CHAPTER IX._With Cochrane the Dauntless

IN CHILI.

Seeing that a boat was advertised to sail from Dover to Calais on the 11th

of August, Lieutenant Embleton and Stephen went over there on the evening

before; going on board at seven in the morning, they arrived at Calais at

mid-day. Mr. Hewson had obtained passports for them, and they went on next

morning by diligence to Boulogne. Stephen’s chest was at once taken on

board the _Rose_. Making inquiries at the _mairie_ they learned that Lord

Cochrane had arrived with his family on the previous day from England, and

had put up at the Cheval Blanc Hotel. They therefore went there and

engaged rooms, and then called upon Lord Cochrane.

“You have arrived in good time, Embleton,” he said as they entered. “When

did you come?”

“Two hours ago we got in from Calais, and I have just been on board the

_Rose_ and left my lad’s traps there; then I found out at the _mairie_

that you had arrived and had put up here, and we have also taken up our

quarters in the house.”

“We laugh at these French official regulations,” Lord Cochrane said, “but

they have their advantages. If this had been an English town you might

have spent half the day in looking for me. I have not been on board the

_Rose_ yet; in fact, she only arrived here last night, and as the cabins

have been engaged for some time there was no occasion to hurry about it.

In fact, this morning I have been engaged in laying in a good stock of

wine, not for the voyage but for use in Chili. Of course one gets it here

a good deal cheaper than in England, as one saves the duty; and besides, I

might have had some trouble with the custom-house here if it had been sent

over. I don’t suppose they would admit their own wine and brandy without

charging some duty upon it. Are you ready to enter upon your duties, Mr.

Embleton?”

“Quite ready, my lord.”

“Well, I have nothing for you to do, and as far as I am concerned your

duties will be a sinecure until the day we arrive in Chili. Katherine, you

must take this young gentleman in hand.”

Lady Cochrane smiled. “I am new to command, Mr. Embleton. Lord Cochrane

has not been to sea since our marriage six years ago, and consequently I

am altogether in ignorance of the powers of an admiral’s wife. Are you

fond of children?”

“I don’t know anything about them, Lady Cochrane; I have never had any

little brothers and sisters. Of course some of my school-fellows had them,

and it always seemed to me that they were jolly little things when they

were in a good temper.”

“But not at other times, Mr. Embleton?”

“Well, no,” he said honestly, “they did not seem particularly nice when

they got in a passion.”

“My children don’t get into passions,” Lady Cochrane said with a laugh,

“at least very very seldom.”

“Don’t praise them up too much, Katherine,” her husband said. “Children

are naturally plagues; and though unfortunately I have been so busy a man

that I have not had time to do more than make their casual acquaintance, I

don’t expect that they differ much from others; and besides, even I fly

into passions occasionally—”

“Occasionally?”

“Well, pretty often, if you like—I certainly shall not be surprised if I

find that they take after me.”

The next two days were spent by Mr. Embleton and Stephen in exploring

Boulogne.

“I have often looked at the place from the sea,” the lieutenant said, “as

we were cruising backwards and forwards, keeping a bright look-out to see

that Bonaparte’s boat flotilla did not put to sea, but I did not expect

that I should some day be walking quietly about the streets.”

“Lady Cochrane seems very nice, father,” Stephen said presently, as they

strolled along the wharves watching the French fishing-boats come in.

“She is very nice; and so she ought to be, for she has cost Lord Cochrane

a fortune. She was a Miss Barnes, and was an orphan of a family of good

standing in the Midlands; she was under the guardianship of her cousin,

who was high sheriff of Kent when Cochrane first met her. He fell in love

with her and was accepted; he was at that time living with his uncle, the

Hon. Basil Cochrane, who had realized a large fortune in the East Indies,

and was anxious that Cochrane should marry the only daughter of an

official of the admiralty court. Even had he not been attached to Miss

Barnes the proposal was one that was signally distasteful to Cochrane. He

had been engaged in exposing the serious malpractices by which the

officials of the admiralty court amassed great fortunes at the expense of

the seamen, and for him to have benefited by these very malpractices would

have seemed a contradiction of all his principles. His uncle in vain

pointed out to him that the fortune he himself would leave him, and that

which he would obtain by the marriage, would suffice to reinstate the

Earls of Dundonald in their former position as large landowners.

“Cochrane’s determination was unshaken and he married Miss Barnes, so his

uncle cut him out from his will entirely and broke off all acquaintance

with him. I am sure, however, he has never for a moment regretted his

choice. I believe that she makes him as perfectly happy as it is possible

for a man of his restless disposition to be.”

On the 15th of August, 1818, the _Rose_ sailed from Boulogne, and

Lieutenant Embleton, who had remained on board with his son until she got

under way, returned to England.

“Do you know anything about this Chilian business?” Lord Cochrane asked

Stephen as they walked up and down the deck together on the following

morning.

“My father told me a little about it, sir, but he said that he had not

paid much attention to the matter until he received your kind offer to

take me.”

“Well, lad, it is well you should know something about the rights and

wrongs of the struggle in which you are going to take part. You know that

the Spaniards obtained their possessions in South America partly by right

of discovery, and partly by the papal bull that settled the matter. The

Portuguese were given the east coast, while to Spain were handed, besides

the islands, the vast territories of Mexico and Central America and the

whole of the western portion of South America. In extent it considerably

surpassed that of Europe, and its natural wealth, had it been properly

administered, would have been fabulous. The Spaniards, however, thought

but of two things: one was to force the natives to embrace their religion,

the other to wring all they possessed from them. The first caused the

death of great numbers of the Indians; the second brought about the

virtual enslavement of the whole of the native races.

