most--for nothing depends upon age in France--and
worthy to claim something lofty and grand, or else to be bought off at
a truly high figure. The little gunner has made a great mistake if he
thinks that his flat thumb of low breed can press me down shuddering,
and starving, and crouching, just until it suits him to hold up a finger
for me. My true course is now to consider myself, to watch events, and
act accordingly. My honour is free to go either way, because he has not
kept his word with me; he promised to act upon my advice, and to land
within a twelvemonth."

There was some truth in this, for Napoleon had promised that his
agent's perilous commission in England should be discharged within a
twelvemonth, and that time had elapsed without any renewal. But Carne
was clear-minded enough to know that he was bound in honour to give fair
notice, before throwing up the engagement; and that even then it would
be darkest dishonour to betray his confidence. He had his own sense of
honour still, though warped by the underhand work he had stooped to; and
even while he reasoned with himself so basely, he felt that he could not
do the things he threatened.

To a resolute man it is a misery to waver, as even the most resolute
must do sometimes; for instance, the mighty Napoleon himself. That
great man felt the misery so keenly, and grew so angry with himself for
letting in the mental pain, that he walked about vehemently, as a horse
is walked when cold water upon a hot stomach has made colic--only
there was nobody to hit him in the ribs, as the groom serves the nobler
animal. Carne did not stride about in that style, to cast his wrath out
of his toes, because his body never tingled with the sting-nettling of
his mind--as it is bound to do with all correct Frenchmen--and his
legs being long, he might have fallen down a hole into ancestral vaults
before he knew what he was up to. Being as he was, he sate still, and
thought it out, and resolved to play his own game for a while, as his
master was playing for himself in Paris.

The next day he reappeared at his seaside lodgings, looking as comely
and stately as of old; and the kind Widow Shanks was so glad to see him
that he felt a rare emotion--good-will towards her; as the hardest man
must do sometimes, especially if others have been hard upon him. He even
chucked little Susy under the chin, which amazed her so much that she
stroked her face, to make sure of its being her own, and