living at Herm and playing that desperate game of the double flags, while
somewhere one man lived who might turn up at any time and blow him to the
winds. And in pondering the matter, the fact that he had spared that man's
life became a greater puzzle to me than ever. Depressing, too, the thought
that if he did so stop on, it was because he considered the measures he had
taken for his own safety as effective as death itself, and he was
undoubtedly a shrewd and far-thinking man. That meant that my chances of
ever turning up again in Sercq were small indeed. And, on the other hand,
if a wholesome discretion drove him to the point of flitting, I had reason
enough to fear for Carette. He had vowed his son should have her, and both
father and son were men who would stick at nothing to gain their ends.

So my thoughts were black enough. I grew homesick, and heart-sick, and
there were many more in the same condition, and maybe, to themselves, with
equal cause.

Just four months we had been there, when one morning an old-fashioned
20-gun corvette came wallowing in, and an hour later we knew that she had
come to relieve us and we were to sail for home as soon as we were
provisioned. Work went with a will, for every man on board was sick of the
place in spite of the easy living and good faring, and we were at sea
within forty-eight hours. The word between-decks, too, was that Bonaparte
was about to conquer England, and we were hurrying back to take part in the
great invasion. The spirits and the talk ran to excess at times. I neither
took part in it nor resented it. My alien standing was almost forgotten
through the constant companionship of common tasks, and I saw no profit in
flaunting it, though my determination not to lift a hand against my country
was as strong as ever.

We had a prosperous voyage of thirty-five days, and were within two days'