e; but yet, with the inconsistency of the
age, sometimes attacked other members of it. His furious energy was
always disturbing the world, and Felix had no doubt he was now at war
with some one or other, and that the war-ship he had seen was on its way
to assist him or his enemies. One of the possibilities which had
impelled him to this voyage was that of taking service with some king or
commander, and so perhaps gradually rising himself to command.

Such adventures were very common, knights often setting forth upon such
expeditions when dissatisfied with their own rulers, and they were
usually much welcomed as an addition to the strength of the camp they
sought. But there was this difference: that such knights carried with
them some substantial recommendation, either numerous retainers well
armed and accustomed to battle, considerable treasure, or at least a
reputation for prowess in the field. Felix had nothing to offer, and for
nothing nothing is given.

The world does not recognise intrinsic worth, or potential genius.
Genius must accomplish some solid result before it is applauded and
received. The unknown architect may say: "I have a design in my mind for
an impregnable castle." But the world cannot see or appreciate the mere
design. If by any personal sacrifice of time, dignity, or self-respect
the architect, after long years, can persuade someone to permit him to
build the castle, to put his design into solid stone which squadrons may
knock their heads against in vain, then he is acknowledged. There is
then a tangible result.

Felix was in the position of the architect. He believed he had ideas,
but he had nothing substantial, no result, to point to. He had therefore
but little hope of success, and his natural hauteur and pride revolted
against making application for enrolment which must be accompanied with
much personal humiliation, since at best he could but begin in the
common ranks. The very idea of asking was repugnant to him. The thought
of Aurora, however, drew him on.

The pride was false, he said to himself, and arose from too high an
estimate of his abilities; or it was the consequence of living so long
entirely secluded from the world. He acknowledged to himself that he had
not been beaten down to his level. Full of devotion to Aurora, he
resolved to humble himself, to seek the humblest service in King
Isembard's camp, to bow his spirit to the orders of men above him in
rank but below him in birth