Jack's tone. 
 
 " Because the only thing you'd fight," said Jack, laughing, 
 "is a bottle of brandy, and even then you'd be beaten." 
 
 To do him justice Crosby was not a coward, and he was 
 conscious, besides, of his great strength. 
 
 " I don't fight with toothpicks," he snorted, alluding 
 contemptuously to Jack's sword, " but I'm not afraid of 
 any man here in English fashion with fists." 
 
 " Your mouth's your strong point," retorted Jack bitterly. 
 
 " Come out and try it with fists," cried Crosby. 
 
 " We needn't go out," said Jack, getting up. 
 
 " Don't let them fight," cried Nancy, shutting the door 
 so that the noise should not be heard, and appealing alter- 
 nately to Myring and to Nugent. " Don't let them fight, 
 for God's sake ! " 
 
 But neither man attempted to interfere, and she could 
 do nothing but put her back against the door and wait. 
 
 " I meant giving it you when we were at school," said 
 
GREAT DAYS 239 
 
 Crosby viciously, while pulling off his coat, " but you'll 
 lose nothing by waiting." 
 
 " You great lout," replied Jack ; and the next moment 
 Crosby swung at him. 
 
 Jack avoided it by stepping back, and then rushed in. 
 He had already decided how he would fight and, though 
 he had little or no practice with fists, his knowledge of 
 sword-play stood him in good stead, the principles of all 
 fighting being the same. He rained blows on that part 
 of his opponent's body that was nearest to him, his stomach, 
 and no tactics could have served him better, for his oppo- 
 nent was gross with over-eating. 
 
 He had soon driven Crosby right back across the kitchen, 
 and, before the big fellow could rally, his legs tripped over 
 a stool and he came on his back to the ground. 
 
 " Let him up," cried Myring. 
 
 " Yes, let him up," said Nugent, coming between them. 
 
 They were both minded to see that Crosby, at any rate, 
 had fair play. In a moment Crosby was on his feet again. 
 He was flushed and out of breath and a little ruffled, but 
 as confident in his strength as ever. He was very intelligent, 
 too, and fully realised that if he let Jack get close to him 
 he would surely be beaten. He resolved to step back and 
 use his fists in long swings like flails. This he did, and for 
 some time Jack saw no opening, had to give ground, indeed, 
 for Crosby kept swinging with both hands, and Jack, after 
 stopping one, felt that there was great force in the big 
 man's blows. 
 
 In turn Crosby kept driving him across the room, but 
 suddenly, after a heavier swing than usual, Jack saw his 
 chance and jumped in again, and again the fight turned 
 
2 4 o GREAT DAYS 
 
 at once in his favour. At half-arm's length he kept driving 
 his fists into Crosby's body as hard as he could, heedless 
 of the three or four cuffs that Crosby gave him about the 
 head and ears. 
 
 This time Crosby was driven across the room to the 
 wall, and once against the wall he exerted himself and 
 threw Jack off, and as Jack tried to rush in he met him 
 with a swing in the face that brought the blood streaming 
 from Jack's nose. 
 
 " Ha ! Ha ! " cried Crosby, exultant, " got it then, did 
 ye ? " and immediately followed up his success with swing 
 on swing. 
 
 Again Jack retreated, and a little later dodged beneath 
 the big man's fists and began punching him again. 
 
 For eight or ten minutes the fight went on in this way, 
 Jack gaining in the near fighting and Crosby at long bowls. 
 Condition began to tell ; thanks to his harder life and 
 more energetic nature Jack was in much better fettle 
 than his opponent. 
 
 " The little fellow is harder," said Myring to Nugent. 
 
 " Harder and quicker," rejoined Nugent, " gets in three 
 blows to Crosby's one. Our man's beginning to get groggy." 
 
 Nugent was right. Crosby's face had already turned 
 from red to pale ; those body blows of Jack's had driven 
 all the wind out of him, and he was beginning to feel the 
 effects of years of indolent living and too much drink. 
 
 But the great game has many chances in it, and no one 
 ever gets all the luck. Crosby was beginning to doubt the 
 issue, and fear made him think. In his turn, Jack was 
 getting over-confident, and so the pendulum of fortune 
 swung to Crosby's side. 
 
GREAT DAYS 241 
 
 When next he got Jack away from him he began to 
 make short jabs with his left hand while holding his right 
 in reserve. After twice or thrice evading the blows of 
 Crosby's left, Jack ducked and rushed in, and Crosby hit 
 out, viciously swinging his right with all his strength. 
 
 As luck would have it he caught Jack just on the point 
 of the chin, and at once felled him to the floor, his eyes 
 blinded with what seemed a glare of coloured lights. 
 
 When Jack came to himself he found that the cook had 
 got him into a chair and Nancy was giving him some brandy. 
 That was all he knew. 
 
 As the brandy began to run through him, and the blood 
 to stir again in his veins, he was conscious that Crosby 
 was in front of him. 
 
 " Have you had enough ? " cried Crosby, " or do you 
 want some more ? " 
 
 " All you can give me," replied Jack, pulling himself to 
 his feet. 
 
 " No, no," said Nancy, " you mustn't. Please, please, 
 gentlemen, stop them fighting; he can't stand," and, in- 
 deed, Jack could hardly hold himself upright ; the floor 
 was waving underneath him worse than a ship's deck 
 in a storm, and there was a deadly sick faintness on 
 him. 
 
 But Crosby, delighted at his unexpected success, and 
 having had time fully to realise the revulsion from fear to 
 joy, was determined to improve his victory. 
 
 " Leave him alone, Nancy," he said, " he's had enough ; 
 one blow's enough for him." 
 
 Jack's answer was a rush at him. The rush was so un- 
 expected that Crosby could only strike wildly. The blow 
 
242 GREAT DAYS 
 
 caught Jack on the shoulder, but he was so weak that it 
 knocked him down. 
 
 Strange to say the fall, instead of doing him harm, did 
 him good. When he got upon his feet again he felt stronger. 
 He realised at once clearly that all he had to do was to avoid 
 a crushing blow and he would get better quickly. 
 
 He rushed in again, ducking to avoid Crosby's swing, and 
 this time followed him across the kitchen, punching him 
 right and left. By the time he got him to the wall he found 
 his strength had come back. The fight was not over yet. 
 
 Helped by the wall Crosby thrust Jack back from him 
 and began again his long left-hand jabs, keeping the right 
 in reserve. 
 
 But now Jack was as cautious as Crosby. In a moment 
 or two he saw that if he ducked under his left hand he could 
 get in on that side and so avoid his opponent's right-hand 
 swing. 
 
 Again Crosby began to feel afraid ; his plan had been 
 countered, and he no longer had faith in it. He began 
 to fight wildly as he had done at first. Again and again 
 Jack drove him across the room to the wall, again and again 
 he found it more difficult even when backed by the wall 
 to get Jack away from him. At length it was not difficult 
 merely, but impossible. Crosby stood propped against the 
 wall while Jack was driving his blows into him, and he could 
 only cuff Jack feebly about the head, for Jack was too close 
 in for the big man's blows to be effective. 
 
 After a little thought Nugent came to his friend's assistance. 
 
 " Come, come," he said, pulling Jack back, " give the man 
 time to breathe ; that's been a long round. He let you get 
 up." 
 
GREAT DAYS 243 
 
 Jack only looked at him ; he knew he had the fight in hand ; 
 he had only to stick to it and he meant sticking. 
 
 As soon as Nugent let him loose he sprang again at Crosby, 
 and the end came suddenly. 
 
 A heavy blow brought Crosby's head forward, and Jack 
 gave him his right as hard as he could in the face. 
 
 Down went the big man on his back and lay stone-still. 
 At first Jack did not grasp what had happened. The blow 
 and fall together had knocked Crosby's senses out of him. 
 
 Myring and Nugent soon propped him up in a chair, but 
 they could not make him drink. Minute after minute 
 passed and they all began to get frightened. Jack's anger 
 had all left him now ; he never could like the fellow, but his 
 hate had evaporated. 
 
 " Stretch him out on the floor," he said, " throw some 
 water on him and he'll come to," and he went himself to 
 get the water. 
 
 In a few minutes after the water had been thrown on him 
 Crosby came slowly to himself. But evidently his heart 
 had been affected by the pummelling, for the colour did 
 not come back to his cheeks, and when they tried to pour 
 brandy down his throat it only made him violently sick. 
 The hammering he had got about the stomach, coming after 
 years of loose living, had exhausted him completely. 
 
 Jack went off for the barber-surgeon, and when he came 
 back he found that Nancy had washed Crosby's face, and 
 Myring and Nugent had laid him to rest on the big settle 
 in the parlour. Nancy had gone up and brought pillows and 
 bedclothes and made him comfortable. 
 
 Jack sent in the doctor and went up to bed. 
 
244 GREAT DAYS 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 NEXT morning Jack was as well as ever, in fact he 
 felt as if the hard exercise of the night before had 
 cleared his head and lightened his spirits, and he 
 soon noticed that the report of the fight had done him a 
 great deal of good in the village. Everyone showed him an 
 added tinge of respect and cordiality. Even the gentry 
 from the country round began to nod to him again good- 
 humouredly, as if they were glad to see him. Jack saw with 
 amusement that his thrashing of Crosby had lifted him higher 
 in public esteem than his taking of the East Indiaman or his 
 learning French, or, indeed, any of the more difficult things 
 he had done. His father even showed himself curiously 
 elated and proud. 
 
 " I knew you could beat the fellow," he said ; " we 
 Morgans are a tough lot. But a small place like the kitchen 
 gave him a great advantage ; he's a big, powerful fellow. 
 ... I suppose his heart gave out ; those big men are always 
 weak about the heart. I'm glad they had to carry him home ; 
 it'll take some of the swagger out of him." 
 
 Jack found that his dinner might just as well have been 
 given at the inn, for Crosby did not show his nose for 
 months. But as he had asked his father to The Grange, the 
 dinner took place there. 
 
 Jack wished to put his father in a good humour, and, as 
 
GREAT DAYS 245 
 
 the old man after dinner wanted to hear all about the fight, 
 Jack gave him a brief account of it, and told him that what- 
 ever courage he had probably came from him, for one of his 
 earliest recollections was of the wreck that had taken place 
 on the beach, and of his father sending Newton with the 
 line that established communication and saved the ship- 
 wrecked people. 
 
 " Do you remember that ? " cried the old man, greatly 
 pleased. " It was much the same thing," he continued, 
 " that first won your mother. I was mate of a coasting 
 brig, and we had come from Cardiff with coals. It came on 
 to blow hard in the night, and the end of it was the brig 
 dragged her anchors and went ashore. We were only a 
 hundred yards from the beach, and the whole village 
 turned out on the shingle to watch us, but they couldn't get 
 to us and we couldn't get to them, and the brig began to 
 break up under our feet. One man tried to swim ashore, 
 an uncle of Gibby's it was, a big, fat fellow, who could swim 
 like a porpoise. But he was carried clear of the vessel, and 
 the moment he got from under her lee he was battered 
 to pieces in the breakers. That showed me the set of the 
 tide, so I went off the bowsprit end with a piece of string 
 round my waist and just managed to get ashore. 
 
 " They pulled me out more dead than alive and carried 
 me up to the inn, and your mother (she was a girl then) 
 could not do enough for me. I thought no one ever had 
 such soft hands or kind ways. I kissed her hands one day," 
 he added, " when I was getting well, and that was the 
 beginning of it. Poor Mary." 
 
 After a moment or two the old man broke out : " But 
 what did you want to see me about, Jack ? You haven't 
 
246 GREAT DAYS 
 
 told me yet, and I must be getting back. I don't sleep much 
 nowadays," he went on, " but I like to rest in bed a need 
 I never felt," he said, " up to a short time ago." 
 
 Jack was struck by a certain tonelessness in the old man's 
 voice. He noticed, too, with a shrinking at heart, that his 
 father's black hair was already getting grey. It was evident 
 he was ageing rapidly ; his cheeks were baggy, his eyes had 
 lost their brightness. 
 
 " I don't want to beat about the bush," said Jack. " I'm 
 sure you won't do me any injury, but there's a good deal of 
 talk about that you're giving your money to Nancy. I don't 
 mind that," he went on rapidly, for the old man seemed 
 about to speak ; " you have a right to do what you will 
 with your money ; you've earned it, and it's yours. But 
 some years ago you gave me twenty-five thousand pounds, 
 didn't you ? And I have relied on that, and it would not be 
 fair of you to take it away without letting me know, for I 
 should have to go to work at once and earn some more." 
 
 His father laughed. " Don't you remember," he asked, 
 " that you signed for that twenty-five thousand pounds ? 
 It's all in your name ; I couldn't take it if I wanted 
 to." 
 
 " That's all right then," said Jack, " that's all I wanted to 
 know." 
 
 " Had you forgotten that it stands in your name ? " 
 asked the old man curiously. 
 
 " I remembered something about it," confessed Jack, 
 " but it was all vague, and when Riding asked me the other 
 day I could not tell him." 
 
 " Ah ! it was Riding put it into your head ? " cried his 
 father, as if relieved of the last doubt. 
 
GREAT DAYS 247 
 
 " Yes," said Jack, quite ingenuously, " Riding and Gretta 
 Carter." 
 
 " Oh, ho," laughed the old man, " the plot thickens. I 
 wonder did Gretta know anything through Crosby ? " 
 
 " That was it," said Jack, relieved not to have to say any- 
 thing against Nancy. 
 
 " Now I understand it all," said the old man. " You see," 
 he said cunningly, beginning to tap on the table with his 
 fingers in the old way that Jack knew so well, " when any- 
 thing happens that I don't understand, I go to work to put 
 myself in the place of the other people, and try to come at the 
 explanation. I guessed you wished to see me about money, 
 from your hesitation and your wanting me to come here, 
 But it was not like you to think of money without being 
 put up to it by someone. I couldn't quite make out who 
 had put you up to it." 
 
 Jack laughed outright. He had no idea that his father 
 was so thoughtful and cunning. 
 
 " Riding," he said, " Riding and Gretta." 
 
 " I'm very glad," said the old man simply, " that you 
 didn't doubt me. You're curiously like your mother in 
 some things, you know," he added, " and she thought no 
 more of money than of dirt. Never thought enough of it. 
 And you don't think enough of it, my lad," he went on, 
 " though you've a good deal of me in you, too." 
 
 "I didn't need to think of it," replied Jack. "You 
 wouldn't have given it to me years ago if you had meant 
 to take it back later." 
 
 " Not quite true," said the father, " but that doesn't 
 matter. Did you ever make out why I gave it to you ? " 
 
 " No," said Jack, surprised at the question. 
 
248 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " Well," said the old man, with a cunning smile, " I gave 
 it to you because I wanted to excite ambition in you. I 
 said to myself : ' If Jack knows he has money and a mortgage 
 on The Court, he'll go in and win that girl, Margaret 
 Barren.' Why, as a child," he went on, " she liked you, 
 anyone could see it ; you were her hero, lad. But that 
 prison business came in the way. Well, well," said the old 
 man, " perhaps it's all for the best," and as he spoke he took 
 a big packet from his inner pocket. " I may just as well 
 let you know how you stand now." 
 
 " No, no," said Jack, " I would rather leave it all to 
 you." 
 
 His father paid no attention to this, but, after putting 
 on a pair of spectacles, undid the tape round the papers, 
 and laying one packet before him, said : 
 
 " There's the twenty-five thousand pounds you put in the 
 Funds. I have added half of all we have made since to it, 
 and it's now fifty thousand pounds, Master Jack." 
 
 " What ? " cried Jack in astonishment. 
 
 " Yes, yes," said his father, " and more than that. You 
 have taken nothing out, and it's all been going in, and in 
 that case it's astonishing how money grows." 
 
 " Astonishing, indeed," said Jack ; " but how has it 
 doubled itself ? " 
 
 " You bought in at fifty-four," said his father ; " the 
 Funds are now at seventy. These savings of yours, if sold 
 now, would fetch over fifty thousand pounds. 
 
 " Your astonishment," the old man went on, " ought to 
 show you your own weak spot ; you don't think enough of 
 money, Jack, how quickly it grows, and how quickly it melts 
 like a snowball, indeed." 
 
GREAT DAYS 249 
 
 Jack laughed, relieved. " Even that knowledge may come 
 to me, dad," he said. 
 
 The old man shook his head doubtfully. " Now, that's 
 yours," he went on, shoying the packet across the table, 
 " You can do what you like with it. But if I were you I'd 
 never touch the principal nor alter the investment. If you 
 want to send it to Wiggins he'll collect the interest on it as 
 it comes in, and either put it to your account or add it to 
 the principal as you choose." 
 
 " You're a wonderful teacher, dad," said Jack, laughing. 
 " I'll take your advice to the letter." 
 
 " Now here," said the old man, " is the mortgage I've 
 got on The Court. It's now sixty thousand pounds. The 
 old man and Master Cecil borrowed the last ten thousand 
 they'll get from me the other day. The Court's worth a 
 hundred thousand pounds, perhaps a hundred and twenty ; 
 but I don't want to lend more than half the value of it. 
 They're not likely to get anyone in these war times to give 
 them more than sixty thousand for it." 
 
 Again Jack stared. The old man's calculation and his 
 cunning were almost inconceivable to him. 
 
 " This is yours, too," went on his father, touching the 
 mortgage, " when you want it. I have made out a deed, 
 and here's a certified copy of it ; the original is deposited 
 with Wiggins. You can have the certified copy," he said. 
 " When I'm dead and gone The Court '11 be yours." 
 
 " But what will Emily have ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " When I gave you your twenty-five thousand," replied 
 his father, " I gave Emily twenty-five thousand, too. Hers 
 has grown almost as quickly as yours : Emily is worth nearly 
 fifty thousand pounds to-day, and I have tied it up tight on 
 
250 GREAT DAYS 
 
 her and her children. She's one of the richest heiresses in 
 the county of Sussex, and that's good enough for her. I 
 don't know where she came from," continued the old man, 
 " she's not like your mother and she isn't like me. But she's 
 very like a sister of my mother's. I often think our children 
 aren't more than half ours : half of them belongs to the 
 father and mother, the other half comes from the past, from 
 the grandfathers and grandmothers and great-grandfathers, 
 and great-grandmothers, and so on. My Aunt Jane," he 
 remarked, " was just such another as your sister Emily, 
 always thinking of dress and manners, full of little affecta- 
 tions. But if Emily gets children she'll perhaps get sense. 
 Anyhow, she's provided for. . . 
 
