sand
extravagances on thinking we should see him again to-day. We could not
believe it, and even yet I doubt it. Ah! what a day! what a day! To see
again in flesh and blood a friend, a companion in arms whom we had
believed dead, whom we had wept for for five years! Ah! you do not know
how he was cherished and regretted, our James! How we recalled his
bravery, his courage, his gayety! What happiness to say, not _it was_,
but _it is_ the heart of a king, a true heart of a king, that of our
duke."

"It must be that this is true, my lord, since with the exception of
yourself, of Lord Dudley, and this poor Lord Rothsay who, ill as he is
from his old wounds, has chosen to accompany you, the other gentlemen
who came to offer their arms, their lives and their fortunes to our
duke, knew him only by reputation."

"And I should like well to see if, on his renown alone, and on our
guarantee, they would not love him as much as we love him. This recalls
to me that once I fought my friend Dick Dudley because he vowed he loved
me a little more than our James!"

"The fact is, my lord," said De Chemerant, "that few princes are capable
of inspiring such enthusiasm simply by their renown."

"Few princes, sir!" cried Lord Mortimer in a formidable voice, "few
princes! Say, then, no other prince--ask Dudley!"

Lord Dudley appeared at this moment on the deck. The hair and mustache
of this nobleman were black and beginning to turn gray; in stature,
strength, and stoutness there was a great conformity between him and
Mortimer; true types (physically speaking) of what are called
gentlemen-farmers.

"What's the matter, Percy?" said Lord Dudley familiarly to his friend.

"Is it not true, Dick, that no prince can be compared with our James?"

"Excepting our worthy friends and allies on this vessel, any dog who
dares maintain that James is not the best of men I will beat him till
the blood comes, and cut him in quarters," said this robust personage,
striking with one of his fists the gunwale of the ship. Then, addressing
De Chemerant: "But now you know him as well as we--you, the chosen you,
the happy man who saw him first! Your hand, De Chemerant, your brave and
loyal hand--more brave and more loyal, if it is possible, since it has
touched that of our duke!"

Dudley violently shook the right hand of De Chemerant, while Mortimer
shook no less violently the left hand.

There is nothing more contagious than enthusiasm. The partisans of
Mo