In the Reign of Terror | Page 8

comparisons
between French and English customs; fall in with the ways of those
around you; and adopt as far as you can the polite and courteous
manner which is general among the French, and in which, I must say,
they are far ahead of us. If questioned, you will, of course, give your
opinion frankly and modestly; it is the independence of thought among
English boys which has attracted the attention and approval of Auguste
de St. Caux.
"Be natural and simple, giving yourself no airs, and permitting none on
the part of the lads you are with; their father says you are to be treated
as their equal. But, upon the other hand, do not be ever on the lookout
for small slights, and bear with perfect good temper any little ridicule
your, to them foreign, ways and manners may excite. I need not tell you
to be always straightforward, honest, and true, for of those qualities I
think you possess a fair share. Above all things restrain any tendency to
use your fists; fighting comes naturally to English boys, but in France it
is considered as brutal and degrading - a blow is a deadly insult, and
would never be forgiven.
"So, whatever the provocation, abstain from striking anyone. Should
you find that in any way your position is made intolerable, you will of
course appeal to the marquis, and unless you obtain redress you will
come home - you will find no difficulty in travelling when you once
understand the language - but avoid anything like petty complaints. I
trust there will be no reason for complaints at all, and that you will find
your position an exceedingly pleasant one as soon as you become
accustomed to it; but should occasion arise bear my words in mind."
Harry promised to follow his father's advice implicitly, but in his own
mind he wondered what fellows did when they quarrelled if they were
not allowed to fight; however, he supposed that he should, under the
circumstances, do the same as French boys, whatever that might be.

As soon as the packet was once fairly beyond the harbour Harry's
thoughts were effectually diverted from all other matters by the motion
of the sailing boat, and he was soon in a state of prostration, in which
he remained until, seven hours later, the packet entered Calais harbour.
Dr. Sandwith had requested the captain to allow one of his men to show
Harry the way to the Lion door. Harry had pulled himself together a
little as the vessel entered the still water in the harbour, and was staring
at the men in their blue blouses and wooden shoes, at the women in
their quaint and picturesque attire, when a sailor touched him on the
shoulder:
"Now, young sir, the captain tells me I am to show you the way to your
hotel. Which is your box?"
Harry pointed out his trunk; the sailor threw it on his shoulder, and
Harry, with a feeling of bewilderment, followed him along the
gangway to the shore. Here he was accosted by an officer.
"What does he say?" he asked the sailor.
"He asks for your passport."
Harry fumbled in his breast pocket for the document which his father
had obtained for him from the foreign office, duly viseed by the French
ambassador, notifying that Henry Sandwith, age sixteen, height five
feet eight, hair brown, eyes gray, nose short, mouth large, was about to
reside in France in the family of the Marquis de St. Caux. The officer
glanced it over, and then returned it to Harry with a polite bow, which
Harry in some confusion endeavoured to imitate.
"What does the fellow want to bow and scrape like that for?" he
muttered to himself as he followed his guide. "An Englishman would
just have nodded and said 'All right!' What can a fellow want more, I
should like to know? Well I suppose I shall get accustomed to it, and
shall take to bowing and scraping as a matter of course."
The Lion door was close at hand. In reply to the sailor's question the
landlord said that M. du Tillet was within. The sailor put down the
trunk, pocketed the coin Harry gave him, and with a "Good luck, young
master!" went out, taking with him, as Harry felt, the last link to
England. He turned and followed the landlord. The latter mounted a
flight of stairs, knocked at a door, and opened it.
"A young gentleman desires to see M. du Tillet," he said, and Harry
entered.

A tall, big man, whose proportions at once disappointed Harry's
preconceived notions as to the smallness and leanness of Frenchmen,
rose from the table at which he was writing.
"Monsieur-Sandwith?" he said interrogatively. "I am glad to