 " There's nothing more except the inn and the vessels and 
 a little nest-egg I've got which I'll say nothing about for 
 the moment, but which your smuggling has been making for 
 both of us. Of course you shall have the brigantine and the 
 Dolphin, and Nancy may have the inn and the little craft ; 
 quite enough for her to live on, but whether it'll content her 
 I don't know. ..." He chuckled to himself. " Take up 
 your money," he said, " and give it to Wiggins to-morrow 
 and I'll give him back this mortgage. Now we'll have 
 another drink, my boy ! " 
 
 " Don't you think you've drunk enough, dad ? " 
 
 The old man burst out laughing. "That's funny," he 
 said, " that's just what I've been thinking about you, Jack ; 
 you can stand it better, but young people don't need it. A 
 glass or two does me good, picks me up amazing, clears my 
 head, makes me feel as I used to feel twenty years ago. But 
 even a little does you harm ; you're all right without it." 
 
 Jack laughed. " You're a good arguer," he said. " I've 
 
GREAT DAYS 251 
 
 begun to think you're right, but one glass won't hurt either 
 of us." 
 
 A little later his father went back to the train of thought 
 he had already dismissed. 
 
 " You thought I was blind to what was going on, didn't 
 you ? " he asked with half-closed eyes. 
 
 " No, but I didn't imagine you saw as clearly as you do," 
 Jack admitted. 
 
 " I see a good deal," said the old man boastingly. " Nancy 
 will be well off, but whether she'll have enough to keep 
 Crosby faithful to her or not, I don't know," and the old 
 man chuckled diabolically. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " cried Jack, aghast. 
 
 " I mean," said the old man, looking at him sideways out 
 of narrow eyes, " I mean to give her the whip-hand over 
 Master Crosby when I'm gone ; and she has a fiend's temper 
 when she gets angry or has a little drink in her," and again 
 the old man chuckled. 
 
 " Good God ! " cried Jack. " Why do you live with her 
 if you think that of her ? " 
 
 " Can't help it," said the old man. " After all, what is 
 there in life besides getting a bit of power and enjoying your- 
 self ? Rum's bad for me ; the first glass does me no harm, 
 but every glass afterwards hurts me, makes me fat, too. I 
 never took it so long as life was interesting, but now I've got 
 about as far as I can get. I've left you and your sister well 
 off and I'm often a bit down. Besides, I like a drop of rum, 
 so I drink it. ... 
 
 " I like Nancy, too," he began again. " She's a splendid 
 piece of flesh and blood, but I would not give her the whip- 
 hand for a good deal," and he poured himself out another 
 
252 GREAT DAYS 
 
 drink, almost neat this time. Jack looked on without 
 remonstrance as at some strange revelation of life half 
 divined. 
 
 " A rare good piece is Nancy," his father went on, as if 
 to himself. " I ought to have met her first and your mother 
 afterwards. You know,'* he said, " your mother was the 
 only good woman I ever met in my life. She taught me all 
 the kind things. A rare good woman, and I wouldn't cheat 
 you or your sister for ten thousand Nancies. And as for 
 Crosby, he's making himself a nice bed. When I go I'd 
 like to see him in it," and the old man chuckled, " the 
 swaggering, big fool ! " 
 
 Jack felt that there was no more to be said. A little later 
 he took his father home and delivered him over to Nancy. 
 
 But his father's advice did not do Jack much good. He 
 stopped drinking, it is true, for a few days, but gradually 
 he took it up again, and in the winter evenings he drank 
 more heavily than ever. 
 
 The party at The Court had all separated and gone up to 
 London, but my Lords Mandeville and Barrymore had come 
 down for the shooting, and Jack knew from the tittle-tattle 
 of Nugent and Myring and from occasional things his sister 
 Emily let drop, that Mandeville was as determined in his 
 pursuit of Margaret as ever. 
 
 His sister had become very religious, almost saintly, indeed. 
 She was in the church at all hours, and when she was not in 
 the church she was talking to young Carrol. She knew all 
 about the creeds and copes and chasubles, and had even 
 taken to dressing her hair Madonna-fashion in the house. 
 When out walking she wore the fashionable toque without 
 feathers and depressed at the edges, which gave her a nun- 
 
GREAT DAYS 253 
 
 like air. But she went up to The Court as often as ever, 
 and now and then she condescended to tell Jack what was 
 going on there. One day she told him about some private 
 theatricals,and how in the middle of a scene Lord Mandeville, 
 having to declare his love, had forgotten his part and gone 
 on both knees to Margaret, crying : " I'll be the happiest 
 man in London if you'll marry me ; and that's love, though 
 I can't remember the words." 
 
 " How did she take it ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " She liked it," said his sister ; " every woman 
 would." 
 
 Jack went away and, as soon as he could, got out of the 
 house into the air. " Every woman would." Of course they 
 would ! He walked to the edge of The Court domain 
 to a place in the fence where through the trees he could see 
 the house, and there he stood in the drizzling rain for a 
 couple of hours, gazing at the place with burning eyes and 
 heavy heart. 
 
 How long he had been there he never knew. Something 
 made him turn, and instinctively he took three or four steps 
 across the grass to the road. 
 
 In the dusk a figure was coming towards him. His heart 
 seemed to stop in his throat, choking : it was Margaret. 
 As she came up to him she bowed as if she were going to pass 
 on, and then, perhaps struck by his immobility, she stopped 
 and held out her hand. 
 
 " Good-evening Jack," she said simply. " You're a 
 stranger." 
 
 " Yes," retorted Jack roughly. " I don't go where I'm 
 not wanted." 
 
 " And where are you not wanted I " she asked. ' 
 
254 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " Not at The Court," he barked, " with my Lord Mande- 
 ville." 
 
 " No one has ever told you you weren't wanted at The 
 Court," she remarked quietly. 
 
 " One knows certain things without being told." 
 
 " You know nothing," she said quickly. " I sometimes 
 think you must be more stupid even than most men. Yes, 
 stupid," she said, challenged by his glowering look. " How 
 can you go on living as you do in the inn when you might 
 do such great things ? Mr. Fox talks of you everywhere 
 as extraordinary," she added hastily, " yet you go on drink- 
 ing and quarrelling wasting your life." 
 
 " How do you know what Mr. Fox thinks ? " he asked. 
 " He hasn't returned from Paris yet." 
 
 " No, but Lord Holland has, and Lord Holland told me 
 that Mr. Fox said you were one of the ablest men he had 
 ever met. ' He might do anything,? were his words." 
 
 Mollified in spite of himself Jack could not give up 
 the bitterness of the thoughts he had lived with for so 
 long. 
 
 " What does it matter to you," he challenged, " what I 
 do or don't do ? " 
 
 " It matters to everyone who knows you," she replied. 
 
 " It doesn't matter to you," cried Jack, " how I go to hell. 
 I'm sick of smuggling," he went on. " I've money enough 
 without it. If war comes I can't fight against the French 
 or for them. What am I to do ? " 
 
 She looked at him with inscrutable eyes. " I don't know, 
 Jack," she said slowly, " but you can be a man and take your 
 punishment like a man, and not go on drinking and brawl- 
 ing. . . You're not the only one to suffer," she added, as 
 
GREAT DAYS 255 
 
 if to herself, " but suffering should make us kinder and better, 
 and not degrade us." 
 
 " What do you mean by degrade ? " Jack asked. 
 
 " I mean," she retorted, " what everybody knows, that 
 you fought with Crosby about a girl Gretta Knight." 
 
 " Who told you that ? " he barked. 
 
 " It's common talk," she defended. 
 
 " And you listen to it ? " he said contemptuously. 
 
 " I can't shut my ears," she confessed, " to your sister." 
 
 Jack looked at her. His sister's name put something into 
 his head. 
 
 " It's a lie," he said, " no matter who tells it. But I 
 wanted to say something to you," he broke in. " The 
 common talk is that you're going to marry Lord Mandeville 
 because your brother has gambled and spent a fortune, and 
 because The Court's mortgaged. . . . 
 
 " I don't know what effect poverty would have on you," 
 he went on after a pause. " People take it for granted that 
 girls will do anything for money or to help their relatives. But 
 I want to tell you that I know who holds the mortgage on 
 The Court, and it will never be foreclosed or used against 
 you. One of these days you shall have it back. The Court 
 is yours. You needn't marry for money unless you want to." 
 
 " As if money matters," she replied disdainfully. 
 
 " It does matter," he insisted, " it might matter greatly 
 to you." 
 
 " Never," she retorted proudly. " You don't know me," 
 and made as if to pass on. 
 
 He saw the outline of her figure against the dusk as she 
 passed, and suddenly her words, " You're not the only one 
 to suffer," which he had not noticed at the moment, came 
 
256 GREAT DAYS 
 
 back to him, and all his pent-up passion burst out. One 
 step, and he threw his arms round her. 
 
 " You're the only woman I love or want ; sober or drunk, 
 Margaret, I want you I love you." 
 
 She tried vehemently to drag herself away, but she was as 
 a child in arms of steel. He put his right hand round her 
 shoulders and under her chin and drew her head back, and 
 kissed her on the mouth again and again. 
 
 She struggled with him indignantly. 
 
 " You brute ! " she gasped. 
 
 " Yes, a brute," he cried, " who loves you, Margaret," 
 and he went on kissing her. 
 
 Suddenly he noticed that she was not resisting, and at 
 once the wild fit passed ; then, half repentant and taken 
 in a flood of tenderness, he kissed her on the shut eyes and 
 on her hair. 
 
 " My darling, darling, darling." 
 
 " I'll never forgive you," she cried, drawing herself free, 
 " you've hurt me," and she moved away. 
 
 But Jack's tenderness had overpowered his passion, and 
 now it gave him the right words. 
 
 " You'll forgive me all right," he said, " perhaps sooner 
 than I'll forgive myself," and as she stopped, he cried, 
 " Good-bye, dear," and kneeling at her feet he kissed her 
 dress and her hand, and then, realising his own misery and 
 loss, turned from her into the dark. 
 
BOOK III 
 
GREAT DAYS 259 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THAT last talk with Margaret had taken away a good 
 deal of Jack's bitterness. It freed him to a certain 
 extent from jealousy with its perpetual sensuous 
 excitation. He was no less hopeless, but the thought of 
 Margaret for some reason or other lent dignity to his own 
 suffering. He would play the man, he resolved, as she ad- 
 vised, and the first thing he did was to stop drinking. In the 
 first days he was astonished to find the hold the habit had on 
 him ; he had to resist a conitnual instinctive craving. Again 
 and again he was on the point of drinking, when he remem- 
 bered. The struggle roused his combativeness and his power 
 of resolution, and after three or four days he was delighted 
 to discover that the craving had left him altogether : the 
 fight, though sharp, was short. 
 
 Immediately he left off drinking he began to notice how 
 stupid he had been ever to let the habit get any hold on him. 
 Not only did his general health improve, but he soon took as 
 much pleasure in drinking tea and milk as he had found in 
 drinking wine and spirits. Besides, this one act of self- 
 denial, rewarded as it was, made all other acts of self-denial 
 easier to him. He now noticed what the drink had hitherto 
 concealed that this or that dish disagreed with him ; he 
 promptly refused it, with the result that his health soon 
 
26o GREAT DAYS 
 
 became perfect and his enjoyment of life and interest in 
 living grew almost from day to day. 
 
 On his way to the ship one day Jack met Emily going to 
 church. She looked charmingly demure, Jack thought, and 
 was getting prettier than ever. 
 
 After a few words of greeting he suddenly asked her : 
 " By-the-bye, Emily, why did you tell Margaret Barron 
 that Crosby and I fought about Gretta Knight ? You 
 must have known that was not true." 
 
 " I didn't know anything of the sort," she flashed out. 
 " I had seen Crosby talking to Gretta quite lately, and she 
 certainly used to be a flame of yours." 
 
 " A flame of mine," cried Jack. " You must be mad." 
 
 " I'm not mad at all," she retorted. " It was all over 
 the village that you were seen kissing her, and the girl didn't 
 deny it. I asked her at the time ; she couldn't deny it." 
 
 " Oh, you did, did you ? " said Jack. " Well, I wish you 
 would not interfere in my business. It would be better," 
 he went on hotly, " if you kept your silly suggestions to 
 yourself. Why you should want to hurt me with Margaret 
 Barron I can't, for the life of me, imagine." 
 
 " Hurt you," cried his sister disdainfully. " You don't 
 know what you're talking about. It was the very way to 
 make her think more of you. A little jealousy does a woman 
 no 'harm ; it wakes her up and makes her realise where she 
 stands. I can assure you if she doesn't feel jealousy she 
 certainly doesn't feel love. Lots of women are jealous 
 without loving, but no woman loves without being jealous. 
 If everyone did you as much good with Margaret Barron 
 as I've done, you wouldn't need to complain. ... If you 
 hadn't gone back that time to France and made a fool of 
 
GREAT DAYS 261 
 
 yourself by marrying Suzanne it might all have been 
 different." 
 
 " You may be right," Jack admitted. 
 
 " Of course I'm right," she said, " and you know it." 
 
 Jack took Riding with him in the Dolphin and went over 
 to Boulogne, more to see how the land lay than with any 
 purpose even of smuggling. Curiously enough, the more 
 he saw of Riding the better he liked him ; there was in him 
 a great fund of sound sense, a kindliness, too, of nature which 
 was attaching. Jack often marvelled where he got his 
 wisdom from, as Riding seemed to have read but little. 
 Jack was only beginning to discover that one learns more 
 from life than from books. 
 
 The smugglers about Wimereux had increased enormously 
 in numbers ; there were nearly a thousand of them now in the 
 little fishing-village, French and English, a floating popula- 
 tion coming and going, a population of hard drinkers and 
 hard fighters, too, if need were. But he had not much time 
 to get acquainted with them ; the old hands of course he 
 knew, but many of the younger men were complete strangers 
 to him. 
 
 He was astonished one day to find a stage-coach at Pin's 
 door, and in the hall an enormously fat lady, who, when she 
 moved aside, disclosed just as fat a man ; it was Mr. Fox. 
 As soon as he caught sight of Jack he came over to him and 
 held out his hand. 
 
 " The very man I wanted to see," he cried cordially. 
 " Can you give us a passage across ? My wife," he said, 
 " Mr. Morgan," and the fat lady smiled at Jack. 
 
 " Of course," said Jack. " I shall be honoured, but the 
 vessel's the same little craft." 
 
262 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " Ah ! Ha ! " roared Mr. Fox, " you remember I was 
 afraid there would not be room for me. Now you'll have 
 to take two of us, and my wife's even bigger than I am." 
 
 Jack asked when they wished to start. 
 
 " The sooner the better," Mr. Fox cried, so Jack hurried 
 on board at once to make the best preparation possible for 
 his distinguished passengers. 
 
 That same afternoon they drew out of harbour with a 
 light air and an almost perfectly calm sea. From the begin- 
 ning Mr. Fox treated our hero quite differently from the 
 first time, like a friend, indeed, and instead of sitting almost 
 mute on deck he talked quite freely from the beginning, 
 perhaps rejoicing a little in the pleasure of talking English 
 after having been compelled to use French for months, for 
 though he spoke French fluently, it was a sort of English- 
 French which must have sounded funny to Bonaparte. 
 
 " War is inevitable," he told Jack in the course of the 
 evening. "Bonaparte is very ambitious and astoundingly 
 vain." 
 
 " Do you think him a great man ? " Jack ventured to 
 ask. 
 
 " I suppose so," said Mr. Fox a little reluctantly ; " but 
 successful men are never so great as they are made out to be. 
 It's like judging a man by his shadow," he went on, as if he 
 had thought of the matter before, " and that's never so 
 large as when his sun's near the setting. 
 
 " Bonaparte," he resumed, in a brisker way, " has curious 
 illusions ; he was persuaded that English Ministers had tried 
 to assassinate him. I told him to put that out of his head. 
 He has an astonishing sense of his own importance ; he 
 thinks the world turns round him. And in Paris they 
 
GREAT DAYS 263 
 
 seemed to regard him as omnipotent. ... It is curious what 
 flunkies men are, even in a republic," he added, as if amused 
 with human folly. 
 
 Jack put before him Caressa's view of Bonaparte, told 
 what he had done in that first marvellous Italian campaign ; 
 but Mr. Fox did not appear to be greatly impressed. 
 
 " I daresay he can strike quickly and ruthlessly," he 
 admitted. " He seemed to me amazingly clear and decisive 
 rather than big," he went on, as if trying to give words to 
 vague, because hitherto undefined, feelings. " Bfct great 
 men are usually richer in temperament than he appears to 
 be, and richer in faults, too," he added. 
 
 " One has to judge everyone by oneself," he explained. 
 " As a young man I went astray in every direction and fell 
 into every sort of quagmire. Like the prodigal son I wasted 
 my strength in riotous living and my substance at the gaming- 
 table all vanity and vexation of spirit. Caesar, too, ran 
 into debt," he said, as if defending himself, " owed more 
 than anyone ever owed in Rome before. But this Bona- 
 parte has no rich, generous faults ; his conceit, his self-con- 
 fidence, seemed to me his weakest point, the rock on which 
 he may founder ; but then I don't know him really," he 
 added meditatively. 
 
 " You were right in one thing," he resumed, addressing 
 Jack directly. " France has assuredly recovered strength 
 and health and hope in the most remarkable fashion. Every 
 Frenchman one meets resents our English policy, or perhaps 
 one should call it the English temper of suspicion and con- 
 tempt of all things French. It's a great pity that the two 
 peoples cannot understand each other better. . . . 
 
