HOW WE BEGAN TO SPREAD OUR WINGS Ten years make little change in the aspect of Sercq, nor ten times ten for that matter, though the learned men tell us that the sea and wind and weather take daily toll of the little land and are slowly and surely wearing it away.

It has not changed much in my time, however, and I have no doubt it will still stand firm for those who are to follow.
But ten years in the life of a boy and girl--ten years, which about double in number those that have gone, and increase experiences tenfold--these indeed bring mighty changes.
In those ten years I grew from boy to man, and Carette Le Marchant grew into a gracious and beautiful woman, and--we grew a little apart.
That was inevitable, I suppose, and in the natural course of things, for even two saplings planted side by side will, as they grow into trees, be wider apart at the top than they are down below.

And perhaps it is right, for if they grew too close together both would suffer.

Growth needs space for full expansion if it is not to be lop-sided.

And boy and girl days cannot last for ever.
Those ten years taught me much--almost all that I ever learned, until the bitterer experiences of life brought it all to the test, and sifted out the chaff, and left me knowledge of the grain.
And once again I would say that to my mother, Rachel Carre, and to my grandfather and Krok, and to William Shakespeare and John Bunyan and to my grandfather's great Bible, I owe in the first place all that I know.