The Launching of Roger Brook

jealousy.

By February two French armies were being mobilised, one in Flanders and another on the Rhine, and war was now thought to be inevitable. But Roger took scant notice of such news, since he was wholly absorbed in his weekly poems for Athenais.

Spring came at last and with it, on a Sunday in mid-April, an event that created a drastic change in his whole outlook. As usual at the end of Mass he had, concealed in his hand, a poem for Athenais. Just as he was about to hand it to her she dropped her missal and stooped to recover it. He, too, bent swiftly to pick the book up for her. While they were both bent above it she stretched out both her hands, took his poem with one and, with the other, pressed into his free hand a Uttle three-cornered billet-doux; then she retrieved her missal and, with a smiling bow to him, walked on towards the door.

Trembling with delight and impatience to read this, her first love letter to him, he hurried into a side chapel and unfolded the single sheet of paper. On it were a few scrawled lines in an untidy, illiterate hand that looked more like the laborious effort of a child of nine than the writing of a girl of nearly sixteen. It read:

Dear Monsieur Breuc,

This is to tell you how much I have enjoyed your poems. I think it very clever of you to write them. I wish that it was possible for us to meet so that we could talk again. I found you very unusual. You interested me very much because you have seen a side of life that I shall never know. But social barriers forbid us the pleasure of such conversations. This letter is also to bid you farewell. To-morrow I leave for our Chateau at Bicherel where we always spend our summers. Next winter I do not return to Rennes. 'Tis the desire of my father that I should join him at Versailles where I am to be presented and live at Court. So we shall not see one another any more. Good fortune to you Monsieur Breuc and may God have you in His Holy keeping.

Athenais Hermonaie de Rochambeau.

Had the roof of the church fallen upon Roger he could hardly have been more shaken. The fact that she had written to him at last, the pleasure she had derived from his poems, and her obvious liking for him all went for nothing beside the one heartbreaking thought that he was never to see her again. In all his previous trials he had managed to restrain his tears but, although he was now seventeen, he leant against a pillar of the chapel and wept unrestrainedly.

For a fortnight or more he could take no interest in anything. Madame Leger, Manon, Julien and Brochard all saw that he was desperately miserable about something, but he would not confide in any of them and their efforts to cheer him up were of no avail.

In the spring of that year there had been exceptionally little rain and May was a month of glorious sunshine, but it brought upon France the evil of a terrible drought. Even in Brittany, normally rich in dairy produce, butter, milk and cheese rose to phenomenal prices. The dearth of cattle fodder was so great that the King took the unprecedented measure of throwing open the Royal Chases to the livestock of his suffering people. Yet, as usual, while the rich went short of nothing the poor had to go without, and discontent against the ruling caste caused sullen murmurings in all the great cities.

It was one day in May that Roger saw sixty wretched men all manacled together being marched through the streets under a strong guard of soldiers. They had barely passed him when they were halted on the Champ de Mars, outside the barracks; so out of curiosity he turned back a few paces and asked one of the Sergeants of the guard who the unfortunate creatures were.

'They are felons, friend,' replied the Sergeant. 'We've marched them all the way from the Bicerre prison in Paris, and are taking them to Brest. They are to be. put on one of M. de la Perouse's ships. As you may know he is the great explorer, and he is shortly making a voyage to a strange land called New Zealand. 'Tis said that there are fine hardwood trees there for making ships' masts and such-like. 'Twas Admiral de Suffren's idea, I'm told, to dump this lot there as colonists. They'll hew the wood and each year one of our ships will pick it up, then we'll be a move ahead of the English.'

Roger thanked the man and turned away. He knew that Captain Cook had hoisted the British flag in New Zealand some fifteen years earlier and this looked as if the French intended making a secret attempt to jump the British claim. The matter certainly seemed worth reporting, so he wrote an account of it to his father's friend, Mr. Gilbert Maxwell, and in due course received a formal acknowledgement.

Austria and the United Provinces were still wrangling over the opening of the Scheldt, while their armies and those of France marked time on the frontiers, but it was now definitely felt that open hostilities would be averted, at least for this summer's campaigning season.

Gradually Roger's grief grew less poignant and he began to take up his amusements of the previous summer. At first he did so only half-heartedly but, finding that the society of other young women gave him a temporary respite from the gnawing longing he felt for Athenais, he plunged recklessly into a bout of dissipation, in an attempt to banish her altogether from his mind.

To a limited degree this violent medicine had the desired effect, but by the middle of July he was both disgusted with himself and utterly wearied of making love to girls for whom he did not give a fig.

One Sunday he went again to St. Melaine, where Athenais had caused him so many violent heart-throbs, and, after Mass, remained on there when the church had emptied, taking stock of his situation. It was two years, all but a few days, since he had run away from home, and where had he got to? Where were all the fine high hopes with which his dear, ambitious Georgina had imbued him? Where would the road that he was treading lead him? Certainly not to fortune. He had become a lawyer's junior clerk, working for a pittance.

He realised that in some ways he was very fortunate and that few young men of the bourgeoisie would have found any reason to complain at his lot. He lived in reasonable comfort with a family and friends who were kindness itself to him. His salary was small but, actually, more than sufficient for his needs, since life was very cheap in Rennes. As there were no theatres, except for occasional travelling shows, and the French did not either indulge in, or go to watch, any sports the young people were, perforce, thrown back on love-making as almost their sole amusement. They thought and talked of practically nothing else and, as only the girls of the upper classes were at all strictly chaperoned, there was abundant opportunity to indulge in casual affairs. But he, as some variety to that, also had his fencing and his interesting talks with Brochard on politics and international affairs.

He felt that he really had no right to be discontented yet he could not escape the worrying thought that this life of laissez-faire was leading him nowhere. When he had first started in Maitre Leger's office it had been his intention to work there only until such time as he could save enough either to return to England or set out in search of more promising employment. He could have done so many months ago, and he suddenly realised that it was only his love for Athenais which had kept him in Rennes for so long. Now that she had gone why should he remain there longer? He had six louis put by. That was ample to keep him on the road for the best part of two months; and it was high summer again. Before he left the church he had made up his mind to give in his notice to Maitre Leger and set out once more to seek a better fortune.

After dinner that evening he asked the lawyer if he could spare him a few minutes in his office. Immediately they were settled there he went straight to the point, and said:

'I trust you'll not think me ungrateful, Monsieur, for all the kindness and hospitality you have shown me; but I feel that the time has come when I should make a change and seek some other employ­ment.'

Maitre Leger placed the tips of his fingers together and regarded Roger thoughtfully through his steel-rimmed spectacles.

'I'll not say that I am altogether surprised to hear this, Roje. In fact, for some time past I've observed that you have become somewhat unsettled. I need hardly add that I am loath to lose you, and you will leave a sad gap in our little family circle. But you have an excellent intelligence and should go far. I take it that the cause of your wishing to leave us is that you feel there are not sufficiently tempting prospects for you here?'

'I must admit that is the case, Monsieur; but I am deeply touched by the kind things you say, and I, too, shall miss all of you prodigiously, wherever I may go.'

'That sounds as if you have no plans as yet?'

Roger nodded. 'I have nothing in view at all, but I have saved a few louis; enough to support me for some weeks, and during then I hope to find a fresh opening which at least may add to my experience.' I admire your courage, but is that not rather rash?'

'Maybe it is,' Roger agreed. 'But the urge to try my luck again has come upon me.'