 " I'm inclined to think sometimes," he said, looking at 
 
264 GREAT DAYS 
 
 Jack and laughing, " that we should imprison half our 
 insular population in France as you were imprisoned for a 
 year or so, and half the Frenchmen in England ; then there 
 might be some chance that they'd live together peaceably. 
 But there's going to be war. Bonaparte is full of the idea 
 that he can conquer England. . . . 
 
 " I'm not a sailor," Mr. Fox went on, " but it seems to me 
 a pretty difficult business even to land a large force isn't 
 it?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed," laughed Jack. 
 
 " Could a large force be ferried over on rafts or flat- 
 bottomed boats ? " Mr. Fox questioned further. 
 
 " One frigate," replied Jack, " could deal with a thousand 
 rafts ; one revenue-cutter even would play havoc with a 
 dozen of 'em. The idea is ridiculous." 
 
 " Oh, ho ! " laughed Mr. Fox. " Bonaparte would give 
 something for a talk with you, my friend ; but I expect 
 there are not many sailors like you in England, and fewer 
 still in France." 
 
 " There are good and bad sailors everywhere," said Jack. 
 " I have met good French sailors," he added, thinking of the 
 captain of the frigate that had captured him. 
 
 When they reached Hurstpoint Jack wanted to know 
 whether Mr. and Mrs. Fox would like to go direct to London, 
 but they decided to pass the night at the inn, which Mr. 
 Fox declared had the best Burgundy he had ever tasted. 
 
 When the dinner was prepared Mr. Fox insisted that Jack 
 should sit down with them, and at the end of dinner, when 
 the Burgundy had been approved, he suddenly asked his 
 guest : 
 
 " Why don't you get a commission in our navy ? " 
 
GREAT DAYS 265 
 
 " There'd be no chance of that," replied Jack, flushing 
 with pleasure. 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Fox in the careless, large way that added 
 to the value of the promise, " I haven't much credit with 
 the Government, but I think I've enough for that. I will 
 see about it when I get to London, if you like." 
 
 " Thank you," said Jack ; " but I'm married to a French- 
 woman," he went on hesitatingly. 
 
 " The deuce you are ! " exclaimed Mr. Fox. " Does that 
 give you a divided allegiance ? " 
 
 " It makes fighting the French more difficult for me," 
 replied Jack. 
 
 " You must remember," said Mr. Fox, after a pause, 
 " that you are not really fighting France now, but Bonaparte. 
 I've retired from public affairs," he added, " simply because 
 I didn't wish to combat French ideas which seemed to me 
 just and right. But now Bonaparte is making himself a 
 despot I should have no hesitation in combating his ambi- 
 tions and fighting him. It's a very hard thing," he con- 
 tinued meditatively, " to go against one's country, very 
 difficult indeed to know when not to go with it even when 
 it's in the wrong ; it's like judging one's mother very 
 difficult and disagreeable at the best. ..." 
 
 Jack was struck with the sad gravity of his tone and 
 manner ; struck, too, with the comparison. 
 
 " I think you should have a commission," Mr. Fox 
 resumed. " If I'm right, you'll need it before long," and 
 Jack did not dissent, though he was not yet fully persuaded. 
 
 In all their talks together Jack drew a certain inspiration 
 from the great man. Mr. Fox was the only person except 
 old Dr. Sauvan who had ever talked general ideas to him, 
 
266 GREAT DAYS 
 
 and they stimulated his mind and quickened his own 
 thinking. 
 
 He understood the fascination exercised by the man who 
 continually referred to general ideas of justice and benevo- 
 lence, and was never a partisan of his own class, but always a 
 friend of the friendless, with large, generous instincts. 
 
GREAT DAYS 267 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 WHILE still weighing Mr. Fox's words and expect- 
 ing vaguely to receive from him the promised 
 commission, Jack received a short letter from 
 Caressa : 
 
 " Suzanne is ill ; come at once." 
 
 Jack showed the letter to his father and set off the same 
 day. On his way to Cherbourg he could not help reproach- 
 ing himself ; he had been away from Suzanne a considerable 
 time and had been faithless to her in thought and in feeling, 
 if not in deed ; nor could he conceal from himself that their 
 estrangement was in the main his fault. 
 
 When he reached Cherbourg he was shocked to find her in 
 bed ; she had caught a cold, it appeared, and had got con- 
 gestion of the lungs, and in her condition had not been able 
 to shake it off. She was inclined to be querulous and re- 
 proachful at first, but Jack met her with real tenderness, and 
 laid himself out to think of nothing but her and her comfort. 
 A few days of his constant tendance made her resolve to get 
 up, and in a week she began to come downstairs regularly. 
 Within a month Doctor Sauvan said her lungs were all right 
 again ; the congestion had been overcome and had only 
 left a slight trace, though great weakness. 
 
 Every fine day Jack took her out for a drive, and she soon 
 began to get about the house apparently in her usual health, 
 
268 GREAT DAYS 
 
 save for a little cough which now and then seized her when 
 she took unusual exercise. 
 
 In this quiet time of home duties and daily observances 
 Jack was delighted to renew acquaintance with both Sauvan 
 and the little colonel. Caressa seemed to have become 
 dearer to him through absence. Jack could not help loving 
 the peppery little man who fought for his ideas and beliefs 
 just as he must have charged at the head of his Chasseurs, 
 with all his heart and soul in the business. He had been 
 decorated by Bonaparte with an officer's cross of the Legion 
 of Honour, and he was passionately convinced that the dis- 
 tinction was the highest on earth, as indeed it was for some 
 time after its inauguration. 
 
 Jack was not inclined to take as much interest in Dr. 
 Sauvan as he had formerly taken. He knew now that the 
 man was selfish and self-absorbed, and had not much kind- 
 ness in him to spend on anyone. But Jack could not help 
 seeing that the doctor had read widely and had been brought 
 up to think in a precise, good school. To hear Sauvan and 
 the colonel arguing, the one in favour of the Revolution and 
 equality and the other in love with an all-wise and all-good 
 despot, was an unforgettable experience. In face of the 
 great fact that in ten years France had come from the depths 
 of poverty and misery to an astonishing height of comfort and 
 power it was impossible to deny that the doctor's theories of 
 equality had to a certain extent justified themselves. The 
 nobles and priests had been dispossessed and their land 
 divided among millions of poor peasants. Hope had spread 
 immediately through the people, hope and energy, and these 
 had brought in their train wealth and power. It was the 
 Revolution, Sauvan insisted, which had supplied Bonaparte 
 
GREAT DAYS 269 
 
 with force; in himself he was nothing a little Corsican 
 adventurer. 
 
 " But till he came," Caressa cried, " till he came you had 
 nothing but defeats, or, at best, a victory now and a defeat 
 to-morrow, nothing decisive. It's his genius that has turned 
 the tide, his personality has made all the difference." 
 
 Sauvan merely shrugged his shoulders. " Wait and see," 
 he would say, " wait and see. The world has already paid a 
 good deal for its childish belief in great men, and France '11 
 yet have to pay heavily for her belief in Bonaparte." 
 
 Jack was not at all satisfied that either man represented 
 the whole truth. His talks with Mr. Fox had given him a 
 certain confidence in himself and in his own judgment 
 which he had hitherto lacked. One day he put it to the two 
 men whether it would not be possible to reconcile their 
 theories. 
 
 " No, no," said Sauvan, " they are contradictories and 
 cannot be reconciled." 
 
 Even Caressa shrugged his shoulders. " What sort of an 
 army would that be in which a general and a common 
 soldier were on the same level ; who takes as much care of his 
 hands or feet as he does of his head, or esteems his toes the 
 equal of his eyes ? " 
 
 But Jack was determined to get his vague feelings into 
 words. 
 
 " How would it be," he said, " if there could be equality 
 or a great approach to equality in necessaries, while keeping 
 all the distinctions as honours ? The toes need to be nour- 
 ished just as much as the eyes, and if you starve the toes the 
 eyes will soon close of themselves. It seems to me all should 
 be assured of the necessaries of life, and we should keep the 
 
a;o GREAT DAYS 
 
 honours for the higher functions. Honours would be more 
 esteemed if they could not be won by money." 
 
 But each of the combatants preferred his half-try th and 
 fought for it all the more passionately because its limita- 
 tions suited the shortcomings of his own nature. 
 
 Jack got accustomed to reading a good deal in the parlour 
 with his wife, and he found she was quite happy so long as 
 he was with her and would listen to her chatter about house- 
 hold affairs and the small talk of the prison. Since she had 
 become a mother Suzanne had developed a new personality ; 
 she not only fulfilled all the duties of the part with exem- 
 plary tenderness, but was filled with a new self-esteem and a 
 new confidence in herself and her judgment. Even Jack 
 was not so necessary to her as he had been, and she ordered 
 both him and her uncle about at will. The baby girl and 
 her mother were the chief personages in the household. 
 Suzanne said the baby had Jack's eyes and the colonel's 
 chin ; but only a young mother could discover the likeness. 
 In this quiet interlude Jack, too, got to know his little 
 girl-daughter and became really attached to her ; the effort 
 to excite her love, the very care and attention he lavished 
 on her increased his affection, and the mother was delighted 
 to believe that Jack was in love with the daughter for her 
 sake. 
 
 Altogether the little household was very happy and very 
 contented till one day Caressa got an official letter. It was 
 from the First Consul, telling him curtly that war with 
 England was practically resolved on, and that he must con- 
 sult with the mayor and devise measures to seize all the 
 English visitors and travellers in Cherbourg at the declara- 
 tion of war and put them in prison. 
 
GREAT DAYS 27 1 
 
 The little colonel was too loyal to his chief and benefactor 
 to hesitate or even to criticise him, but he could not regard 
 Jack as an enemy, and so he showed him the letter. 
 
 It was plain Jack must leave France at once, for even 
 Caressa was frightened. He felt uncertain whether Bona- 
 parte would or would not proceed to extremities with his 
 prisoners. Everything was possible to him, the colonel 
 admitted, everything that seemed likely to make victory 
 more certain. " He would sacrifice himself," said Caressa, 
 half proudly, " why not you or me ? " 
 
 The argument was irresistible. Jack could only beg 
 Suzanne to take care of herself and assure her that he would 
 not fight against France, and then hurry away. 
 
 It was with the utmost difficulty that he got to Boulogne. 
 Luckily for him his knowledge of French was now so good 
 that among ordinary people, at any rate, he could pass easily 
 for a Frenchman. Luckily, too, Caressa had taken care to 
 furnish him with a complete passport countersigned by the 
 Mayor of Cherbourg, for he was stopped again and again. 
 Evidently Bonaparte's orders had gone out all over France 
 and were being obeyed enthusiastically. But though the 
 imperious will was operative at Boulogne it ceased three 
 miles out of the town at Wimereux. 
 
 As soon as Jack got to Pin's cafe he was as safe and as 
 welcome as he would have been in Hurstpoint, for the whole 
 smuggler's camp was disgusted with the idea of war. Their 
 trade had grown enormously in the year of peace, and they 
 knew that as soon as war was declared the Frenchmen among 
 them might at any moment be brought under the heel of the 
 French soldiery, while the Englishmen, if they returned 
 home, were in danger of being " pressed " for the English 
 
272 GREAT DAYS 
 
 navy. The camp was like a hive of angry bees, every man 
 buzzing about uneasily, ready to sting anyone. 
 
 Jack had been four days in Pin's when the news came that 
 war had been declared. He immediately made up his mine 
 to cross next day in any craft he could find. He had been 
 away a long time, and, though he would not acknowledge 
 it to himself, he wanted to get back. He wanted to see hi 
 father and Riding, he persuaded himself ; but whatever 
 the reason, his village drew him. 
 
 As luck would have it next morning he saw the Dolphin 
 off the port. An hour later he had Riding at breakfast with 
 him and was listening to all his news. 
 
 His sister, it appeared, had married Carrol and was settlec 
 down in The Grange. Cecil Barren had died in London 
 and there was mourning at The Court. 
 
 Riding was eager to know whether Jack was going to take a 
 hand in the war. Jack told him that for the time being he 
 was resolved to do nothing. In spite of his extraordinary 
 tact Riding ventured to say that Gosport was very eager, anc 
 had got a big cannon mounted amidships on the brigantine 
 and was aching to try conclusions with any man-o'-war in 
 the French navy. But Jack would not hear of a privateering 
 cruise. 
 
 " It's perhaps unfortunate," he said, " but I've too many 
 ties in France. We will talk it all over with my father 
 when I go back." 
 
 And therewith Riding had to be content. 
 
GREAT DAYS 273 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE same evening Jack sailed for Hurstpoint, ran in 
 under the Head about midnight, and slept in his 
 own bed at the inn. Next morning, to his aston- 
 ishment, when he came down to breakfast his father was not 
 there. Usually the old man got up as soon as it was light. 
 
 " The old," he used to say, " need little sleep." But now 
 he appeared to need a good deal, and even in the mornings 
 he looked fagged and tired. 
 
 Jack caught himself wondering often whether he was not 
 much older than he had given himself out to be. In the 
 couple of years since he had married Nancy he had changed 
 from being a hale man, who might have passed for sixty, 
 into an old man who might be seventy-four or five. 
 
 Jack told his father what Riding had said to him, but added 
 that he did not care to go fighting at once. When he saw 
 that his father was not of his opinion he gave as an excuse 
 that he wanted to wait for the commission which Mr. Fox 
 had promised him, and his father readily accepted this reason 
 for inaction. 
 
 " It's as well to get the commission first," he said with his 
 usual cunning, " for if you do something afterwards you'll 
 get rewarded. Meantime, you know, a bit of smuggling is 
 always profitable, and it's safe enough. Riding tells me that 
 
274 GREAT DAYS 
 
 the brigantine has the heels of any craft he has ever seen, 
 so I think we should add to our nest-egg." 
 
 " You love the smuggling," said Jack, amused as always 
 by his father's greed of money ; " but what do you mean by 
 the * nest-egg ' ? " 
 
 " Don't you remember," said his father, " that I am put- 
 ting another little fortune together for my grand-daughter ? 
 It's quite a respectable size by now," he added, smiling. 
 
 " Really ? " queried Jack in surprise. 
 
 " Over ten thousand pounds," said his father, " and 
 growing. Besides three or four thousand pounds' worth 
 of brandy in the inn, that'll double in price before long." 
 
 Jack used his first free afternoon to go to The Grange to 
 visit his sister. He found her settled down in the most 
 matronly way in the world with Carrol " Frederic," as 
 she called him, with gusto, every minute or two. 
 
 When Jack told her that he scarcely lecognised his old 
 school-mate as " Frederic " having always called him Fred 
 or Carrol, she remarked that the full name was much finer. 
 
 " It comes from the German, you know Friedreich 
 and really means ' rich in peace,' a most beautiful name." 
 
 Jack could not help laughing ; she would have plaited the 
 mane and twined ribbons in the tail of the White Horse of 
 Revelations, besides giving him the finest name she could 
 think of. 
 
 But if Emily had blossomed into new life Carrol seemed 
 to have grown more retiring and more self-absorbed than 
 ever. Jack talked to him for some time that afternoon before 
 he would come out of his shell, but as soon as he let himself 
 go Jack found there was more in him than he had suspected, 
 a sort of tremulous sensibility to whatever was most beauti- 
 
GREAT DAYS 275 
 
 ful in art or nature. Suddenly he asked Jack whether he had 
 ever read anything of Blake's, and when Jack told him he had 
 never heard the fellow's name Carrol assured him warmly that 
 Blake was one of the greatest of Englishmen ; spoke of him, 
 in fact, with such passionate enthusiasm that he excited 
 Jack's curiosity. He quoted a couple of lines of Blake's 
 that always afterwards remained with Jack as the quint- 
 essence of poetry, as discovering, indeed, a magic realm 
 of loveliness of which Jack had never dreamed. 
 
 .... Let thy west wind sleep on 
 The lake ; speak silence with thy glimmering eyes, 
 And wash the dusk with silver. 
 
 And this fine taste in Carrol was coupled with a very high 
 standard of conduct. He had been trying, it appeared, to 
 turn Gretta Carter from her evil ways ; had got her husband 
 work and had given her employment, too, in taking care of 
 the church vestry. Jack found that this pious mission of 
 Carrol was not well looked upon by his sister, who sneered 
 a little at it while maintaining that Gretta Carter did not 
 interest her. 
 
 But all human souls, Jack found, particularly all those who 
 needed care or help, were interesting to her husband. 
 Suddenly he remembered that Margaret had praised Carrol 
 at one time, and now he, too, began to regard him with 
 admiration, as one who opened up new spiritual horizons. 
 He promised himself to see more of his old school chum in 
 the future. 
 
 Carrol, on his side, had been interested in Jack by hearing 
 from Margaret that Mr. Fox had expressed his very high 
 appreciation of Jack's ability. In a little while he realised 
 
276 GREAT DAYS 
 
 that Jack was not nearly such a materialist as he had imagined, 
 and at once he began to look on him as a possible convert. 
 He lent Jack one of Swedenborg's works, " Heaven and Hell," 
 and begged him to take it away with him and study it at his 
 leisure. Jack promised he would do his best, though at the 
 same time he felt certain in his own mind that he would 
 learn more from talking to Carrol than from reading a 
 dozen Swedenborgs. 
 
 When on the point of leaving The Grange his sister told 
 him that it was his duty to call at The Court, and Carrol 
 agreed with her. Jack arranged to go up there next day with 
 Emily, and in the afternoon they went. 
 
 Margaret came in dressed in black to the very throat ; 
 the sombre vestment, Jack thought, added to the stateliness 
 of her fine figure. She met Jack as if nothing untoward had 
 taken place between them, and greeted Emily and asked after 
 Carrol as if she were accustomed to see them every day. 
 But her brother's death had shaken her ; now and then when 
 she spoke of her father, who was a confirmed invalid, or of 
 her mother, who had been confined to her room since Cecil's 
 death, she had some difficulty in restraining her tears. Jack's 
 heart beat painfully ; he would have liked . . . But he 
 had no right . . . had lost, indeed, what little right he 
 had . . . and so went on chewing the bitter cud of regret 
 as a man is apt to do. 
 
 But if his sister was affected she was not wanting in tact. 
 She inquired very warmly for Lady Barren and insisted upon 
 running up to see her, and so left the two together. 
 
