ran away to sea when he was fourteen.

If the Monks were celebrated for one estimable quality more than
another, it was temper: a cross-grained, imperious, obstinate temper.
"Run away to sea, has he?" cried old James when he heard the news; "very
well, at sea he shall stop." And at sea Godfrey did stop, not disliking
the life, and perhaps not finding any other open to him. He worked his
way up in the merchant service by degrees, until he became commander and
was called Captain Monk.

The years went on. Young James died, and the other two sons grew to be
middle-aged men. Old James, the father, found by signs and tokens that
his own time was approaching; and he was the next to go. Save for a
slender income bequeathed to Godfrey and to his daughter, the whole of
the property was left to Raymond, and to Godfrey after him if Raymond
had no son. The entail had been cut off in the past generation; for
which act the reasons do not concern us.

So Raymond, ailing greatly always, entered into possession of his
inheritance. He lived about a twelvemonth afterwards, and then died:
died unmarried. Therefore Godfrey came into all.

People were curious, the Squire says, as to what sort of man Godfrey
would turn out to be; for he had not troubled home much since he ran
away. He was a widower; that much was known; his wife having been a
native of Trinidad, in the West Indies.

A handsome man, with fair, curling hair (what was left of it); proud
blue eyes; well-formed features with a chronic flush upon them, for he
liked his glass, and took it; a commanding, imperious manner, and a