Our separation took place when I left the American army to fight
under the command of the French general. Arthur was an American; and,
moreover, he was only waiting for the end of the war to retire from the
service, and settle in Boston with Dr. Cooper, who loved him as his son,
and who had undertaken to get him appointed principal librarian to the
library of the Philadelphia Society. This was all the reward Arthur
desired for his labours.

The events which filled my last years in America belong to history.
It was with a truly personal delight that I hailed the peace which
proclaimed the United States a free nation. I had begun to chafe at my
long absence from France; my passion had been growing ever greater, and
left no room for the intoxication of military glory. Before my departure
I went to take leave of Arthur. Then I sailed with the worthy Marcasse,
divided between sorrow at parting from my only friend, and joy at the
prospect of once more seeing my only love. The squadron to which my ship
belonged experienced many vicissitudes during the passage, and several
times I gave up all hope of ever kneeling before Edmee under the great
oaks of Sainte-Severe. At last, after a final storm off the coast of
France, I set foot on the shores of Brittany, and fell into the arms
of my poor sergeant, who had borne our common misfortunes, if not with
greater physical courage, at least with a calmer spirit, and we mingled
our tears.




XVI

We set out from Brest without sending any letter to announce our coming.