 Jack was at a loss. As soon as he found himself alone with 
 Margaret his sympathy carried him away. He wanted to kiss 
 her, to comfort her, to tell her how much he admired her, 
 
GREAT DAYS 277 
 
 how wonderful he thought her, how intensely she appealed 
 to every fibre in him. The way she got up and moved across 
 the room set the pulses throbbing in him. He felt he must 
 restrain himself and make no sign. 
 
 Margaret smoothed the way for him. She knew that he 
 had met Mr. Fox again, and she wanted to know the result 
 of their talk. 
 
 Jack told her that Mr. Fox had promised to send him a 
 commission, but had not done it. 
 
 Margaret declared that it could only be forgetfulness ; 
 Mr. Fox had a very high opinion of him, and she advised 
 him to go to London at once and see Mr. Fox. She seemed 
 to take it for granted that Jack wanted to be a king's officer, 
 and her calm assumption had its effect on her hearer. 
 
 He told her he would certainly write to the great man, 
 though he hated asking favours. But Margaret saw nothing 
 out of the way in asking for the fulfilment of a promise. 
 
 " Do you know," said Jack, getting up almost at the same 
 moment that Margaret rose, " I find Carrol very interesting ? 
 He has a curious, thoughtful mind, and he believes devoutly 
 now in the religion of his childhood, though he didn't 
 believe in anything much when we were at school together. 
 He has altered astonishingly." 
 
 " I didn't know him at all when he was a boy," said Mar- 
 garet, " but since he came from Oxford first he has always 
 interested me. He's more like a woman than a man," she 
 went on, " very sensitive and imaginative, with an extra- 
 ordinary love of beauty, an extraordinary power, too, of 
 living in the past. He has transformed the church, you 
 know ; he's making it almost like a chantry of the Middle 
 Ages the ages of faith, as he calls them." 
 
278 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " I notice," grumbled Jack, " that he talks of the early 
 Christian Church and lecterns and chasubles, and God 
 knows what besides." 
 
 " He's a dear and very gifted," said Margaret, perhaps 
 resenting the criticism a little, " and I like him very much ; 
 he has been more than kind to me lately. He is good," she 
 added with a decisive air. 
 
 The two were before the window looking out on the very 
 terrace where they had walked a few years before. 
 
 Without reflection Jack found himself saying : " You 
 cured me of drinking, you know, Margaret ; I owe you a 
 great deal," and he held out his hand. 
 
 She looked at him with inscrutable eyes, and after a pause 
 gave him her hand. As soon as he felt the cool white hand 
 in his he knew that this was the reason he had praised her 
 gratefully that he might touch her. As he lifted her hand 
 to his lips he slid his palm along hers till he held her whole 
 hand. He wondered why kissing it gave him such keen 
 pleasure. As he pushed the sleeve back and kissed her 
 wrist and arm she drew her hand away. He noticed that 
 her cheeks were a little flushed. 
 
 A moment or two afterwards his sister came into the room. 
 
 A little later the brother and sister took a conventional 
 leave and went down the drive together. 
 
 " Well, what did she say ? " probed his sister. 
 
 " Nothing," said Jack. 
 
 " I won't help you," threatened his sister, " if you don't 
 pay me by satisfying my curiosity." 
 
 " But there's nothing to tell," replied Jack. 
 
 His sister shrugged her shoulders. " All right. I know 
 better ; but it doesn't matter," and there the matter ended. 
 
GREAT DAYS 279 
 
 For the life of him Jack could not discuss Margaret even 
 with his sister. She was set apart from all other women in his 
 eyes and immeasurably above them, and his meeting with 
 her had an extraordinary effect in quickening and invigora- 
 ting him. Her mere presence helped him ; her esteem of him 
 strengthened his self-respect. Everything in her appealed 
 to him, her thoughts, her quick, imperious intellect, her 
 beauty. How right she was about Carrol ; he was, indeed, 
 as she had said, a mystic of extraordinary sensitiveness. 
 
 It was the mystic in him which appealed to Jack so 
 intensely, for the sailor's life leads naturally to mysticism. 
 The isolation and danger, the darkness brooding over the 
 waters, the night winds and stars, the solitude that recalls 
 the loneliness of the soul, all predispose to belief ; the 
 moving plain of water suggests infinity like the star-sown sky. 
 
 Jack would have loved to talk to Margaret as he had never 
 talked to anyone about everything that moved him. The 
 depths in him longed for her, felt sympathy in her. It was 
 not to be. The pain in him grew. He went on listening 
 to his sister's projects of a new drawing-room and how she 
 intended to get a coachman and put him in livery " the 
 Carrol livery, you know," she said, " green and silver, with 
 our crest on the buttons. ..." 
 
 As inaction was impossible to him Jack began to get the 
 brigantine in order for a smuggling cruise. He wanted to 
 please his father, and the old man came on board to him 
 two or three times, suggesting this or that improvement. 
 
 Gosport had made up the crew again to its full comple- 
 ment, though he could always draw on the Dolphin and 
 Mary for ten or a dozen extra men. A born fighting man, 
 he was full of a new idea. 
 
280 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " Give Chips an order," he said to Jack, " for another 
 brigantine like this, and let me fit her out with another 
 sixty-pound gun and we're a match for any Frenchman 
 afloat." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " cried Jack. " What could you 
 do to a three-decker ? " 
 
 " Leave all that to me," replied Gosport. " A ship 
 should be a gun-carriage and nothing more. A wasp, by 
 God ! " he went on, " that's the name for them ; let's call 
 them the Wasp and the Bee and we'll buzz and sting to 
 some purpose, you'll see." 
 
 Jack was astonished to find that his father was in favour 
 of the idea, and as soon as they left the ship he insisted on 
 going to Chips' yard. 
 
 " Why get another ship ? " said Jack. " I don't know 
 that I shall fight yet." 
 
 " You ought to have your commission first," said his 
 father, " but that may come any day, and a vessel can't be 
 built under some months. I should like to see you captain 
 in the king's navy before I die ; and stranger things have 
 happened, mind you," said the old man. " At any rate, 
 there is nothing to lose over another brigantine like that ; 
 we can always sell her for more than the price we pay 
 Chips." 
 
 In spite of Jack's reluctance, the order was given that 
 very day, and Chips declared that the Wasp should be better 
 than the Bee in every particular. 
 
 From this time on Jack saw a good deal of his father. 
 The old man was continually in Chips' yard or on the brigan- 
 tine, and one day in the yard he got in a draught, caught a 
 very bad cold, and was laid up with lumbago. In spite of 
 
GREAT DAYS 281 
 
 attention and good nursing the little weakness would not 
 be shaken off. The old man seemed to get worse, and Jack 
 began to grow anxious about him. There was a little fever, 
 the barber-surgeon said, but nothing particular. In a few 
 days, however, he began to mend rapidly, but he seemed a 
 little shaken. It was his sister who made Jack aware of the 
 fact. She came to him one day and begged him to speak to 
 the father. 
 
 The old man was going to a little Methodist chapel, it 
 appeared, on Sundays, and had given up the church, and 
 Emily, of course, thought he should come to church and 
 sit under her husband in what she called " the proper 
 church." 
 
 Jack wondered vaguely whether that was the chapel he 
 remembered going to with his father in his childhood, and 
 one night in the parlour after dinner he asked the old man 
 why he went to chapel. 
 
 " I've always belonged to it," he replied. 
 
 " Do you believe in the gospel ? " cried Jack, for he had 
 never seen in his father's conduct any reference whatever 
 to religious scruples. 
 
 " I s'pose I do," replied his father simply. " I don't 
 hurt you by going to chapel, do I ? " 
 
 " Of course not," Jack explained. " Emily thinks you 
 should go to church because her husband's father is a vicar 
 and her husband is his curate. But of course you have a 
 right to go wherever you want to go." 
 
 " I guessed it was something like that," said the old man. 
 :< You see, I never believed in the church, never cared for 
 it much. It's too like this world : the best seats in it for 
 the best people, music and singing, painted windows, 
 
282 GREAT DAYS 
 
 silks and satins. I like my bare chapel and the plain wooden 
 pews free to all. . . . 
 
 " In the church they talk a lot about the God of Love, 
 because their bellies are full, and they want to be happy ; 
 in the chapel they tell the truth ; they know the c punish- 
 ment of sin is death.' . . . God has made hell-fire for ever 
 for those who fall or do wrong or are weak. That's the God 
 I've known all my life in the world. He gives everything to 
 the strong and cunning and greedy and saving ; why ? 
 Because he loves 'em ; they're his chosen people, the Jews 
 first and the English afterwards, greedy, strong, and hard 
 like Him. . . . 
 
 " I never was afraid of a man much, but I'm often afraid 
 of God. He can get you when you least expect it. On the 
 whole, though, He's been good to me. 
 
 " I sometimes wonder whether God ever knew a good 
 woman ; Jesus, you know, had a far better heart than God 
 has. ..." 
 
 Jack looked at him in absolute amazement. The old 
 man's God was like himself, made in his own image, but 
 larger and darker as our shadow is larger and darker than we 
 are. Was the old man frightened of his own shadow ? 
 Did the old wolf tremble in fear at his own shade and howl 
 in dread to the moon, uneasy through the fellowship of his 
 dark companion ? 
 
 Jack was filled with compassion. " Don't you see, 
 father," he cried, " that love is stronger than hatred, joy 
 stronger than fear ? Love is by far the strongest in- 
 fluence in the world ; my mother was really stronger 
 than you are." 
 
 " Ha ! Ha ! " crowed the old man, laughing. " I could 
 always make her do whatever I liked." 
 
GREAT DAYS 283 
 
 " Yes," said Jack, " but you loved her, and you can't now 
 do things that would hurt her." 
 
 " That's true," said the old man, groping, and his hands 
 sought the table again and began the old tattoo which Jack 
 remembered so well. " That's true ; but as we get old 
 our childhood comes nearer and nearer to us, and my child- 
 hood was all darkness and hunger and fear." 
 
 Shaken to the soul with pity, Jack could only take the 
 thin, dry hands in his and hold them fast. . . . 
 
284 GREAT DAYS 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 FOR love of adventure and lack of anything better to 
 do Jack took his father's advice and went smuggling. 
 He sailed first to Bordeaux, but having learnt from 
 a French fisherman on the coast that the hatred of the 
 English had grown to such an extent it would be impossible 
 even to enter the river without being fired on by the forts, 
 he made his way back again to Wimereux and bought what 
 wines and spirits he could find there at the prices current. 
 
 He really enjoyed cruising in the brigantine ; her speed 
 and seaworthiness pleased the sailor in him at every moment, 
 and the smugglers' camp round Wimereux attracted him as 
 fresh, vigorous life always attracts. It interested him to 
 notice that the racial difference, or rather the difference of 
 language, separated the French and English even when they 
 were always rubbing shoulders in a common pursuit and 
 common danger. He saw, too, that the traffic in a for- 
 bidden trade made pariahs of men first and then degraded 
 them. Most men who break a law, though merely a law 
 of convention, are ripe a month later to break any and every 
 law, however reasonable and just. 
 
 Here Jack traced the steps by which a hierarchy establishes 
 itself in every community, even among outlaws. In this 
 armed camp the boldest spirits ruled. In nearly every 
 drinking den on the beach quarrels were of hourly occurrence 
 
GREAT DAYS 285 
 
 and were often pursued to fatal issues, and the perpetual 
 danger made the life very vivid and interesting. For this 
 reason Jack spent a good deal of time at Pin's and often let 
 Gosport and Riding go backwards and forwards to Hurst- 
 point without him. 
 
 One morning he was told that someone wanted to see 
 him, and to his astonishment Colonel Caressa came in. 
 
 Jack went to him with both hands outstretched, but with 
 fear at his heart. 
 
 " What is it ? " he cried. 
 
 " Suzanne is dead," replied Caressa simply. 
 
 "Dead!" cried Jack. "How? Why?" 
 
 " She died in childbirth," said Caressa. " Sauvan did 
 his best ; we all did our best, but things went badly. The 
 child died next day. Suzanne asked me to see you to give 
 you a few words she had written three or four days before 
 the end, and I said I would give the letter to you myself. 
 Here it is." 
 
 Jack opened it and read : 
 
 " Je vais mourir, Jack ; je le sens, je le sais. On a de ces 
 pressentiments qui ne trompent guere. J'aurais voulu 
 mourir dans tes bras, mais tu n'aurais pas le temps de venir : 
 je serai seule. Ah, que c'est affreux d'etre seule. 
 
 " Tu laisseras bebe au petit pere, n'est-ce-pas ? Elle le 
 consolera. 
 
 " Je te donne mille gros baisers, mon Jack bien-aime. 
 Oh, que je voudrais te voir encore une fois, une seule fois ! 
 
 " Ca m'ennuie tant de mourir. 
 
 " Ta petite Suzanne qui t'aime." 
 
 Tears poured from Jack's eyes as he read ; the pity of it, 
 the forethought, the childish expressions wrung his heart. 
 
286 GREAT DAYS 
 
 He felt guilty, too ; full of remorse. He might have made 
 her so much happier. 
 
 In silence he handed the letter to Caressa, and the colonel 
 read it and handed it back again with quivering face. 
 
 " Do you wish to keep the child ? " asked Jack. 
 
 Caressa nodded : " If you would let me. . . . The house 
 seems empty now. You see, Suzanne and you were the only 
 persons I've cared for." 
 
 Jack's heart went out to the man. " Of course you shall 
 keep the child. I want to do whatever Suzanne wished, 
 but now and then you will let me come to see you both, 
 won't you ? " 
 
 " You'll always be welcome where I am," said Caressa 
 seriously. " You know that. But you won't be able to 
 come to Cherbourg for some time ; they all hate the English 
 now, ' perfide Albion? you know," and he shrugged his 
 shoulders deprecatingly. 
 
 The little colonel showed no desire to hurry back to the 
 prison ; he had always liked Jack intensely and now he seemed 
 to want him more than ever, and Jack felt the same pull. 
 The two soon settled down almost like father and son to a 
 life in common. 
 
 At first they talked of old times, and Jack heard all the 
 news of Sauvan, Chichet, and Suzanne's illness, but gradually 
 the world about them drew them irresistibly. 
 
 If the wild, hot life of the camp had interested Jack it 
 interested the little fighting colonel ten times as keenly. 
 He was at his best in a row, and his position and high courage 
 quickly gave him a unique place among the French 
 smugglers. 
 
 He became a sort of arbiter in all the quarrels that sprang 
 
GREAT DAYS 287 
 
 up, and soon he was as interested in the camp and its passions 
 as if he had been a smuggler himself. 
 
 The quarrels among the smugglers, which at first had been 
 sporadic and individual, had gradually become international, 
 and now involved whole groups. Pin's house was regarded 
 as the English headquarters, mainly because it had been 
 frequented for years by Jack, Riding, Gosport, and the others 
 from Hurstpoint, and before Caressa's arrival Jack had been 
 called out more than once at night to put an end to some 
 free fight which had arisen apparently without cause. The 
 English sailors, Jack had to admit, were usually the aggressors. 
 Their quarrels were mere fist fights and comparatively 
 harmless ; the Frenchmen, on the other hand, did not 
 understand fisticuffs ; they used knives, and holding together 
 more closely often handled the English severely. Again and 
 again Riding and Jack had proposed a sort of international 
 court to settle all differences, but the sailors of both nations 
 were too newly accustomed to freedom to submit to any 
 form of authority. 
 
 Caressa had been living with Jack a month or two when 
 a row broke out in one of the low drinking-dens almost at 
 the water's edge. It began, as usual, with a quarrel over 
 a girl, and the English sailor tried to end it by knocking his 
 French rival down. In a moment the French sailors in the 
 place had drawn their knives, and the fight became serious. 
 In five minutes the handful of English were driven out of 
 the cafe pell-mell, and immediately ran about collecting 
 new partisans. The fight was renewed on a larger scale, 
 and the English sailors, hopelessly in the minority, were 
 chased up the hillside to Pin's. Jack came downstairs to 
 stop the tumult and pacify the combatants, but the blood 
 
288 GREAT DAYS 
 
 of the Frenchmen was up, and the certainty of victory made 
 them aggressive, and before he knew how it came about 
 Jack was hurled into the cafe with a long knife sticking in his 
 shoulder. 
 
 Once inside the room, however, which could only be 
 entered from the outside by the one door, and so put the 
 minority to a certain extent on an equality with the invaders, 
 the English sailors took up chairs, tore off the table-legs, 
 and stood to it stoutly. Again and again the French were 
 thrust out, and the fight was raging hotly when Caressa 
 rushed into the room, and whipping out his sword posted 
 himself at the door and soon brought his compatriots to 
 reason. 
 
 Next morning the little colonel went about among the 
 French sailors and induced them to choose a committee 
 who would meet a committee of Englishmen and lay down 
 rules for the preservation of order and good fellowship. 
 Before Jack's slight wound was healed the joint committee 
 had been established and was working satisfactorily. The 
 quarrels at once became milder, partly because both parties 
 could hope for immediate, if rough, justice, and partly 
 because the whole camp about this time began to be held 
 together by pressure from the outside. 
 
 One morning after Jack had recovered from the dig in the 
 shoulder the colonel began : 
 
 " Do you know what's taking place on the height yonder ?" 
 
 " No," replied Jack, " I'm not much interested in what 
 goes on outside the camp." 
 
 " Bonaparte," said Caressa, " is forming a place cFarmes 
 there for the invasion of England." 
 
 " I've noticed a good many soldiers about," Jack admitted, 
 
 
GREAT DAYS 289 
 
 " but they never bother us and we don't interfere with 
 ' them." 
 
 " But now Bonaparte's coming himself," the old man 
 insisted, " things will begin to move. There'll be a hundred 
 thousand men there very soon." 
 
 " But how does he propose to get a hundred thousand 
 men across to England ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " He's going to collect a fleet of flat-bottomed boats, I 
 understand," said the little colonel, " here at Boulogne 
 and at Wimereux, and under the lee of Cape Grisnez ; he'll 
 find a way across, never fear." 
 
