nmouth had one by one come up on deck and grouped themselves around
the two noblemen--all wishing in their turn to press the hand which had
touched that of the prince.

"Ah! gentlemen, I suspect that his grace puts off the honor of seeing
you. He fears the emotion inseparable from such a moment."

"And we, then!" cried Dudley. "It is now about forty days since we left
Rochelle, is it not? Well, may I die if I have slept more than three or
four hours any night, and then the sleep, at once agitated and pleasant,
that one sleeps on the eve of a duel--when one is sure of killing one's
man. At least, that is the effect of this impatience on me. And you,
Percy?" said the robust gladiator to Mortimer.

"On me, Dick?" responded the latter; "it has a contrary effect on me;
every moment I wake with a start. It seems to me that I should sleep
thus the eve of the day that I was going to be shot."

"As for me," said another gentleman, "I know the duke only from his
portrait."

"I only from his renown."

"I, as soon as I knew that it concerned marching against the Orange
faction--I quitted all, friends, wife, child."

"So did we----"

"Ah, sir, it is also for James of Monmouth," said another, "that is a
name which is like the sound of a trumpet."

"It suffices to pronounce this name in Old England," said another, "to
drive all these Holland rats into their marshes."

"Beginning with this William----"

"On my honor, gentlemen," said De Chemerant, "you make me almost proud
of having succeeded so well in an enterprise which, I dare to say, is a
very delicate one. I do not wish to attribute to my reasoning, to my
influence, the resolution of the prince--but believe, at least,
gentlemen, that I have known how to make good use with him of the
enthusiasm with which his memory has inspired you."

"And so, our friend, we will never forget what you have done! You have
brought him here to us--our duke!" cried Mortimer cordially.

"For that alone we owe you eternal gratitude," added Dudley.

"To see him! to see him," cried Mortimer in a new access of feeling, "to
see him again whom we believed to be dead--to see him indeed face to
face--to again find before our eyes this proud and noble figure--to see
it again in the midst of the fire--the--the--ah, well--yes, I weep--I
weep," cried the brave Mortimer, no longer restraining his emotion;
"yes, I weep like a child, and a thousand thunderbolts crush those who
do not comprehend that