St. Ives: Being the Adventures of a French Prisoner in England
essential point neglected; and I ran to the head of the stairs to find myself already too late. The lawyer was beyond my view; in the archway that led do
be solitary, I was suffered to sit here behind my piece of cannon unmolested. The cliff went down before me almost sheer, but mantled with a thicket of climbing trees; from farther down, an outwork raised its turret; and across
other-or entered and left the shops, which are in that quarter, and, for a town of the Britannic provinces, particularly fine. My mind being busy upon other things, the course of my eye was the more random; and it chanced that I followed, for some time, the advance of a young gentleman with a red head and a white great-coat, for whom I cared nothing at the moment
tle impression I had made, even supposing I had made any, how soon it would die out! how soon I should sink to be a phantom memory, with which (in after days) she might amuse a husband and children! No, the impression must be clenched, the wax impressed with the seal, ere I left Edinburgh. And at this the two interests that were now contending in my bosom came together and became one. I wished to see Flora again; and I wanted some one to further me in my flight and to get me new clothes. The conclusion was apparent. Except for persons in the garrison itself, with whom it was a point of honour and military duty to retain me captive, I knew, in the whole country of Scotland, these two alone. If it were to be done at all,
ow and blushes; and he advanced to me with an air of one stubbornly performing a duty, like a raw soldier under fire. I laid down my carving; greeted him with a good deal of formality, such as I thought he would enjoy; and finding him to remain silent, branched off into narrati
ops in the Peninsula. A young gentleman of spirit may w
o be dangling here at home and going through with this foolery of
' said I. 'I have fe
roops, are there, quite s
have a defect,-they are not to be trusted in a retr
l character,' he said-God forg
ot so ill advised as to give it utterance. Every one should be flattered, but boys and women without stint; and I put in the
think your sincerity is beautiful. I think you have a noble character. I admire you very
you again s
ora-Miss Gilchrist, I mean-come to-day. I wished to see more of you myself. I
played on one so gullible, part raging that I should have burned so much incense before the vanity of England; yet, in
that I declare, as I went to meet them, I might have afforded a subject for a painter. So much was high comedy, I must confess; but so soon as my eyes lighted full on her dark face and
ject for a confidence, but there is actually no one here, even of my comrades, that knows me by my name and title. By these I am called plain Champdivers, a name to which I have a right, but not
d the boy; 'I kne
vely. All through this interview she kept them on the ground, or only
ortress, and take my own name upon my lips, is painful to the proud. And yet I wished that you should know me. Long after this, we may yet hear
books, get me tobacco if I used it, and the like. This would have been all mighty welcome, befo
with what liberty I have, I have the opportunity to see a myriad roofs, and I dare to say, thirty leagues of sea and land. All this hostile! Under all these roofs my enemies dwell; wherever I see the smoke of a house rising, I must tell myself that some one sits before the chimney and reads with joy of our reverses. Pardon me, dear frie
tood a
regards Ronald and myself, a true one. Come, I belie
ce of our projected flight. Thence we had a view of some foreshortened suburbs at our feet, and beyond of a green, open, and irregular country rising towards the Pen
smoke out of the midst of them. That is Swanston Cottage, where my brother and I are living with my aunt. If it gives you pleasure to see it, I am glad. We, too, can see the cast
lieved the horrors of this place, I believe, I hope, I know, you would be glad. I will come here daily and look at that dear chimney an
es?' she said softly. 'But I thin
whom (to say the truth)
if possible, the memory of my last and somewhat too fervent speech, who should come past us but the ma
hat man?'
. 'I give him lessons in French,
'I do not say, rudely;
ed at, mademoiselle, suffer me
seemed anger. 'I tell you
y harm. I suppose he was just surprised to see u
oms, and after I had dutifully corrected his exerc
ur pardon
he. 'You understand me pe
something a
g back. 'That was the young lady whom Goguelat insulted and who
the first also, if it amuses you! You are become so very
her name?
. 'Do you think it li
t certain,
. 'Well, then, do you think it l
d he. 'But come,