disarmed,
and paralysed by fear--abundance of food, clothes and arms; then, to
calm their fears, you removed your forces to a distance; and, when
astonishment was expressed, you said: 'Understand that a beaten enemy
has nothing to fear from us, and becomes a friend.'"

Chapter III.

THE LOVE STORY OF LAPEROUSE.

"My story is a romance"--"Mon histoire est un roman"--wrote Laperouse
in relating the events with which this chapter will deal. We have seen
him as a boy; we have watched him in war; we shall presently follow him
as a navigator. But it is just as necessary to read his charming love
story, if we are to understand his character. We should have no true
idea of him unless we knew how he bore himself amid perplexities that
might have led him to quote, as peculiarly appropriate to his own case,
the lines of Shakespeare:--

"Ay me! for ought that ever I could read,
Could ever hear by tale or history,
The course of true love never did run smooth,"

During the period of his service in the East Indies, Laperouse
frequently visited Ile-de-France (which is now a British possession,
called Mauritius). Then it was the principal naval station of the
French in the Indian Ocean. There he met a beautiful girl, the daughter
of one of the subordinate officials at Port Louis. Louise Eleonore
Broudou is said to have been "more than pretty"; she was distinguished
by grace of manner, charm of disposition, and fine, cultivated
character. The young officer saw her often, admired her much,
fell in love with her, and asked her to marry him. Mademoiselle loved
him too; and if they two only had had to be consulted, the happy union
of a well-matched pair might have followed soon.

It signified little to Laperouse, in love, that the lady had neither
rank nor fortune. But his family in France took quite a different view.
He wrote to a favourite sister, telling her about it, and she lost no
time in conveying the news to his parents. This was in 1775. Then the
trouble began.

Inasmuch as he was over thirty years of age at this time, it may be
thought that he might have been left to choose a wife for himself. But
a young officer of rank in France, under the Old Regime, was not so
free in these matters as he would be nowadays. Marriage was much more
than a personal affair. It was even more than a family affair. People
of rank did not so much marry as "make alliances"--or rather, submit
to having them made for them. It was qu