It was a real delight to everybody to hear how the Blackett pit was now prospering.  Under Fairburn’s management the colliery had made a clear profit of five thousand odd pounds in the course of a single year’s working.  It was astounding.  “Mary and you will be rich folks again, my dears,” the good Mrs. Fairburn remarked, in her own homely but kindly way, to the brother and sister, and Matthew felt a lump in his throat.

The wrench to George, when the time came for him and Matthew to return to the Continent, seemed somehow vastly greater than it had been on the two former occasions.  However, once across the sea, he cast all else than his profession to the winds.  He did not know it, of course, but the campaign that was coming was to prove to the Allies the most costly they had yet experienced.  The negotiations for a peace had ended in nothing, and here was Marshal Villars, the only great French leader as yet unbeaten by Marlborough, ready with a force of no fewer than 110,000 men.  True, many of his soldiers were raw recruits while those of his opponent were mostly seasoned veterans.  True also, France was so crippled for money and munitions of war that it was rarely possible to give every man of the army a full breakfast.  Yet Villars was a general that would have to be reckoned with, and this Marlborough well knew when he used every effort to swell the numbers of his troops in the Netherlands.

Marlborough’s aim was that of the previous year, to force his way into France and to its capital.  In order that such a step might be made possible, it was necessary that no stronghold should be left behind.  Accordingly the Allies set about reducing the three that still remained,—­Mons, Valenciennes, and Tournai, not forgetting that they had also Villars to deal with.  A beginning was made with Tournai, an enormously strong place, and reckoned to be of the best of all Vauban’s works.

Marlborough employed stratagem, and it succeeded as usual.  He made a pretence of advancing, and Villars, to strengthen his force, withdrew a number of troops from Tournai.  Then the Duke, with a swift night movement, invested the town.  The garrison made a stout defence, and our two captains had their work cut out for them.  Never in all his career had George Fairburn been so careless of his own safety, his brother officers declared.  It was not that he despised danger, or was ignorant of its existence; he simply did not think of it, his mind being occupied solely with the problem of reducing this impregnable fortress.

“Be not rash, gentlemen,” Colonel Rhodes thought it advisable to say to the younger men among his officers.  “There are mines in all directions, if rumour is to be believed.  Do not expose yourselves to needless risk.  We are already losing heavily, and men are not to be had for the whistling.”  And privately the kindly old fellow—­the youngsters called him old, though he was still short of fifty—­added an extra word of caution