 Jack smiled ; the colonel's credulous belief in his hero no 
 longer touched him as it had done before he heard Mr. 
 Fox's estimate of the First Consul. Jack no longer believed 
 in Bonaparte's invincibility. 
 
 Together they walked up the hill outside the limit of the 
 fishing-village and on to the ridge that stretches away to 
 Boulogne. Jack was astounded to find men in every direc- 
 tion labouring with feverish earnestness. Outside the limits 
 of the tented camp, which was like a bee-hive abuzz with 
 workers, the Boulonnais had already begun to put up wooden 
 shops, and at every nook in any of the three or four roads 
 that converged on the high plateau there were already 
 wooden cafes filled with soldiers. Here they came upon 
 a whole regiment of sapeurs widening and improving the 
 road ; there another company was making a bridge ; a 
 little further on they saw a knot of engineer officers, and 
 to the left in a little hollow the white tents of ten or fifteen 
 thousand soldiers who had already taken up their quarters. 
 
 " You see f " cried Caressa. 
 
 Impressed in spite of himself Jack replied simply : " I 
 see everything but the wings." U 
 
290 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " He'll provide the wings," crowed Caressa, " you'll 
 soon see. He has already overcome all the difficulties in his 
 head." 
 
 Jack shrugged his shoulders ; discussion even was 
 impossible. 
 
 After Caressa had gone back to his post Jack saw that 
 some of his predictions at least were in a fair way to be 
 realised. The little harbour was gradually taken possession 
 of by French sailors and soldiers ; flat-bottomed boats, 
 large and small, arrived in scores ; the camp on the heights 
 grew almost as quickly as the days lengthened ; and at length 
 Jack felt obliged to return to Hurstpoint to see how his 
 countrymen intended to meet the threatened invasion. 
 
 He found England aflame with warlike ardour ; volun- 
 teers had come together in crowds ; over two hundred 
 thousand of them had already been supplied with arms, and 
 he felt sure that volunteers who knew the country and were 
 helped by the hedged and narrow English roads could put 
 up a desperate resistance. But England set her chief trust 
 in her navy, and in this showed her good sense. The strait 
 between the two countries was patrolled by British frigates, 
 and British men-o'-war were never far off. 
 
 It would be an extremely hazardous, an almost impossible 
 enterprise, Jack saw, to attempt an invasion so long as the 
 British held command of the sea. 
 
 A private disappointment was more important to him 
 than the impending incursion. He learned from his sister 
 that Sir George Barren was dead and that Lady Barren, out 
 of dislike of The Court, had gone up to London, taking 
 Margaret with her. 
 
 " She knows Suzanne's dead," said his sister. " Riding 
 
GREAT DAYS 291 
 
 told us months ago when she happened to be here. Riding 
 is devoted to you," she added. 
 
 His father and Gosport both tried to interest Jack in the 
 building of the new brigantine, the Wasp. They were at the 
 yard every day, and they hoped to launch the little craft 
 before the end of the summer. 
 
 Brandy and French wine were once more going up in 
 price by leaps and bounds, and Jack crossed again toWimereux 
 to arrange for a large cargo. He found that in the few weeks 
 of his absence the preparations for invasion had made extra- 
 ordinary progress. Every day now regiments were being 
 practised in embarking on the great flat-bottomed boats, 
 which were then rowed out to sea ; when they returned 
 the soldiers were practised in disembarking with the utmost 
 rapidity. The way the artillerymen got their heavy guns 
 on board and back again excited Jack's admiration. Every 
 engineering detail had evidently been studied with the 
 greatest care, and sailors and soldiers alike were excellent ; 
 a spirit of energy and resolution reigned on all sides, and the 
 practice seemed to be taken as seriously as men usually 
 take warfare. 
 
 Against his will Jack was forced again and again to realise 
 that the spirit of the whole thing was due to the presence of 
 the leader. As soon as Bonaparte returned to Paris for any 
 reason the preparations slacked off ; men appeared to lose 
 their keenness. When he returned again everything was 
 at once keyed up to concert pitch. In spite of himself Jack 
 became interested. The military camp had now grown to 
 such dimensions that everything else was swallowed up as 
 in some huge maelstrom. In the first days of July there 
 were already a hundred thousand men encamped on the 
 
292 GREAT DAYS 
 
 heights, and fleets on fleets of every description of gunboats 
 and shallow craft filled every harbour and inlet from Cape 
 Grisnez to far south of Boulogne. 
 
 One morning an order was given at about six o'clock, and 
 before seven over twenty-five thousand men had been 
 embarked, almost without a hitch, and twenty-five thousand 
 more were parked about the port waiting for their turn, 
 while the height behind was like a flower-bed, with tens of 
 thousands of soldiers in varied uniforms. 
 
 Everyone turned out to witness the spectacle. Suddenly 
 Jack noticed a knot of officers on the height overlooking the 
 scene. They were not very far away, and they all formed 
 a background to the one figure who sat on his horse looking 
 down on the brilliant show. " Bonaparte ! Bonaparte ! " 
 
 The word flew from mouth to mouth, and the cheering 
 that began on the heights about him spread down in wider 
 and wider circle till it was taken up by the thousands in 
 the harbour and echoed and re-echoed by those already in 
 the boats : " Vive Bonaparte ! Vive le Premier Consul ! " 
 
 As Jack turned and followed the cheers to the water he saw 
 in the offing some four or five miles away an English frigate 
 under easy sail. He smiled at the sight with a certain 
 pride. . . . 
 
 A few evenings later he was sitting in the inn when a 
 couple of the French committee came in accompanied by a 
 general. 
 
 " Are you English ? " the officer asked Jack. 
 
 " Yes," said Jack, astonished to hear himself addressed 
 in his own tongue. 
 
 " A sailor too ? " the general questioned further. 
 
 " Yes," replied Jack, still in wonderment. 
 
GREAT DAYS 293 
 
 " I want you to come with our two friends here," the 
 officer went on in French, " to headquarters at Boulogne 
 this evening. General Bonaparte wishes to see you after 
 dinner. Is there anyone else we should have with us ? " 
 he asked in French, addressing the two members of the 
 French committee, Lacloche and Gaudin. 
 
 " No," said Lacloche, who was a Norman. " I think 
 we three can tell the First Consul anything he wants to 
 know especially Monsieur Morgan," he added, " for he 
 knows France as well as England." 
 
 Jack's appearance seemed to have impressed the officer 
 a little, for he now introduced himself. 
 
 " My name's de Vinzel," he said shortly. " I'm a major- 
 general. Because I know English pretty well the First 
 Consul sent me to pick out the best men among the smugglers 
 to give him some information. Of course," he added 
 in English, " if you object to be questioned it might be 
 possible to get someone else in your place." 
 
 " I don't object," replied Jack. 
 
 " It will be an interesting experience, eh ? " probed the 
 general, looking at him. 
 
 Jack flushed, feeling himself divined. 
 
 He began in turn to study the general. De Vinzel was 
 evidently an interesting personality, a man about middle 
 height, hardly more than thirty years of age, with fine, 
 steadfast brown eyes and peculiarly well-cut, squarish face. 
 The lines of the forehead were square and the same lines 
 came on down, only getting a little finer to the jaw. An 
 interesting, handsome man. Jack felt moved in spite of 
 himself by the quiet, meditative regard and courteous, 
 reserved manner. 
 
294 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " Why did you think I might object ? " asked Jack after 
 a pause. 
 
 The question seemed to embarrass the general a little. 
 
 " Out of patriotism," he replied at length, " you might 
 hesitate to give information to an enemy of your country." 
 
 There was an implied reproof in the words which annoyed 
 Jack. 
 
 " Who could force me to give such information unless I 
 wished to ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " Bonaparte usually gets what he wants," replied de Vinzel. 
 " He has many means," he added in a curious, detached way, 
 almost as if warning his companion. 
 
 " You don't like him," said Jack, quickly drawing the 
 inference that the man's cool tone amid the general hero- 
 worship showed rooted dislike. 
 
 " I both admire and like him," replied de Vinzel shortly, 
 as if he resented the other's frankness. " But let us dine 
 somewhere," he went on in a more friendly manner, " and 
 we shall perhaps come through words to feelings and closer 
 acquaintance." 
 
 They dined together, but both were conscious of a wall of 
 separation between them. 
 
 Jack was intent on finding out what de Vinzel thought of 
 Bonaparte, and de Vinzel seemed almost as eager to discover 
 what was going on in England. But in spite of the guarded 
 attitude both preserved they came to feel a certain intellectual 
 sympathy for each other before the dinner was over. 
 
 About a quarter past seven de Vinzel got Jack and the two 
 French sailors into a carriage and started for the French 
 headquarters in the old town. 
 
 As they drove through the streets Jack was struck by the 
 
GREAT DAYS 295 
 
 discipline and order that reigned among the tens of thousands 
 of soldiers who were lodged in and near the town. He was 
 astonished, too, at the royal state with which the general- 
 in-chief was surrounded. Chamberlains succeeded officers 
 in the ante-chambers, and the door of the room in which 
 they were finally asked to wait was guarded by two ushers in 
 gorgeous livery. 
 
 In ten minutes de Vinzel was sent for, and five minutes 
 later he returned, and with the words, " The general will 
 see you at once," led the way to the door. 
 
 In spite of himself Jack was considerably affected by the 
 glittering uniforms, the formal ceremony, the deference shown 
 to the great man. As he entered the room his heart beat 
 quickly ; he was excited, eager to see the man of whom all 
 Europe was talking. He had only time to notice that the 
 room was large and brilliantly lighted, when a little, thin man, 
 who had been walking up and down, turned and came quickly 
 towards them. At first Jack saw nothing but a face which 
 looked as if it had been carved in old ivory, and imperious, 
 enigmatic eyes. Bonaparte stopped before them while de 
 Vinzel bowed. 
 
 " Voici les hommes, mon general." 
 
 Jack had time to have a good look at him, for the First 
 Consul was intent on examining first Lacloche and then 
 Gaudin. Jack was conscious from their attitudes, though he 
 did not look at them, that both the sailors were overawed 
 almost to stupidity, but he had eyes only for Bonaparte. 
 He was struck at once by the high, challenging nose, which 
 in profile was much more prominent than he had imagined 
 from print or caricature, and the strong, hard jaw and chin. 
 As Bonaparte turned his eyes on him Jack saw that his face 
 
296 GREAT DAYS 
 
 was finely balanced, the forehead notably high and broad, 
 owing partly to premature baldness. When their glances 
 met Jack was annoyed to find that he had need of some 
 resolution to endure Bonaparte's hawklike gaze. Almost im- 
 mediately the general turned from him with impatient haste. 
 
 " What have you to tell me ? " he asked curtly, address- 
 ing Lacloche. " The matter's simple : here an army of a 
 hundred and fifty thousand men with four thousand boats, 
 there a strait seven leagues wide. How long will it take 
 to get across, given calm weather ? " 
 
 Big Lacloche turned his cap in his hand. " Mais, 
 monseigneur " he stammered ; " cela depend " 
 
 " De quoi ? " snapped Bonaparte. 
 
 " Du temps," he blurted out. 
 
 " Imbecile ! " cried Bonaparte. " I supposed * calm 
 weather.' " 
 
 " And you ? " he demanded shortly, addressing Gaudin. 
 Gaudin looked at Lacloche and flushed brick-red. It was 
 plain that neither of them had any wits to spare. 
 
 " Coglioni," barked Bonaparte in his native Italian, turn- 
 ing from them contemptuously. 
 
 " To look at you, one would think you had wits," he added, 
 addressing Jack sharply. " Can you answer me ? " 
 
 " Eight to ten hours," replied Jack, " under the most 
 favourable conditions." 
 
 " Ha ! " cried Bonaparte, interested at once, " those con- 
 ditions occur once a week, I'm told." 
 
 " Not nearly so often," Jack replied. " The sea must be 
 quiet for the overloaded, flat-bottomed boats, and there 
 must be a gentle breeze from the east, or you wouldn't get 
 speed enough to carry them across the tide." 
 
GREAT DAYS 297 
 
 " Tide ? " exclaimed Bonaparte, " has that to be taken 
 into account as well as the wind ? " 
 
 " Certainly," replied Jack, " you must have at least one 
 tide against you." 
 
 Bonaparte lifted and dropped his hands impatiently. 
 " God fights for the shopkeepers," he muttered. 
 
 Again Jack used the moment Bonaparte passed in thought 
 to note that he was very thin, and his skin saffron-yellow, 
 though he appeared to be in perfect health. Jack saw, too, 
 that he himself, though only just average height, was at 
 least three inches taller than the First Consul. 
 
 His examination was interrupted by another sharp ques- 
 tion : 
 
 " How often, in your opinion, will favourable conditions 
 occur ? " 
 
 " Perhaps a dozen times in the course of the summer," 
 replied Jack. 
 
 " The thing's only a ditch, and with a pinch of courage 
 it can be jumped," * exclaimed Bonaparte, his eyes flaming. 
 
 Jack smiled. u The jumper mustn't be hindered." 
 
 For one moment Bonaparte's eyes held Jack's ; then he 
 turned abruptly to de Vinzel. 
 
 " Take the two away ; give them a thousand francs each. 
 Wait till I ring." 
 
 De Vinzel took Lacloche and Gaudin from the room, while 
 Bonaparte waited immobile as stone. Jack felt that some- 
 thing decisive was coming, yet he could not help studying 
 the man before him instead of thinking of his own position. 
 Bonaparte half turned aside. Jack noticed now that he had 
 thrust his right hand into his coat and looked exactly like 
 * Ipsissima verba. 
 
298 GREAT DAYS 
 
 Prudhon's famous picture : the head bent forward almost 
 on his chest, the prone brow, the inscrutable eyes. He 
 noticed, too, the First Consul's dress : the long, green coat, 
 buttoned high on the chest, with red collar and red facings, 
 the white waistcoat and white breeches, skin tight, that 
 fitted into high, soft boots boots a la Saxe, as they were 
 called : the uniform of the Chasseurs a Cbeval of the Guard. 
 This man was always a soldier. 
 
 Even after the door closed behind de Vinzel, Bonaparte 
 remained for some little time without speaking. Then 
 he turned to Jack and began in a completely different 
 tone: 
 
 " There's an English frigate always in view ; is she alone ? " 
 
 " I don't know that I ought to answer," Jack replied 
 quietly, " but I suppose you know : she is, and she isn't." 
 
 " Lord Keith has ships within call," inferred Bonaparte 
 quickly. " But his fleet could be overpowered ; we've a 
 hundred ships of war in the harbour here already." 
 
 " Nelson's behind Keith," said Jack. 
 
 " He could be outwitted." 
 
 Jack lifted his brows and was silent. 
 
 " You're an Englishman ? " Bonaparte darted the 
 question at him. 
 
 Jack shrugged his shoulders. " I suppose so." 
 
 " Where did you learn French ? " 
 
 " In your prison at Cherbourg," Jack answered. u I 
 married the niece of Colonel Caressa," he added. 
 
 " Caressa ! " cried Bonaparte, " I remember him well, a 
 true patriot ! Then you are half French," he went on, his 
 eyes now shining on Jack's, irradiating kindness. " Come, 
 come," he said familiarly, " you'll tell me what I want to 
 
GREAT DAYS 299 
 
 know," and he came close to Jack, tapping him the while 
 with his forefinger on the chest. 
 
 " I want to know," he repeated. " You see I put my 
 cards on the table," he broke off, " now I know I'm speaking 
 to a relative of Caressa. I want to know whether it is 
 possible to get that English frigate and the English fleet 
 behind it out of the way for twelve hours on one of those 
 occasions when you say the conditions will be favourable 
 for crossing." 
 
 " That wouldn't help you," replied Jack. " You must 
 have control of the sea or the risk would be too great. 
 England lends itself to defence." 
 
 " Control of the sea ? " repeated Bonaparte, as if doubt- 
 ful ; " none of my admirals will promise me that. Is it 
 possible ? " 
 
 For a while Jack thought without finding a way out$a>f 
 the difficulty; then, endowing himself with Bonaparte's 
 power, the solution of the problem came to him. 
 
 " Quite possible in six months," he replied, " but not 
 at once." 
 
 Again Bonaparte's eyes became inscrutable and held him. 
 :< You are a sailor," he snapped, " and know the conditions ; 
 you are sure ? " 
 
 " Quite sure." 
 
 " Of course," exclaimed Bonaparte, " I, too, was sure 
 it was possible. I've wanted to meet a sailor with brains 
 for a long time. Tell me your plan," he added simply. 
 
 " I can't," said Jack, pulling himself free from the 
 searching eyes ; and the next moment was angry with 
 himself for shrinking from the scrutiny. " I'm English," 
 he added, " and I've fought against you." 
 
300 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " But you were treated properly ; you were set free. 
 You married a Frenchwoman ; you're half a Frenchman," 
 cried Bonaparte, with singular rapidity. 
 
 Still Jack shook his head, meeting the eyes now fairly, 
 though for a moment he had the sensation of the fencer 
 when his opponent is about to lunge in. 
 
 The next moment the intent look from Bonaparte's face 
 vanished, the cloud of thought and anger cleared magically. 
 Suddenly he turned to Jack. 
 
 " Why shouldn't you be French altogether, mon ami ? " 
 he smiled. " I reward talent, insight, genius more than 
 anyone ever rewarded it," he added hastily. " You're a 
 smuggler at variance with your own country, almost an 
 outlaw. Be a Frenchman, help me with your special 
 knowledge, and I will do anything you wish, reward you in 
 any way you may choose." 
 
 Jack stood motionless, but could hardly help smiling. 
 England had refused to consider him as the equal of the 
 youngest French officer ; England still, in spite of Fox's 
 pleading, denied him a commission, yet 
 
 " Come, come," said Bonaparte, and his eyes were kindly 
 and his voice had an infinite persuasiveness in it. " I 
 don't know the reward you want. Tell it me ; you'll find 
 I am not a shopkeeper ; I don't huckster and misprize rare 
 gifts. Are you poor ? " he went on quickly. 
 
 Jack shook his head. 
 
 Bonaparte threw his hands up in the same impatient 
 gesture. 
 
