full and proper appreciation of his sister. He conceded, in brotherly
fashion, that she was a good little girl, and pretty, as girls went, and
possessed of a spirit of her own. And I, who had never had a sister, nor
indeed much to do with girls as a class, could only marvel at his dullness,
for to me Carette was the very rose and crown of life, and the simple
thought of her was a cordial to the soul.

I confided to him my plans for escape, and we laid our heads together as to
the outer stockade, but with all our thinking could not see the way across
it. That open space between, with its hedge of sentries, seemed an
impassable barrier.

We were also divided in opinion as to the better course to take if we
should get outside. Le Marchant favoured a rush straight to the east coast,
which was not more than thirty miles away. There he felt confident of
falling in with some of the free-trading community who would put us across
to Holland or even to Dunkerque, where they were in force and recognised.
I, on the other hand, stuck out for the longer journey right through
England to the south coast, whence it should be possible to get passage
direct to the Islands. Whichever way we went we were fully aware that our
troubles would only begin when the prison was left behind us, and that they
would increase with every step we took towards salt water. For so great had
been the waste of life in the war that the fleets were short-handed, and
anything in the shape of a man was pounced on by the pressgangs as soon as
seen, and flung aboard ship to be licked into shape to be shot at.

Le Marchant urged, with some reason, that on the longer tramp to the south
his presence with me would introduce a danger which would be absent if I
were alone. For his English was not fluent, and he spoke it with an accent
that would betray him at once. He even suggested our parting, if we ever