isoners of
Norman Cross; and Major Kelly could ever after enjoy the immense
satisfaction of reflecting that the suppression of so serious an attempt
was brought about without a drop of blood.

As an instance of the extreme peril they ran who contrived to escape, it
is recorded on a tombstone in the Churchyard of East Dereham, how Jean de
Narde, son of a Notary Public of St. Malo, a French prisoner of war (most
likely from Norman Cross), escaped from the Bell Tower of the Church
(where he had been confined temporarily on his re-capture), and was
pursued and shot by a soldier on duty October 6th, 1799, aged 28 years.
Oh, why did not that stupid fool of a soldier miss him!

But it is pleasant to add that, in the year 1857, when French and English
were fighting side by side in the Crimea, the then Vicar and two friends
erected a tombstone as a memorial of poor de Narde's untimely fate, and
"as a tribute of respect to that brave and generous Nation, once our
foes, but now our allies and brethren." And they add the words which all
but those who make profit out of war will heartily echo and re-echo,
"Ainsi soit il."

CHAPTER V.--NEARLY A SUICIDE.

An important change took place in the management of the barracks at
Norman Cross a few months after the event narrated in the preceding
chapter. Captain Mortimer, the admiralty agent, resigned his position
there on promotion to another charge. Whether the relations between him
and Major Kelly became rather strained, or whether he himself was a
little ashamed of the violent measures he had recommended to suppress the
mutiny, and which certainly had made him more unpopular than ever, cannot
be determined. But resign he did in the month of August, 1811, and was
succeeded by Captain John Draper, R.N. The exchange was a blessed one
for the prisoners: not because the important duties were done more
punctually and exactly, but because the one was a sympathising man, and
the other a mere machine. There was all the difference between the two
men that there is between the music of a street piano that rattles
through long runs with provoking correctness, and a sweet air played by
the fair hands of one whose soul is in her music.

The prisoners felt the relief before they knew whence it came, as men
breathing the close atmosphere of a crowded room may feel invigorated
before they know that a supply of pure oxygen has been introduced
therein. It was not that they fared any bet