 " Help me. Choose the reward you please ; it shall 
 be yours." 
 
 Jack remained silent. 
 
GREAT DAYS 301 
 
 " Wouldn't it be better," said Bonaparte slowly, " for 
 you to be a French admiral ; to go back to Cherbourg 
 with absolute power, and reorganise our Northern fleet 
 rather than go on as an English smuggler ? Think," he 
 said ; " I left Corsica for France because the field was 
 larger, the reward higher. Why shouldn't you leave 
 England for France for the same reason ? " 
 
 Bonaparte believed that Jack was hesitating, and at once 
 tried to play on another string. 
 
 " England hasn't treated you over well," he went on, 
 " or you would never have been a smuggler. What loyalty 
 do you owe the petty shopkeepers who fight like dogs 
 without knowing why they're fighting, who ill-treat all 
 their best men like Fox and yourself, and prefer hide- 
 bound pedants and preposterous little lordlings to men 
 of original force and talent ? " 
 
 Still Jack did not answer. It was all true, he felt, all 
 true, and the classing him with Fox sent warm blood 
 leaping through his veins. 
 
 " What kindness do you owe those who ill-treat you 
 and underrate you ? " the persuasive voice went on. " Ubi 
 bene est, ibi patria ! That's one of the scraps of Latin 
 that has stuck in my memory." 
 
 Jack struggled. What was it Fox had said ? " One 
 doesn't turn against one's mother." He shook his head. 
 " I'm sorry " 
 
 Bonaparte cut him short. " Don't make up your mind 
 at once," he said ; " important decisions need reflection, 
 careful thought." His sentences fell like bullets. " Great 
 opportunities do not occur often ; great men need great 
 lieutenants. You're sure," he probed him again, " it's 
 
302 GREAT DAYS 
 
 possible to win the mastery of the sea in half a 
 year ? " 
 
 Jack nodded. 
 
 " I knew it," cried Bonaparte, as if to himself. " All 
 things are possible to a brain that knows the conditions. 
 
 " Think it over," he went on. " I'm glad to know 
 Caressa's nephew-in-law ; the colonel will have told you 
 that I am not ungrateful," he added, smiling, " and if 
 you help me in this he shall judge between us." 
 
 Jack realised that when he chose this man could be 
 charming. His smile was full of kindness, his manner had 
 a familiar courtesy in it that was fascinating. 
 
 The next moment Bonaparte turned to the usher who 
 had entered. 
 
 " Send General de Vinzel to me," he said quietly. 
 
 Before Jack had time to think de Vinzel came into the 
 room. 
 
 " General," said Napoleon to him, " this gentleman and 
 I have had a talk, and I hope to have many more with him. 
 Will you take care of him ? See that he is well cared for." 
 
 " Oh, mon general" Jack broke in, replying to Bonaparte, 
 " I am staying at Pin's cafe at Wimereux ; if you will 
 allow me to go back there I shall always be at hand if I'm 
 wanted." 
 
 " The carriage in which we came," added de Vinzel, " is 
 still waiting, and the two sailors are ready to go back with 
 this gentleman." 
 
 " As you will," decided Bonaparte. " If you'll wait for 
 five minutes," he added, smiling, while waving Jack to the 
 door, " I have something to say to the general, and he will 
 go with you. 
 
GREAT DAYS 303 
 
 " Bon soir," he added, by way of dismissal, " bon soir, 
 mon ami, et au revoir," and the interview was over. 
 
 Jack went into the next room with his thoughts and 
 emotions all in a whirl. He wanted to arrange them, to 
 come to some definite conclusion. 
 
 Bonaparte was a great man : that he felt, certainly. 
 Fox had not been fair to him. Why ? Probably because 
 Bonaparte was too imperious, too quick, assumed superiority 
 at once. But he had rare force and persuasiveness ; the 
 touch of familiarity was the subtlest flattery. 
 
 " Do I feel the speed and power and charm of the man 
 so intensely," he next asked himself, " because I'm inferior 
 to Fox ? " 
 
 Fox's words came back to him : " Bonaparte could 
 probably strike quickly and relentlessly." He meant per- 
 haps that Bonaparte was effective because he was narrow, 
 a torrent held to directness by stone banks. He had under- 
 rated the man. 
 
 Judging himself and others in this way Jack never even 
 thought of the difference of age and its effects. He had 
 realised that Fox was a master of words, astonishingly 
 articulate. He could not expect to be the equal of a master 
 in this field who had perfected his gift in twenty years of 
 constant practice. He could not help being struck by 
 Bonaparte's mastery of men and command of motives, but 
 Bonaparte had been using these instruments now as a master 
 for ten years. Jack's ability showed itself in weighing such 
 men. Though he felt their superior talents acutely he was 
 not really cast down by them. 
 
 He must now make up his mind what he would do ; 
 he felt the full importance of the decision. Napoleon 
 
3 o 4 GREAT DAYS 
 
 would keep his word, of that there could be no doubt ; 
 he would not hesitate to make him an admiral at once, 
 give him power, to boot, and judge him by his achieve- 
 ments. More no one could want. Life seemed to open 
 before him with infinite possibilities ; the scales dropped 
 from his eyes. He knew of a surety that if he were in 
 command at Cherbourg for three or four months he could 
 fit out a host of Wasps, a thousand of them that would 
 sweep the British fleets from the sea ; half a dozen or a 
 dozen Wasps against each battleship, every Wasp able to 
 choose her own distance, able to strike without being 
 struck again the result was certain. 
 
 The hot blood poured through him in triumph ; he 
 thrilled with joy. It was the old story of the Armada 
 over again : three or four little English ships to one big 
 Spaniard, the English ships having no advantage but speed 
 and alertness ; every Spanish giant taken an event, whereas 
 when a little English ship went down no one noticed 
 it ; it did not count. Victory must always be with the 
 Wasps. Besides, the small ships make the best sailors, and 
 it is the sailors win battles. 
 
 Throbbing with exultation he realised that in mind 
 already he had created a new navy an invincible fleet 
 at a minimum of cost. He could do all Bonaparte wanted, 
 and more, much more. After Bonaparte he would be the 
 first man in France. He could make the French fleet as 
 powerful as the French army. His thoughts towered ; 
 instinctively he turned and walked resolutely to the door. 
 If the tempter had come to him then the result might 
 have been different. But Bonaparte had many things to 
 do, and as the door opened de Vinzel came in. 
 
GREAT DAYS 305 
 
 " You ? " cried Jack, with a spasm of disappointment. 
 
 " At your service," said de Vinzel quietly. " I have 
 sent the sailors back," he went on ; "I want to have a 
 talk with you a long talk." 
 
 Jack nodded. 
 
3o6 GREAT DAYS 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 JACK followed de Vinzel almost without thought of 
 where he was going or why. He was living in 
 the new realm of his own imagining. Was it for 
 this gorgeous conception of a new fleet, he wondered, that 
 he had been born, just for this that he had been trained 
 for years and years as a seaman ; for this that he had met 
 Gosport and given him the chance of showing what could 
 be done ? How simple it all was : it was the lesson of all 
 warfare to strike without being struck back, and the other 
 lesson was just as weighty that one man, one thought, 
 might be more important than a whole navy and a hundred 
 thousand trained seamen. 
 
 Jack was to learn more still before this memorable evening 
 came to an end. 
 
 Following de Vinzel he went through a long corridor 
 which evidently led into another house. Suddenly his 
 guide threw open a door and ushered him into a pleasant, 
 small room with many books in it and two or three portraits. 
 
 " My quarters," de Vinzel said ; " take a seat, won't 
 you ? and let's have a talk." 
 
 Mechanically Jack sat down, and de Vinzel drew up 
 opposite him. 
 
 " General Bonaparte thinks very highly of you," said 
 de Vinzel, " he told me to say so. He believes that you 
 
GREAT DAYS 307 
 
 know how to get rid of the British fleet and how to win 
 the mastery of the sea." 
 
 Jack smiled, still glowing. 
 
 " It's true, then ? " de Vinzel went on, with quick 
 interest lighting up his face. 
 
 Jack nodded. " The certainty came to me," he con- 
 fessed, " when Bonaparte talked of making me a French 
 admiral, and giving me command in Cherbourg over the 
 Northern French fleet. Till then I didn't see my way. 
 He told me to choose my own reward," said Jack. " A 
 man's real reward," he added, " is the opportunity to do 
 big things." 
 
 " I see," exclaimed de Vinzel, " he uses persuasive 
 arguments." 
 
 Jack felt a certain reproof in his tone which he scarcely 
 understood. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " he asked. 
 
 " Only that big things are sometimes bad things, aren't 
 they ? and better left undone," replied de Vinzel quietly. 
 
 " I suppose so," Jack admitted ; " yet they tempt one, 
 and there's satisfaction in the doing." 
 
 De Vinzel's brows went up disdainfully. 
 
 " You don't agree with me," cried Jack. " Tell me 
 exactly what you think, won't you ? " 
 
 " Many things," replied de Vinzel, " which I hardly 
 know how to make plain, and yet which I believe I ought 
 to lay before you. Have you resolved to yield to the 
 persuasion, and do what General Bonaparte wishes ? " he' 
 asked. 
 
 Recalled to himself by the direct question, Jack hesitated. 
 " I have not decided," he replied, " but if I had the power 
 
3 o8 GREAT DAYS 
 
 for six months I could do big things. That tempts me 
 not the reward, nor the honours." 
 
 De Vinzel nodded. " Yet you still hesitate ? " 
 
 " I still hesitate," replied Jack ; " it's hard to turn 
 against one's country," he added, as if forced to explain. 
 
 Again de Vinzel nodded, and silence came upon the two. 
 
 " I wonder," said de Vinzel, " if I talked about myself 
 whether you would understand ? I'm going to try, if I 
 don't bore you," he added. 
 
 " No, no," said Jack, " on the contrary, you interest me. 
 I shall be glad to hear." 
 
 " I'm a Breton," de Vinzel began, " and was brought 
 up in a little manor house on the coast by my mother ; 
 trained devoutly as a Catholic, taught to love the Church 
 and to honour the king ; surrounded the while with such 
 indulging love and tenderness as few men ever know. 
 Whatever I am or whatever I may become, I owe to my 
 mother. 
 
 " In spite of all her care and all the teaching," he went 
 on, " I began at sixteen or seventeen to think for myself, 
 and soon came to doubt everything I had been taught. 
 Before the opening of the Revolution, already in 1788, I 
 was a revolutionary a revolutionary at eighteen with a 
 devout mother, who was horrified by the mere notion of 
 the common people attempting to govern the clergy and 
 nobles and king " 
 
 After a pause he began in another tone. " I came to 
 believe in my judgment a little," he resumed, " because 
 I continually foresaw event after event that afterwards 
 took place. I knew the Girondists were doomed because 
 of their moderation, while everyone looked upon them as 
 
GREAT DAYS 309 
 
 extremists. I foresaw the victory of the Jacobins. Only 
 one mistake I made : I believed in Mirabeau and Danton 
 as in Elijah and Elisha, and it is Robespierre and Bonaparte 
 who won, because they desired power more than the others 
 desired it. 
 
 " For my mother's sake," he went on, " I could take 
 no hand in the game so long as she lived, but she died 
 suddenly, when I was twenty-five, and at once I astonished 
 the curb and all my friends by taking up arms for the republic. 
 They had all expected that I would be a chouan. I preferred 
 to fight under General Marceau a great man," he went 
 on, " as great perhaps as the First Consul." 
 
 " Why, then, did Bonaparte rise above all the others ? " 
 asked Jack. 
 
 " Surely the explanation's simple," cried de Vinzel. " In 
 his youth he saw Paoli make himself master of Corsica ; 
 he fought for him and he fought against him, and was 
 beaten. Bonaparte learned from Paoli how easy it is for 
 a general to make himself a despot, and he set himself to 
 follow Paoli's example on a larger stage." 
 
 " That's probably true," said Jack. " Is he a marvellous 
 general ? " 
 
 " A very good general," replied de Vinzel quietly ; " but 
 hardly more. It seems to me a great general must invent 
 something new, a new arm like the long spears which Philip 
 and Alexander gave the Macedonians, or a new formation 
 like the Roman legion ; but Bonaparte has not had to 
 invent anything, and yet has conquered everywhere, simply 
 because he had the force and passion of the Revolution 
 behind him. . . . 
 
 " All nations were affected by our declaration of the 
 
3 io GREAT DAYS 
 
 brotherhood of man ; ' Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity ' 
 have carried the French arms from victory to victory. In 
 Italy our soldiers were welcomed everywhere, and even in 
 the villages on the Rhine we were cheered ; but as soon 
 as men come to see that Napoleon is merely fighting for 
 himself the result will be different." 
 
 Jack was curiously interested ; this man seemed to be 
 looking down on events from a height. He nodded en- 
 couragement, and de Vinzel went on : 
 
 " I cannot help believing that the Right must triumph : 
 my pious mother in me, I suppose. Had Bonaparte con- 
 tented himself with organising the spirit of the Revolution 
 how much greater he would have been. But always there's 
 the insane excess in him. After the great Italian campaign 
 of 1796, the mad dream of an empire in the east, and the 
 fiasco of Egypt. After his admirable work as First Consul, 
 his codifying of the laws, his foundation of the splendid 
 University system, this insane expedition against England. 
 He defies Providence with his mad ambition, and his love 
 of excessive risk is the mark of the adventurer. 
 
 " How much longer will he last ? That's the question. 
 I should despair of everything, of God and good, if he 
 went without defeat." 
 
 " Why don't you leave him ? " asked Jack, in amazement. 
 
 " There is a leaven of real wisdom in him," replied 
 de Vinzel. " He has done a great deal for France : these 
 new trunk roads he's making are fine, and he intends, I 
 hear, to bring the forest lands under wise central adminis- 
 tration. He's a great organiser, and industrial France needs 
 him, for feudal France is dead. 
 
 " I was very eager to see," he went on after a pause, 
 
GREAT DAYS 311 
 
 " whether you would be tempted to fight for him. You 
 will not, I think. That means the tide is already turning 
 against him. Had he been unselfish enough," he added, 
 " he might have won you, and perhaps with you the mastery 
 of the seas." 
 
 " I might have been killed," said Jack, shrugging his 
 shoulders, " on my way to Cherbourg." 
 
 " Of course," cried de Vinzel, " there's room for the 
 sceptical argument ; there is no rule without its exception. 
 Water does not always reach its level, but that's the ten- 
 dency ; the Right is always clothing itself with Might as 
 with a garment. . . . 
 
 " Here we two are," he said, stretching out his hands 
 to Jack, " both of us in much the same difficulty : I wanting 
 to fight for France and modern ideas and am engaged under 
 Bonaparte, who, I am afraid, is about to play emperor and 
 make himself a despot. I'm uncertain how far I ought to 
 go with him. And you've got much the same trouble, 
 only you must make up your mind at once, while I have 
 time." 
 
 "It's made up," said Jack. "Though I should like 
 power, like to create a great fleet, I cannot fight against 
 England. I think," he said, rising, " I had better get 
 back to Pin's." 
 
 Suddenly de Vinzel put his hand on his arm and spoke 
 with peculiar intensity. 
 
 " Further than Pin's, my friend," he said. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " You will cross to England to-night," said de Vinzel, 
 " if you're wise, immediately I leave you. Don't waste 
 a moment. Bonaparte has other means of persuasion," he 
 
312 GREAT DAYS 
 
 added ; " if rewards won't make you speak, punishments 
 might." 
 
 " You don't mean ? " cried Jack. 
 
 " I mean he might even kill in cold blood," replied de 
 Vinzel. " It's safer for you, much safer, to cross 
 to-night. . . . 
 
 " I am to conduct you to Pin's," he went on in his 
 ordinary tone, " and see you in safety there ; those are 
 my orders. I shall not go an inch beyond them. . . . 
 Some time or other I hope we may meet again," he 
 added. 
 
 The two walked in silence up the long hill. When they 
 reached the top de Vinzel began : 
 
 " I think you ought to know what Bonaparte told me 
 about you. ' If the Englishman has a sound plan,' he 
 said, ' and can really win for us the mastery of the sea, 
 he'll do it. If he refuses, it is because he can't do it. No 
 one could resist the rewards I offered him, no one in his 
 senses. I know men.' 
 
 " Bonaparte," de Vinzel went on, " seems incapable of 
 believing in high, unselfish motives ; and those motives," 
 he added in his impressive way, " are certain sooner or 
 later to bring him to ruin." 
 
 Jack heard him with a sort of awe ; he had not the 
 older man's certainty of faith, but he felt that what de 
 Vinzel said was more than likely to be right. 
 
 With such thoughts in mind the two came at length to 
 Pin's and said " Good-night " at the door. As de Vinzel 
 turned to walk away he cried out : " Au revoir" and was 
 gone into the darkness. Jack watched him disappear with 
 mingled feelings of wonder and sympathy. What an extra- 
 
GREAT DAYS 313 
 
 ordinary man ! Were there many Frenchman so wise and 
 clear-sighted ? Hardly. If such men as de Vinzel ever 
 came to power war would cease. . . . 
 
 Five minutes later he was in the little harbour, had 
 roused up a couple of fishermen, and with them an hour 
 later had sailed for Hurstpoint. 
 
GREAT DAYS 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 ALL the way across Jack's mind was at work. First 
 he went over every detail of his talk with Bona- 
 parte. He had in his mind, so to speak, a series 
 of photographs of him which all coalesced gradually into 
 one impression a carven marble face, all lines and sharpest 
 decision, a challenging, imperious nose, hard, inscrutable 
 eyes, and mitigating these an affectionate human voice : 
 " Mon ami" A quick, keen, resolute man, not without 
 many kindly virtues. But de Vinzel was right ; the great 
 pull of the world was against him, which was, after all, 
 another way of saying what Fox had said, that vanity, self- 
 esteem, was the rock on which Bonaparte might go down. 
 Suddenly the thought came into Jack's mind with a shock 
 that Fox was perhaps as great a man ; true, he had petty 
 aristocratic insolences about him and prejudices that the 
 First Consul had not got. Bonaparte, Jack felt, was simpler, 
 more human. But Fox was full of laughing kindness, too, 
 a rich, bold, generous nature. Who could say which was 
 the greater ? 
 
