And so it was that the French battle-ship sent a flag of truce to the
foot of Perch Rock, and a French officer, calling up, gave his captain's
word of honour that Ranulph should suffer nothing at the hands of a
court-martial, and that he should be treated as an English prisoner of
war, not as a French deserter.

There was no court-martial. After Ranulph, at Richambeau's command, had
told the tale of the ascent, the Frenchman said:

"No one but an Englishman could be fool enough to try such a thing, and
none but a fool could have had the luck to succeed. But even a fool can
get a woman to follow him, and so this flyaway followed you, and--"

Carterette made for Richambeau as though to scratch his eyes out, but
Ranulph held her back. "--And you are condemned, gunner," continued
Richambeau dryly, "to marry the said maid before sundown, or be carried
out to sea a prisoner of war." So saying, he laughed, and bade them
begone to the wedding.

Ranulph left Richambeau's ship bewildered and perturbed. For hours he
paced the shore, and at last his thoughts began to clear. The new life
he had led during the last few months had brought many revelations. He
had come to realise that there are several sorts of happiness, but that
all may be divided into two kinds: the happiness of doing good to
ourselves, and that of doing good to others. It opened out clearly to
him now as he thought of Carterette in the light of Richambeau's coarse
jest.

For years he had known in a sort of way that Carterette preferred him to