Another second would easily be found somewhere; for,
as Nevil observed, you have only to set these affairs
going, and British blood rises: we are not the
people you see on the surface. Wilmore’s
father was a parson, for instance. What did
he do? He could not help himself: he supplied
the army and navy with recruits! One son was
in a marching regiment, the other was Jack, and three
girls had vowed never to quit the rectory save as brides
of officers. Nevil thought that seemed encouraging;
we were evidently not a nation of shopkeepers at heart;
and he quoted sayings of Mr. Stukely Culbrett’s,
in which neither his ear nor Wilmore’s detected
the under-ring Stukely was famous for: as that
England had saddled herself with India for the express
purpose of better obeying the Commandments in Europe;
and that it would be a lamentable thing for the Continent
and our doctrines if ever beef should fail the Briton,
and such like. ’Depend upon it we’re
a fighting nation naturally, Jack,’ said Nevil.
’How can we submit! . . . however, I shall
not be impatient. I dislike duelling, and hate
war, but I will have the country respected.’
They planned a defence of the country, drawing their
strategy from magazine articles by military pens,
reverberations of the extinct voices of the daily
and weekly journals, customary after a panic, and making
bloody stands on spots of extreme pastoral beauty,
which they visited by coach and rail, looking back
on unfortified London with particular melancholy.
Rosamund’s word may be trusted that she dropped
the letter into a London post-office in pursuance
of her promise to Nevil. The singular fact was
that no answer to it ever arrived. Nevil, without
a doubt of her honesty, proposed an expedition to
Paris; he was ordered to join his ship, and he lay
moored across the water in the port of Bevisham, panting
for notice to be taken of him. The slight of
the total disregard of his letter now affected him
personally; it took him some time to get over this
indignity put upon him, especially because of his being
under the impression that the country suffered, not
he at all. The letter had served its object:
ever since the transmission of it the menaces and
insults had ceased.
But they might be renewed, and he desired to stop
them altogether. His last feeling was one of
genuine regret that Frenchmen should have behaved
unworthily of the high estimation he held them in.
With which he dismissed the affair.
He was rallied about it when he next sat at his uncle’s
table, and had to pardon Rosamund for telling.
Nevil replied modestly: ’I dare say you
think me half a fool, sir. All I know is, I waited
for my betters to speak first. I have no dislike
of Frenchmen.’