 And de Vinzel ? a sort of fanatic of the Revolution and 
 of the Right, a fine product. De Vinzel reminded him in 
 some ways of Carrol. It struck him that Carrol and Fox 
 were the English equivalents of de Vinzel and Bonaparte : 
 the Frenchmen freer of prejudice, more modern in spirit 
 
GREAT DAYS 315 
 
 and aim ; the Englishmen more whimsical. On this side 
 the amateur talents, so to speak, on that the professional 
 artists in life. That was what the French Revolution had 
 done, lifted France nearer to the ideal, made her more 
 modern than England. Would she keep her advantage ? 
 
 As soon as they got well to the south of the patrolling 
 English frigate they steered across, and next night Jack was 
 landed at Hurstpoint. After a long sleep in his own little 
 room he hurried downstairs to see his father and tell him 
 all about the First Consul. What would his father say 
 to Bonaparte's offer ? 
 
 After breakfast the two went out for a walk and Jack 
 told his father what Bonaparte had said. 
 
 " Why didn't you take his offer ? " asked the older man, 
 stopping in blank surprise. 
 
 " I couldn't," said Jack ; " he's righting now for his 
 own hand." 
 
 " That's what you ought to fight for," cried his father ; 
 " that's what everyone in this world fights for. If he had 
 offered me such a chance wouldn't I have jumped at it ! 
 What's England to you ? What has she ever done for 
 you ? " 
 
 " A great deal," said Jack, " more than we can ever 
 estimate. At any rate, I refused," he added. 
 
 " The more fool you," said the old man drily. 
 
 Jack took hold of his father's arm, laughing gaily. " You 
 don't even know," he cried, " whether I could have done 
 what Bonaparte wanted." 
 
 " I know you could have done better than anyone he 
 can get," replied his father stoutly, " and you'd have had 
 the reward. I've no patience with your scruples." 
 
316 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " Come, come," Jack replied, " you know you always 
 say I have too much of my mother in me ; in your heart 
 that's why you like me." 
 
 The old man stopped and looked at him quizzically with 
 his keen grey eyes. 
 
 " Perhaps it is," he said, smiling ; " but as you've made 
 up your mind," he went on, " I may give you something 
 now that has come for you," and he took an official letter 
 out of his pocket with " O. H. M. S." printed on the cover 
 and another smaller packet franked. 
 
 " Your commission, I expect," said his father. 
 
 Jack tore it open and found that the old man had guessed 
 right. It was his commission, and when he opened the 
 smaller packet he found it was a letter from Fox. 
 
 It ran : 
 
 " DEAR SIR, 
 
 " I take shame to myself for so long neglecting my 
 promise to you. But I can hardly repent of my fault, as 
 it brought me the acquaintance of a very charming woman, 
 who takes more interest in you than in a wilderness of 
 Foxes. 
 
 " Miss Barron reminded me of my promise to get you 
 a commission, and assured me that you had deserved it, 
 and I believe her. I hope you will do great things with 
 it, and change it for one of higher rank very quickly. 
 " The gout is in my hands or I might write more. 
 " Your obedient Servant, 
 
 " CHARLFS J. Fox." 
 
 " Now," said Jack to his father, pocketing the letter, 
 " let us get down to Chips and see if the brigantine is 
 ready. I'm eager to see," he went on, " whether if I had 
 
GREAT DAYS 317 
 
 accepted Bonaparte's offer I should have been successful 
 or not. We'll soon try my idea against a French ship." 
 
 " The new brigantine is all ready," said his father, 
 " except for her guns, and Gosport is at Portsmouth getting 
 the very biggest cannon he can find for both vessels. He's 
 been gone now over a month, and I expect him back every 
 day." 
 
 When they got to the harbour Jack was delighted to 
 see the two brigantines floating side by side. The new 
 vessel was some forty feet longer than the old, with higher 
 masts and doubtless a far larger spread of canvas. Nothing 
 would do on this very first day but that he should take 
 both vessels out for a cruise and see which was the faster. 
 He was delighted to find his father entered at once into 
 the spirit of the race with the zest of a young man. 
 
 " Let me have the little Dolphin" the old man cried, 
 "you take the new brigantine, the Wasp, and let Riding 
 take out the Bee, and money on it I'll beat you both round 
 a forty-mile course." 
 
 Jack looked up at the sky and then burst out laughing. 
 It was settled summer weather, with a light breeze of only 
 five or six knots an hour. It was very possible that his 
 father would win in the small cutter, for the light air 
 suited her better than it suited the larger vessels. The 
 old man, too, had chosen the course in order that he might 
 start at least with an advantage. He also stipulated that 
 each of them should set off as soon as he could, knowing 
 that that was pretty sure to give him quite five minutes' 
 start. They met Riding on the quay, but his father would 
 not stop to discuss anything with Riding. 
 
 " Everyone for himself, my boy ; I'm going to start as 
 
3i8 GREAT DAYS 
 
 soon as I can. You settle it with Riding as you like," and 
 in two minutes he had got into a boat and was being pulled 
 off to the Dolphin. 
 
 In a few seconds Jack told Riding what had been resolved 
 and sent him off on board the Bee. 
 
 When he himself reached the Wasp he found that she 
 was somewhat short-handed. Still, the score of sailors that 
 were on board were of a good class, and as soon as Jack 
 stepped on deck he found himself face to face with Weet- 
 man, who was now boatswain. In two words he told him 
 what was on foot, and sent him forward to get the sails 
 set. As his men tumbled up the hatchway Jack saw that 
 the little Dolphin had already slipped her moorings and 
 hoisted her jib, and with her mainsail half set was drawing 
 out of the harbour. 
 
 He grinned with delight at this evidence of his father's 
 keenness. 
 
 Riding, too, was using the big crew of the Bee for all 
 they were worth. Before Jack had got the first sail set he 
 saw the Bee passing him under a cloud of canvas on her 
 way after the Dolphin. Jack soon realised that he was at 
 many disadvantages. The ropes were all new, and as soon 
 as the sails felt the wind all the tackle began to stretch. 
 Again and again he had to make the men tauten up this 
 shroud and sheet and take an extra pull on that halyard. 
 But as soon as they were out of the harbour he realised 
 that the Wasp was very fast. The Dolphin had had quite 
 ten minutes' start, and was a mile away, a white-winged 
 bird creeping up to windward and already probably 
 weatherly enough to round the first buoy. Then came 
 the Bee about half a mile ahead, and last of all the Wasp. 
 
GREAT DAYS 3 '9 
 
 On the first lap the Wasp had outsailed the Bee, and 
 came round the buoy before her. But the little Dolphin 
 had almost held her lead, and was still perhaps some three- 
 quarters of a mile in front. She had rigged out a great 
 square sail, too, and was doing well, even before the wind. 
 
 Jack saw that his father was his only real antagonist. 
 But as soon as the Wasp was put before the wind she began 
 to show her speed. In half an hour she had overhauled 
 the Dolphin and then slid quickly past her and went on 
 alone. The crew, led by Weetman, gave a great cheer 
 which the " Dolphins " re-echoed with challenge. 
 
 Shortly after Jack had got ahead he began to hope that 
 something might take place in order that his father might 
 win. Curiously enough chance began to favour the old 
 man. In the full heat of the day the wind dropped to a 
 mere air, and the lighter vessel crept up on the leader, 
 foot by foot. It was almost a drifting match from one 
 o'clock to four, when the brigantine rounded the buoy, 
 with the Dolphin a few hundred yards behind. Here for 
 half an hour the wind seemed to cease altogether, and, 
 to Jack's amusement, his father got out oars and set his 
 crew to work to row the little Dolphin. He was not going 
 to be beaten if he could help it. In half an hour more the 
 Dolphin caught and passed them with a cheer. 
 
 In another half-hour she was well ahead, and when the 
 breeze sprang up it came off the land, and it was in vain 
 that Jack sailed the Wasp for all he was worth. The little 
 Dolphin entered the harbour a hundred yards or so before 
 him, and as she picked up her anchor her crew, led by his 
 father, cheered again and again, and Jack led cheers in 
 return. 
 
320 GREAT DAYS 
 
 To Jack's amusement his father took his victory quite 
 seriously. He protested that he had a right to use oars 
 or anything else, and he advised Jack quite gravely to put 
 five or six big sweeps on board the brigantine. 
 
 " In a calm," he said, " it might make all the difference 
 to you. The wise man profits by every lesson." 
 
 The race had been delightful, and Jack never forgot it. 
 
 Being impatient to get to sea he did his best to hasten 
 Gosport's return by sending Riding to Portsmouth to hurry 
 him up, and in the meantime he betook himself to The 
 Grange and told Carrol about his interview with Bonaparte 
 and his talk afterwards with de Vinzel. 
 
 To his surprise Carrol took it all as providential. 
 
 " No such thing as chance in the world," he declared, 
 his faith excluding doubt. " It is all ordained," he said, 
 " or, as I prefer to call it, the will of God. Sooner or later 
 even the Bonapartists will see that selfish ambition is as 
 silly as eating or drinking too much." 
 
 In a few days Gosport returned with the heaviest guns 
 he could find, two sixty-pounders ; in a week he had fitted 
 them on the two brigantines. Day by day, too, the men 
 he had engaged in Portsmouth came dropping in, so that 
 the Wasp had her full complement of eighty men before 
 the end of the week, while there were seventy on board 
 the Bee. 
 
 One quiet summer evening Jack gave the order to cast 
 off, and Weetman called up the crew to slip the anchor 
 and set sail. Slowly the brigantine drew out of the little 
 cove, followed by the Bee. Everyone seemed to feel the 
 importance of the occasion, tor Weetman raised his best 
 chanty : 
 
GREAT DAYS 321 
 
 On Gosport beach I landed, a place of noted fame, 
 I called for a bottle of brandy to treat my young flash game, 
 Her outside ribbons were all silk, her spencer a scarlet red, 
 We spent the day in sweet content, and at night we went to bed. 
 Repeat : And at night we went to bed. 
 
 After the first verse had been sung Gosport answered 
 the challenge with the famous man-o'-war song : 
 
 When I was young and scarce eighteen, I was a roaring blade, 
 And many's the little flirt I had with many a fair young maid ; 
 But my parents said it would not do for me to waste their store, 
 So soon they shipped me off to sea, on board of a man-o'-war. 
 
 Chorus : 
 
 Right fol the rol the riddle ; right fol the rol the ray ; 
 Right fol the rol the riddle ; right fol the rol the ray. 
 
 It was to the strains of this chorus that the crew tailed 
 on to the halyards and ran the sails up in double quick 
 time. 
 
 In spite of himself Jack's heart was beating as it had 
 never beaten on any previous cruise : he was eager to bring 
 his theory to the final test. Every day he exercised his 
 crew in setting and taking in sail, and smartened them up 
 by competition between the vessels and against time. 
 Every day, too, Gosport on the Wasp practised shooting 
 for an hour or two at a moving barrel against Newton 
 on the Bee. Occupied in this way the two vessels reached 
 the Bay all too quickly. Jack hoped to meet a brig or 
 corvette on its way up from some Spanish port perhaps 
 with orders. He knew that a naval fight at this time would 
 make a stir, for all England was tingling with fear of inva- 
 sion, and a decisive victory at sea would be taken as an 
 omen. For weary days and weeks he patrolled the Bay 
 
 Y 
 
322 GREAT DAYS 
 
 from Cherbourg to the Spanish coast, and back again ; but 
 after a month or so he had to return without capturing 
 anything better than a couple of fishing-craft, which he 
 restored to the owners on finding that the French fishermen 
 knew nothing of the movements of their own men-o'-war. 
 
 Somewhat crestfallen, Jack returned to Hurstpoint to 
 clean the bottoms of his ships and give his crews a week 
 or so on shore with fresh provisions. In a fortnight they 
 were in the Bay again, but the weather had altered. One 
 evening the clouds banked up about the setting sun and 
 the old promise of a westerly wind to follow was soon 
 fulfilled ; about four bells it began to blow hard. 
 
 Jack made the Wasp snug and kept within a quarter of 
 a mile of the Bee. By morning the strong breeze had 
 stiffened to a gale ; evidently they were in for the first 
 of the equinoctials. Just as eight bells went the masthead 
 watch hailed " A full-rigged ship on the lee bow." In 
 an hour they saw she was a French frigate, and a large one. 
 Jack could not make up his mind to get out of her way, 
 though even Gosport warned him that they would be at 
 a disadvantage with their one big gun against the frigate's 
 broadside with such a sea running. 
 
 " Our gun-carriage, sir," he said, " is not so steady as 
 theirs, and with only one gun at long bowls we may miss 
 a good many times." 
 
 But Jack simply could not run away and leave the chance 
 untried. If the odds in his favour were as great as he 
 believed, he must win sooner or later. 
 
 In another hour they were within two or three miles 
 of the frigate and could see her plainly. Suddenly a sus- 
 picion crossed Jack's mind. 
 
GREAT DAYS 323 
 
 " She looks very much like the frigate that took us," 
 he said, handing the glasses to Gosport. " What do you 
 think ? " 
 
 In a moment Gosport put the glass down. " It is the 
 Inflexible" he said, " forty guns all thirty-two pounders." 
 
 " We must have a slap at her," cried Jack, " tit for tat 
 is good for everyone." 
 
 Meanwhile the frigate came steadily on under all her 
 lower canvas, paying no attention whatever to the two 
 small craft that kept drawing towards her with the weather- 
 gage. Suddenly Jack ran up the English colours and 
 Gosport fired the big gun. In a moment the frigate had 
 triced up her ports and replied with a broadside that fell 
 short. The triangular duel had begun. 
 
 All through the day they pounded the frigate without 
 intermission. But the French captain was a brave fellow, 
 and while the fight was going on he had his carpenters 
 up repairing damages. At about four o'clock in the after- 
 noon Jack told Gosport to aim at the rigging. 
 
 At about six o'clock Newton carried away the frigate's 
 main royal mast, and while the big ship was disabled Jack 
 ran as near her stern as he dared and fired again, raking her. 
 As luck would have it this shot brought down her foremast. 
 The Frenchman at once fell away and let him have a broad- 
 side, but the shots did little damage. 
 
 All the evening the French crew were at work getting 
 sail on a jury foremast that they had rigged up, and as 
 soon as night fell the frigate turned tail and began to run 
 before the wind for the French coast. 
 
 About midnight the word came aft that the Frenchman 
 was hove to, no doubt with the hope of getting the two 
 
324 GREAT DAYS 
 
 ships close enough to give them each a broadside ; but 
 Jack went about in the Wasp at once and signalled to the 
 Bee, and both began pumping in the heavy shots again, 
 and the Frenchman soon found that his best course was 
 to run for it. 
 
 With the first grey streak of dawn Jack began the cannon- 
 ading again, and now almost alternately first the Wasp and 
 then the Bee pummelled the Fiench frigate. By eight bells 
 that day she was a sorry sight. An hour later the tricolour 
 came slowly fluttering down from her peak. 
 
 " Out with the gig," Jack cried, " let's save our prize." 
 
 " Don't risk it, sir," cried Gosport. " Let Riding board 
 him and we'll hang off." 
 
 " Fm going aboard," said Jack ; " you and Riding will 
 keep us in sight." 
 
 He saw that the gale had nearly blown itself out. The 
 frigate was in a pitiable condition ; of a crew of over three 
 hundred men she had lost a hundred and twenty killed and 
 wounded. The big shots had done tremendous damage. 
 All the boats were knocked to pieces, ten of the forty 
 cannon dismounted, the lower deck a shambles. 
 
 The captain he found was an old seadog fifty years of 
 age, called Chauchard. Needless to say Jack treated him 
 with more than courtesy, showing, indeed, to him and to 
 the rest of the officers, every possible consideration. He 
 regretted only that he had not got a single doctor on board 
 either of his vessels. But the French ship had a good 
 surgeon and two assistants, and the wounded were soon 
 made as comfortable as possible. 
 
 By six o'clock in the evening the frigate was ready to 
 sail again, and the wind had fallen. Jack transferred fifty 
 
GREAT DAYS 325 
 
 seamen to the French ship and, by promising a hundred 
 of the French crew to give them their liberty if they would 
 give him their parole to work and not attempt to escape, 
 he got the frigate running free towards the English coast 
 with the two smaller vessels on her weather quarter. 
 
 Jack had hardly got on board the Wasp again when it 
 came to him that he had not slept for forty-eight hours, 
 and he went down to his cabin and never woke till the sun 
 was high. As he dressed himself he could not help looking 
 through the porthole to see the frigate the outward and 
 visible sign of his triumph. 
 
 As soon as he had breakfasted he got himself put on 
 board and had a long talk with Captain Chauchard. He 
 found him an excellent sailor and a man with a good deal 
 of common sense. He talked freely, and Jack learned a 
 good deal from him. He declared that the Revolution 
 which had made the French army had destroyed the 
 French navy. 
 
 " How did it do that ? " asked Jack in amazement. 
 
 " Seamanship," said Chauchard, " is a thing that cannot 
 be learnt in a month or a year. It's about the most difficult 
 trade on earth. It takes an apprenticeship in childhood and 
 eight or ten years of practice. Well, we used to have that ; 
 the officers on board our vessels were nearly all nobles ; 
 that was why I was only a subordinate," he said, simply. 
 " In the Revolution all the officers were guillotined a8 
 aristocrats ; that would not have hurt us, perhaps, if the 
 authorities had picked out the best common sailors and 
 made them officers, but instead of that they sent middle- 
 class people on board, captains who had never been to 
 sea, lieutenants who didn't know the mizzen mast from 
 
326 GREAT DAYS 
 
 the jib boom. They had to make me a captain," he added, 
 " because I was the only officer on board who was not 
 seasick. No wonder your Nelson beats us. If Bonaparte 
 had been a seaman instead of an artillery officer the result 
 would have been different. Look at this Inflexible" he 
 said ; " my first lieutenant is the son of an advocate of 
 Bordeaux. When he gives orders he makes all the sailors 
 laugh." 
 
