who, because he spoke with a foreign accent, was
nicknamed Frenchy. Though a year or two my senior, he was not nearly so
strong, and was ill able to defend himself against much smaller boys.
He seemed a gentle, well-disposed boy, and when others, on my first
going to school, had attacked me, he had always stood aloof. Though I
had not had much conversation with him, I could not bear to see him
bullied.

One day, when two or three fellows had set upon him, I rushed up to his
assistance, and, without saying a word, knocked over his assailants one
after the other. He gratefully thanked me, and said he was afraid that,
as soon as my back was turned, the fellows would set on him again.

After this no one ventured to attack Henri de Villereine, and I was the
means of rendering his life at school far pleasanter, poor fellow! than
it had been before. He showed his gratitude by every means in his
power, and as I liked him for his many amiable qualities, we became fast
friends.

However, I have not space to give an account of my schoolboy days. I
applied myself diligently to my studies, and while I believe that I was
liked by the boys, I gained credit with the masters, and rose rapidly
towards the head of the school.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

DICK'S LESSON NOT LOST.

I had been three years at school, and was now almost a man in
appearance. Henri had gone to the island of Saint Lucia in the West
Indies, where his family resided. I was sorry to lose him, as there was
no boy in the school I liked so much. He had made me promise to come
and see him should I ever be able to do so. This seemed not impossible,
as I had not lost my affection for the sea, and Mr Dear had promised to
send me in one of his ships, should I wish to follow it as a profession.
I had, indeed, thought of no other.

He had made all the inquiries he could to discover my friends, but
hitherto unsuccessfully.

I had spent my holidays at his house, when he and his wife treated me as
kindly as if I had been their son.

The midsummer holidays were approaching. We had a large cricket-field
just opposite the house, where one evening we were playing. I had
become as good a cricketer as any of the big boys, though I never cared
very much for that or any other game which seemed to lead to no result.
I liked it, as it gave exercise to the body, just as I like chess
because it requires mental exertion. My side was in, and I had just
given up my bat, havin