medicine was working well.

"Listen to me, Calhoun," he said softly. "You've got to do something.
You're living an idle life. You're in debt. You've ruined your
independent fortune at the tables. There are but two courses open to
you. One is to join the British forces--to be a lieutenant, a captain,
a major, a colonel, or a general, in time; to shoot and cut and hang and
quarter, and rule with a heavy rod. That's one way."

"So you think I'm fit for nothing but the sword, eh?" asked Dyck with
irony. "You think I've got no brains for anything except the army."

Boyne laughed. "Have another drink, Calhoun." He poured out more wine.
"Oh, no, not the army alone; there's the navy--and there's the French
navy! It's the best navy in the world, the freest and the greatest, and
with Bonaparte going at us, England will have enough to do--too
much, I'm thinking. So there's a career in the French navy open. And
listen--before you and I are two months older, the French navy will
be in the harbours of Ireland, and the French army will land here." He
reached out and grasped Dyck's arm. "There's no liberty of freedom under
the Union Jack. What do you think of the tricolour? It's a great flag,
and under it the world is going to be ruled--England, Spain, Italy,
Holland, Prussia, Austria, and Russia--all of them. The time is ripe.
You've got your chance. Take it on, dear lad, take it on."

Dyck did not raise his head. He was leaning forward with both arms on
the table, supporting himself firmly; his head was bowed as though
with deep interest in what Boyne said. And, indeed, his interest was
great--so great that all his manhood, vigour, all his citizenship, were
vitally alive. Yet he did not lift his head.

"What's that you say about French ships in the harbours of Ireland?" he
said in a tone that showed interest. "Of course, I know there's been a
lot of talk of a French raid on Ireland, but I didn't know it was to be
so soon."

"Oh, it's near enough! It's all been arranged," replied Boyne. "There'll
be ships-war-ships, commanded by Hoche. They'll have orders to land
on the coast, to join the Irish patriots, to take control of the
operations, and then to march on--"

He was going to say "march on Dublin," but he stopped. He was playing a
daring game. If he had not been sure of his man, he would not have been
so frank and fearless.

He did not, however, mislead Dyck greatly. Dyck had been drinking a good
deal, but this knowledge