“Nay, ’tis unnecessary,” he replied. “Important as time is to me at present, humanity would forbid me deserting a fellow-being in such distress, and,” he added, with a piercing glance, “if I mistake not, a fellow-soldier.”
“Of some little experience,” I answered proudly.
“Why, then,” he replied, smiling, “I was about to break my fast, sir, when your boat was sighted. Permit me to play the part of host, and we will fight the battles of the world together.” And he waived me courteously to a seat.
I bowed in acceptance, and sat down to the table with mingled feelings, foremost among which was one of puzzled bewilderment. For minute by minute it was borne in on me that I had met this gentleman before, though I could not place him in my memory. Yet something in his features, in his grace of manner, seemed strangely familiar, reminding me of some one I had lately met. But of whom? And where?
CHAPTER XIII
OF THE LONELY HUT ON THE SHORE
That I should do full justice to the ample meal before me after my scanty fare of the past two days was not to be wondered at. Meantime, my host chatted pleasantly upon general subjects, more especially upon the wars in Flanders, in which I gathered he had studied the art of war under the great Turenne. Here was a subject upon which, as soldiers, we could both grow enthusiastic; and we exchanged mutual reminiscences of that great man—conceded to be the most celebrated general of his age. At length, when the wine was put before us, I said slowly:
“Doubtless you are curious to learn, sir, how I came to be in the position from which you rescued me?”
“As to that,” he replied, “seeing that I cannot at present return the like confidence as regards myself, I can respect your reticence. Enough that we are followers of the same profession. War is a common mistress for uniting her devotees all the world over.”
Yet glancing across at him, I felt that he deserved some further explanation, though I resolved not to reveal the whole truth. Little did I guess that had I indeed done so, the whole future course of my life would have been changed. Little did I dream what strange vagary Fate was playing me there in that little cabin with the grey light of morning falling upon the handsome face of the man before me!
“Nay,” I said carelessly, “’tis a common story enough. I escaped yesterday from a rascally privateer, upon which I had been entrapped.”