Nor was he possessed of sufficient strength of character to choose a
distinct path and steadily pursue it. Determined enough, as we have
seen, under excitement he could fight with his back to the wall. Nor was
he one to shrink from any duty that was plainly pointed out to him. He
could not prepare himself _de longue main_ for a definite and consistent
conduct; still less had he the power--often wielded by natures otherwise
inferior--of striking a balance between opposing motives. His duty as a
militia-officer was at complete variance with his desires as a friend of
Lempriere's. He could not choose between them. He might have thrown up
his commission and devoted himself to watching over his friends at
King's Cliff. He might have cast his feelings to the winds and accepted
the post of orderly officer to the Lieutenant-Governor which was offered
him by Carteret. He chose neither line but adopted what he called "a
middle-course," in other words left himself to be drifted on the current
of events. He saw that the position of the cavaliers was hopeless if
they had to maintain a long and unaided contest against the conquerors
of Ireland and Scotland. He had no great trust in the willingness of the
French, none whatever in their good faith. His ardent desire to prevent
effusion of Jersey blood was a preoccupation that hid almost all other
considerations from his mind. And he had trust in the discipline and
morale of the Parliamentary troops, and in the presence among them of
Prynne and Lempriere, which saved him from much anxiety as to the
welfare of the ladies at King's Cliff.

As he sate, that night, by the camp-fire of a picquet of his company he
heard two militiamen conversing, and recognised Benoist and Le Gros as
the speakers.

"To what purpose are we here, _mon voisin_?" asked the former. "What
good would the sacrifice of ourselves do the King now, when perhaps he