 " I am rather glad of it," said Jack courteously, " for if 
 they had all been as good as you I should probably never 
 have won." 
 
 " Oh no," said Chauchard, " you have taught us all a 
 lesson, and if I ever get back to France I shall try to make 
 the French authorities realise that a couple of Wasps are 
 more than a match for a forty-gun frigate." 
 
 How was it, Jack asked himself in wonder, how was it 
 that Bonaparte, with his quick vision, had never gone on 
 board his ships himself and found out the reason of the 
 indisputable superiority of the English ? The more he 
 thought of it the more he saw that Fox was right. There 
 was no depth of sympathy and therefore no width of vision 
 in Bonaparte ; he was a clear, decisive man, as Fox had 
 said, who could strike sharply, but hardly more. 
 
 An hour later Riding came on board. " Whoever would 
 have believed it ? " he cried, when he looked at the broad 
 deck of the frigate. " What will they say of us in England ? " 
 was his next remark. 
 
 A week later they were off Hurstpoint without having 
 sighted a ship. 
 
 As soon as they had the first glimpse of land Jack ordered 
 the other two vessels to lay to and ran into Hurstpoint to 
 
GREAT DAYS 327 
 
 bring out the little Dolphin. He dropped Weetman in a 
 boat for that purpose, and gave him a letter besides for 
 his father, telling him to come to Portsmouth to meet 
 them. 
 
 Next day they were in the Solent, but as soon as they 
 came under the lee of the Isle of Wight Jack stopped the 
 vessel and put a hundred of the French sailors, to whom 
 he had promised liberty, on board the little Dolphin, and 
 told Knight, her skipper, to drop them in Boulogne. Every 
 one of the Frenchmen, Jack thought, had earned his free- 
 dom. But he was soon to discover that the English authori- 
 ties did not agree with him. 
 
 The arrival of the ships in Portsmouth caused a certain 
 stir. About four o'clock Jack went on shore to report 
 himself. To his astonishment he was told that the Port- 
 admiral could not see him, but would see him next morning 
 if he would come at about eight. Jack had a very good 
 mind to take his prize up the Thames and not call upon 
 the admiral at all. It would probably have been better 
 for his future prospects in the navy if he had followed this 
 first impulse. 
 
 When he called next morning he found himself treated 
 rather like an upstart than a victor. The admiral took it 
 for granted that the victory was a mere piece of luck. He 
 listened half contemptuously to Jack's answers to his ques- 
 tions, and then put the whole success down to the fact 
 that the foremast of the French frigate had been shot 
 away. 
 
 " The lucky shot," he kept repeating, " the lucky shot 
 the hazard of war," till Jack wondered how anything so 
 brainless could ever have come to command. He never 
 
328 GREAT DAYS 
 
 even asked about the size of Jack's cannon, and when Jack 
 told him his guns were heavier than the frigate's he pursed 
 out his lips as if that mattered nothing, or as if Jack were 
 bragging. In fact, Jack had a good lesson in what pro- 
 fessional pride could do to obscure common sense. 
 
 With unfeigned delight the admiral pounced upon Jack's 
 admission that he had given a hundred French sailors their 
 liberty. 
 
 " What ! " he cried. " No king's officer would take upon 
 himself such an unwarrantable liberty. I'll have to report 
 it to the Admiralty. Never heard of such a thing in my 
 life. You'll be lucky if you get off without seeing the inside 
 of a prison. That's what comes of giving commissions to 
 merchant seamen." 
 
 Jack stared at him, striving to keep calm. " How was I 
 to bring nearly three hundred men back as prisoners when 
 I could not put even a hundred to guard them ? " 
 
 " Disarm 'em and clap 'em under hatches," the admiral 
 shouted. 
 
 " But who would have navigated the frigate ? " asked 
 Jack. " It was still blowing hard." 
 
 " That's your business," said the admiral. " You might 
 have scuttled her if you could not bring her into port." 
 
 " I am allowed then to drown my prisoners," said Jack, 
 " but not to set them free ? " 
 
 " That's enough," said the admiral. " You don't know 
 your duty, sir. How you ever got a commission I'll be 
 hanged if I can imagine." 
 
 But fortunately the Port admiral only represented the 
 ordinary professional opinion. The captain of one of the 
 king's ships in the harbour came on board the Wasp in the 
 
GREAT DAYS 329 
 
 afternoon and congratulated Jack in the handsomest manner, 
 declared he had never believed such a victory possible, 
 asked him to dinner, and when Jack told him what the Port 
 admiral had said he burst out laughing, and told him not 
 to mind, that the old fellow was a better judge of wine 
 and rum than seamanship. 
 
 " He is the nephew," he said, " of a former Lord of the 
 Admiralty, and knows a good deal about good living and 
 very little about the sea." 
 
 Jack soon received further proof that his triumph was 
 not to pass unappreciated. Next day he received a letter 
 from Fox enclosing a captain's commission. 
 
 " The Admiralty send you this ; it's the least they could 
 do ; you have deserved well of your country. I am delited. 
 
 " C. J. Fox." 
 
 Jack noticed that the great man had spelt " delited." 
 As soon as he had time to think he racked his brain to 
 
 understand why his father had not come to Portsmouth to 
 
 meet him. 
 The next day he got the admiral's permission to return 
 
 to Hurstpoint in the Wasp. 
 
330 GREAT DAYS 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 HE ran into Hurstpoint harbour about nine o'clock 
 the next night. In spite of the natural pride in 
 his own achievement, for some reason or other 
 Jack felt terribly depressed. Why had not his father met 
 him aft Portsmouth ? He knew that the old man would 
 delight in selling the frigate. Before they even reached 
 the harbour the mystery was solved. Weetman came off 
 in the Mary's boat and told him that his father was very 
 ill, not expected to live. 
 
 Jack left his vessel to Gosport, threw himself into the 
 gig, and hurried to the Robin Hood. He met Nancy in 
 the very door, who told him between her sobs that his 
 father was unconscious, very weak, and Emily was in the 
 parlour. He went in to see his sister at once. She chilled 
 him to the heart by assuming that the end was at hand. 
 
 " Pm glad you're in time," she said. 
 
 Jack kissed her and went upstairs at once. Although 
 he entered quietly the old man heard, and one might have 
 thought he had been waiting for his son, for a faint smile 
 flickered over his tanned face and he opened his eyes and 
 held out his hand as Jack hurried to the bedside, 
 
 " How are you, dad ; how do you feel ? " 
 
 " I don't feel much," said the old man in a slow, faint 
 voice, " except that I'm tired. What have you done, lad ? 
 
GREAT DAYS 331 
 
 Did they tell me you'd taken a frigate a forty-gun 
 ship ? " 
 
 Jack nodded. 
 
 " Well done ! " cried the old man. 
 
 " They've made me a captain in the navy," said Jack. 
 
 " H'm," grumbled the old man, " Bonaparte would have 
 made you an admiral. But you've done well, very well, 
 and now you'll have The Court. I wish I could live to 
 see you there. . . . But I've had a good time of it, 
 Jack, and now I'm going. I want to sleep," he said, " sleep 
 all the time. . . . 
 
 " Love's all right for youth, but it plays an old man out. 
 Nancy's a good piece ; she's been very kind to me, Jack, 
 and I know you'll be kind to her. ..." 
 
 For a while he lay still with closed eyes till Jack, looking 
 down on him and seeing him so grey and his nose so thin 
 and waxen-white, feared that he had passed. But as he 
 leaned to listen if he breathed, the old man woke again. 
 
 " I'm dying," he whispered. " I feel it, but I wouldn't 
 have that boy Carrol to pray at me. He's a squit, a jellyfish, 
 pretty to look at but no backbone. I offended your sister 
 by telling her I didn't want him. . . . 
 
 " I've come to the end," he went on again, after a pause 
 to get strength. " I don't fear anything and I don't hope 
 much. This life is all we get and I have had a very good 
 time on the whole. I wouldn't mind having it all over 
 again, you know," he added with a flash of the old spirit, 
 " but the chain's running out. . . ." Each sentence 
 seemed to exhaust him more. 
 
 " Wiggins's got the nest-egg, Jack," he whispered, " for 
 your little girl," then he chuckled. " Crosby " but he 
 
332 GREAT DAYS 
 
 could hardly continue : " Crosby'll have a warm berth. 
 . . . >J He winked maliciously. 
 
 Jack's breath was catching in his throat. 
 
 A little while later his eyes opened again widely and 
 Jack saw distress in the face, dread in the staring regard. 
 
 " I'm going," the old man gasped, and as Jack slipped 
 his hand under his shoulders and lifted him up on the 
 pillow : " Damn it," he groaned as if in a spasm of pain, 
 and his head fell back with the mouth open. 
 
 In a passion of tenderness Jack closed the eyes and mouth 
 and kissed the sharp features. 
 
 Later Nancy came into the room, sobbing heavily, and 
 then Emily also, and they began putting the place to 
 rights. 
 
 Jack made his way out into the night with an awful 
 sense of loneliness and solitude upon him. At first in his 
 distress he thought of going to see Carrol, but he could 
 not, he simply could not face Carrol's perfect, complacent 
 trust. He could have done with Riding, perhaps, but he 
 preferred to be alone. . . . 
 
 The next days passed in vague, unreal happenings ; then 
 the funeral, and he saw his father buried by his mother 
 in the little churchyard on the southern slope that caught 
 the sun. 
 
 They all met together in the parlour and heard the 
 lawyer read the will. As soon as it was over Nancy came 
 to Jack and assured him that though the inn had been 
 left to her he would always be welcome there as master, 
 and if he would keep his old room she would be very glad. 
 
 Jack looked at her ; perhaps some of it was true. 
 
 An hour later he took his sister back to The Grange. 
 
GREAT DAYS 333 
 
 But when Carrol tried to keep him to dinner and engage 
 him in talk Jack shrank from him. Every touch hurt ; 
 he was better alone. 
 
 He found it almost impossible to live. His father gone, 
 life was empty to him. The old man had been another 
 self, his praise a reward, his energy, courage, and resource 
 a perpetual encouragement ; his caution, his suspiciousness, 
 his religious bargainings, his lewdness even everything in 
 him was delightful to Jack. His father had been a great 
 man, he felt ; if his field in life had been higher he would 
 have done great things. The indomitable energy in him, 
 the splendid courage, were irresistible. Jack suffered beyond 
 words. He had loved his father ; the bereavement was 
 dreadful. . . . 
 
 He lived on board the brigantine, hid himself away from 
 those who had any right to come near him ; he avoided 
 any intrusion on his lonely misery. It seemed as if some- 
 thing in him were broken, as if it were impossible for him 
 to take up again the burden of life. He did not even care 
 to shave or to attend to his dress. He wandered about 
 the deck like a ghost, and would sit for hours in the cabin 
 lost in blank apathy. 
 
 One day Riding came into the cabin to see him, and 
 took in the situation at a glance. 
 
 " I've come to see you," he said briskly, " and to annoy 
 you, I'm afraid. The Admiralty has censured you for 
 setting free the French sailors." 
 
 Jack looked at him ; he did not even know what he was 
 talking about, much less care for any censure. 
 
 " And they have made an offer of thirty thousand pounds 
 for the French frigate." 
 
334 GREAT DAYS 
 
 To get rid of him Jack said : " All right, let them have 
 it." What did he care ? 
 
 " I refused it," Riding went or, " in your name ; said 
 you would fit her out again for sea and read your new 
 commission on board." 
 
 Jack shook his head. Ir vain Riding pleaded with him. 
 He would not hear of it, but grew impatient, and shut 
 himself up again in his cabin. 
 
 Tha< night Riding went up to The Grange and told 
 Emily what he had seen. 
 
 " If he isn't roused in some way or other," he said, 
 " he'll get worse and worse. Gosport tells me he doesn't 
 eat. He's incredibly haggard and thin. You see," he 
 went on, " he's very affectionate. He doesn't seem to want 
 to live. What can be done ? " 
 
 His earnestness, his conviction, alarmed Emily, and she 
 called her husband in and the three discussed it. 
 
 Suddenly it came to Emily that the one person who 
 could help them was Margaret Barren. She wrote to her 
 at length that same evening and told her of Jack's state. 
 
 As soon as she got the letter Margaret came down to 
 The Court and saw En>ily, who proposed that Riding should 
 inveigle Jack on shore by telling him that his signature 
 was absolutely needed. But Margaret would not hear of 
 the trick ; she would go on board at once and see Jack. 
 
 As she entered the cabin Jack looked at her and then 
 looked down again. 
 
 After a pause she came near him. " Won't you speak 
 to me ? " she asked. 
 
 * What's the good ? " he said. " I'm finished." 
 
 But as he spoke thoughts began to stir in him again 
 
GREAT DAYS 335 
 
 and he awoke to misery. In the same way a man whose 
 hand has been frostbitten feels nothing in it till he attempts 
 to move it or bring it to life again, and then as the blood 
 begins to stir in the veins the pain of renewed life becomes 
 intolerable. So all the pain of living, all the bitterness of 
 death and love irreparable, swept over Jack and found 
 words. 
 
 " What's the good of it all ? " he repeated. " We 
 struggle and struggle and accomplish nothing. It's like 
 swimming against a current : we think we're forging ahead 
 and making progress ; in reality our utmost efforts don't 
 advance us an inch. The fools get honour and place, the 
 selfish win power they can only misuse. Our loves and 
 affections all recoil on us in loss and misery ; it were better 
 not to live. . . . I've lost heart and hope, and can 
 only suffer." 
 
 Margaret looked at him. " You only think of yourself 
 then," she began, but broke off quickly. A moment later, 
 " I always thought you were strong." 
 
 Hot blood came into Jack's cheeks. The remedy was 
 bitter, but it worked ; he felt that his self-abandonment 
 was criminally weak. He was not really defeated and 
 desperate, but heart-sick and lonely. He got up slowly 
 and went over to her. 
 
 " It was good of you to come," he said, and took her 
 hands, and at the touch of them the band about his heart 
 was loosened and tears burned in his eyes. 
 
 " It's good to see you," he repeated, and as he kissed her 
 hands he became conscious that he had not shaved for 
 weeks, and was in rough sea- togs. But Margaret seemed 
 to take no notice of his appearance. 
 
336 GREAT DAYS 
 
 " Why have you hidden yourself away ? " she cried. 
 " All London's talking of you and your capture of the 
 frigate; don't you know that ? " 
 
 He found little to say. He was embarrassed, ill at ease, 
 could not find himself at once, but the cloud had lifted. 
 He was a man again. Margaret went over to him, her 
 love and comprehension of his misery giving her courage, 
 and in a few minutes she had arranged to meet him the 
 next day; He then took her on deck and asked Riding to 
 see her to The Grange. 
 
 Within an hour he had shaved himself, changed his 
 clothes and had Gosport and Riding to dinner in the cabin 
 of the brigantine. He heard all Riding's news, approved 
 of everything even of the plan to fit out the frigate for 
 a cruise under the Union Jack. 
 
 Resolutely now he turned away from the melancholy 
 brooding ; hope had come back to him, hope and desire. 
 He slept well, dressed carefully, and went up in a hurry 
 to The Grange. 
 
 The autumn day had a brisk exhilaration in it. Jack 
 drew in long breaths of the cold, sweet air ; the tang of 
 salt sea-breeze did him good, lifted his spirits. 
 
 When Margaret came in his whole being thrilled to 
 the meeting. He took in now with delight that she was 
 more beautiful than ever, his deep-breasted love. 
 
 Immediately after dinner he insisted on taking her home 
 to The Court. 
 
 Their road led past the spot where he had stopped her 
 that wet night long ago. 
 
 " Can you forgive me ? " he said, pausing at the same 
 spot, 
 
GREAT DAYS 337 
 
 She looked at him with inscrutable eyes, smiling. " I 
 kissed you again and again against your will," he said ; 
 " I was half mad. Have you forgiven me ? " 
 
 She looked at him. " Are you sure ? " she asked. 
 
 He did not catch her meaning. " What ? " he said. 
 
 " You silly man," she said, and when his look questioned 
 her she added : " I have nothing to forgive, Jack." 
 
 Slowly he took her in his arms and kissed her on the 
 lips, kissed her on the eyes and hair, putting her arms 
 round his neck, taking possession of her wholly. . . . 
 
 A little later she drew herself from his embrace all flushed. 
 
 " You love me ? " he asked. 
 
 " Surely," she replied, her eyes meeting his. 
 
 They walked on a little way in silence, then he began 
 regretfully : 
 
 " What a pity it is that with us men the sense so often 
 runs away with the spirit, and we mistake the heat of blood 
 for love. Women like you are so much truer than we are," 
 he added ; " you have nothing to regret." 
 
 " Don't be too sure," she said. " I wonder, if I confessed 
 to you, what you would think ? " 
 
 " Come," he said, drawing her to him with a divine, 
 tender joy at the thought of having something to forgive. 
 " What have you to confess, sweetheart ? " 
 
 " When you took me and kissed me that night," she 
 said, " so roughly, I was glad of it ; you made me feel 
 against my will: ... I thought you must have guessed 
 my weakness and joy. I was a little frightened of myself 
 and angry with myself, and underneath all glad. . . . 
 
 " When you said to me that I'd forgive you before 
 you'd forgive yourself I could have laughed aloud. It 
 
 z 
 
338 GREAT DAYS 
 
 seemed so funny to hear you talk of forgiveness as if I 
 had anything to forgive. But it showed you hadn't noticed 
 my joy, and I was proud of myself again. 
 
 " I went quickly away, because I had to, because you won 
 my very heart by kneeling to me, made me feel tender 
 to you. . : : If I had stayed a moment longer Pd have 
 told you I cared for nothing in the world but you, 
 nothing, nothing ; not for father or mother or position 
 or anything in the wide world, but only you, just you," 
 and she kissed him with hot lips. 
 
 " You make me ashamed, dear," he said quietly. " To 
 win you is more than I dared hope." 
 
 She put her arms round him and kissed him again pas- 
 sionately. " I am all yours," she said, " all love. I 
 want to give you everything. . . ." 
 
 THE END 
 
22 1948 
 
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