"He must have been from six to nine degrees above the crest of the
parapet," said my uncle, thoughtfully,--"which, I take it, is the best
elevation, both for shot and shells in enfilading a work."

"What say you then, Captain,--up with our knapsacks, and on with the
march?"

"Right about--face!" cried my uncle, as erect as a column.

"No looking back, if we can help it."

"Full in the front of the enemy. 'Up, Guards, and at 'em!'"

"'England expects every man to do his duty!'"

"Cypress or laurel!" cried my uncle, waving the book over his head.

CHAPTER VII.

I went out, and to see Francis Vivian; for on leaving Mr. Trevanion I
was not without anxiety for my new friend's future provision. But Vivian
was from home, and I strolled from his lodgings into the suburbs on the
other side of the river, and began to meditate seriously on the best
course now to pursue. In quitting my present occupations I resigned
prospects far more brilliant and fortunes far more rapid than I could
ever hope to realize in any other entrance into life. But I felt the
necessity, if I desired to keep steadfast to that more healthful frame
of mind I had obtained, of some manly and continuous labor, some earnest
employment. My thoughts flew back to the university; and the quiet
of its cloisters--which, until I had been blinded by the glare of the
London world, and grief had somewhat dulled the edge of my quick desires
and hopes, had seemed to me cheerless and unfaltering--took an inviting
aspect. It presented what I needed most,--a new scene, a new arena, a
partial return into boyhood; repose for passions prematurely raised;
activity for the reasoning powers in fresh directions. I had not lost my
time in London: I had kept up, if not studies purely classical, at least
the habits of application; I had sharpened my general comprehension and
augmented my resources. Accordingly, when I returned home, I resolved to
speak to my father. But I found he had forestalled me; and on entering,
my mother drew me upstairs into, her room, with a smile kindled by my
smile, and told me that she and her Austin had been thinking that it
was best that I should leave London as soon as possible; that my father
found he could now dispense with the library of the Museum for some
months; that the time for which they had taken their lodgings would be
up in a few days: that the summer was far advanced, town odious, the
country beautiful,--in a word, we were to go