rew during the night like mushrooms. While Brock chafed
under restraint, he knew how to improve the opportunity.

Fishing, shooting sea-fowl, and exploring the interior on horseback,
were Brock's chief pastimes. He became a fearless horseman. Mount
Hillaby rose 1,200 feet above the Caribbean Sea. The very crest of its
almost impossible pinnacle Brock is said to have ascended on horseback.
Between Bridgetown, in Barbadoes, and Kingston, Jamaica, he divided his
time, and though monotonous, his life in the Windward Islands was not
wholly void of adventure.

Shortly after joining his regiment at Bridgetown our hero had his first
affair of honour, an opportunity to display his courage under most
trying conditions. A certain captain in the 49th was a confirmed
duellist, with a reputation of being a dead shot at short range. Resting
upon his evil record, this braggart had succeeded in terrorizing the
garrison, and it was soon Brock's turn to be selected for insult. But
Isaac could not be bullied or intimidated. He promptly challenged and
was as promptly accepted.

The fateful morning arrived. In a lonely spot, palm-sheltered, and
within sight of the sea breaking upon the coral reefs, principals and
seconds met. There was no question in Brock's mind as to his duty--the
duello at that time was the recognized court of appeal. If its purpose
as originally designed had at times been infamously abused, it was still
the one and only arbiter through which insults had to be purged and from
which, for the "officer and gentleman," there was no escape.

Now Isaac, who was several inches taller and much bulkier than the
scoundrel who had insulted him, declined to become a shining mark at the
regulation twelve paces. He demanded from his fire-eating antagonist
that the duel proceed on equal terms. Whipping out his kerchief, cool as
a cucumber, his blue eyes steady and resolute, he insisted that _they
both fire across it_. The fairness of the proposal staggered the bully.
The chances were not sufficiently one-sided. If this plan was acted upon
he might himself be killed. He refused to comply. The code of honour and
garrison approval sustained Brock in his contention, and the refusal of
the professional killer to fight under even chances was registered in
the mess-room as the act of a coward, and he left the regiment by
compulsion.

In Jamaica the continued strain of inactivity under which our hero
fretted told upon him, and he was struc