It was that call more than my uncle's letter which was taking me over the waters of the Channel.
For long my heart had been with my country in her struggle, and yet while my father lived I had never dared to say so; for to him, who had served under Conde and fought at Quiberon, it would have seemed the blackest treason.

But after his death there was no reason why I should not return to the land of my birth, and my desire was the stronger because Eugenie--the same Eugenie who has been thirty years my wife--was of the same way of thinking as myself.

Her parents were a branch of the de Choiseuls, and their prejudices were even stronger than those of my father.

Little did they think what was passing in the minds of their children.

Many a time when they were mourning a French victory in the parlour we were both capering with joy in the garden.