“The tyranny practised by the Spaniards upon these poor people was

inconceivable. Tens of thousands, I may say hundreds of thousands,

perished from the labour exacted from them in the mines, and the whole

people were kept in a state of poverty that the Spanish officials might be

enriched, and that the annual amount of gold and silver sent to Spain

might be obtained. No doubt it was the successful revolt of the North

American colonies against us that first inspired these down-trodden people

with the hope of shaking off the intolerable yoke under which they

suffered. The first leader they found was Francesco Miranda, a Creole of

Venezuela, that is to say, he belonged to a Spanish family long settled

there. He came over to Europe in 1790, and two years later took part in

the French Revolution. Hearing that revolutionary movements had taken

place in Mexico and New Granada against Spain he obtained a promise of

assistance from Pitt, who naturally embraced the opportunity of crippling

Spain, which was hostile to us, and in 1794 went out and threw himself

into the struggle, which continued with but doubtful success for some

years.

“In 1806 Miranda obtained some valuable aid from my uncle, Sir Alexander

Cochrane, who was then in command of the West Indian station, and things

looked much brighter for the cause of independence. But unfortunately a

few months later Pitt died, the Whigs came into power, and as usual a

feeble policy succeeded a strong one, and all aid was withdrawn from

Miranda. The result was that, for a time, the Spaniards were able to crush

the insurgents. In 1810 Miranda again organized a revolt in Venezuela; but

he was unable to cope with the power of Spain, and two years later he was

taken a prisoner and sent to Madrid, where he died in prison. However, his

work had not been without result, for the same year that he commenced his

unfortunate venture in Venezuela a revolt broke out in Mexico headed by a

priest named Miguel Hidalgo. This was conducted in a barbarous fashion and

was speedily crushed. Two leaders of a better type, Morelos and Rayon,

still continued to carry on the war, but their forces were defeated in

1815, and though I believe there has been occasional fighting since then,

matters have been comparatively quiet.

“In South America things went better. In 1809 a revolt broke out at Quito;

it was headed by a man named Narenno. His force, however, was never strong

enough to seriously menace the power of Spain. However, for five years he

maintained a guerrilla warfare, fighting with desperate bravery until he

was captured and sent to Spain, where I believe he also died in prison. So

far a great deal of blood had been shed, great destruction of property

effected, and Spain had been put to a vast expense, but the situation was

practically unaltered. A change was, however, at hand. Bolivar, a native

of Caracas, had been brought up in Europe, but, stirred by the news of the

struggle that his countrymen were maintaining, he went out in 1810 to join

Miranda in Venezuela. When the latter was defeated and taken prisoner

Bolivar crossed into New Granada, where an insurrection had broken out,

and his knowledge of European methods of warfare and discipline soon

placed him at the head of the movement there, and two years after his

arrival he was appointed Captain-general of New Granada and Venezuela.

“The title was an empty one, and in a very short time he was defeated and

forced to fly from the country by a formidable Spanish army, which was

sent out in 1815 to crush the rebellion. Bolivar fled to Jamaica, where he

remained but a few months. He organized a considerable force in Trinidad

in 1816, and landed again on the mainland. The cruelties perpetrated by

the conquering Spaniards upon the population, had stirred up so intense a

feeling of hatred against them that Bolivar was speedily joined by great

numbers of men. He gained success after success, swept the northern

provinces clear of the Spaniards, founded the republic of Colombia, of

which he was elected president, drove the tyrants out of New Granada, and

marching south freed the province of La Plata from the Spanish yoke. While

these events had been taking place in the northern and western provinces

the national movement had extended to Chili. Here in 1810 the people rose,

deposed the Spanish Captain-general Carrasco, and set up a native

government, of which the Count De La Conquista was at the head.

“The movement here was not so much against Spain, whose sovereignty was

still recognized, as against the Spanish governor, and to obtain a series

of reforms that would mitigate the tyranny that had been exercised.

Naturally, however, these reforms were obnoxious in the extreme to the

Spanish authorities, and in 1811 the Spanish troops attempted to overthrow

the new government. They were, however, unsuccessful; the revolution

triumphed, and the rule of Spain was formally thrown off, and Chili

declared an independent state. This was a good beginning, but troubles set

in almost directly. Three brothers, of the family of Carrera, set to work

to turn the popular movement to their own benefit, and by their intrigues

overthrew the National Congress, and established a new government with the

elder of them as its head. So much dissatisfaction was caused by the

corruption and misgovernment of the Carreras, that the Spaniards

endeavoured to reconquer Chili.

“When the danger was imminent a new actor came to the front. General

O’Higgins, a man of Irish descent, whose father had been a Spanish viceroy

of Peru, was put at the head of affairs in November, 1813, and the

Spaniards, who had won their way to the capital, were forced by his good

generalship to retire again. The intrigues of the Carreras, however, still

divided the forces of Chili, and the Spaniards again advanced from Peru.

O’Higgins, seeing the danger, effected a junction with the forces of the

Carreras, and offered to give them his support, and to resign his position

in their favour, if they would co-operate with him. The Carreras, however,

held aloof with their bands from the battle, and left O’Higgins and his

little body of 900 men to oppose 4000 Spanish troops. The natural result

was the defeat of the Chilians. On the 1st of October O’Higgins, with his

little party, were attacked at Rancagua by the Spaniards, and for

thirty-six hours resisted their continuous attacks. The Carreras’ force

was but a short distance away, and both sides expected them to attack the

Spaniards in rear. They preferred, however, that their rival, as they

regarded him, should be destroyed, and held aloof.

“At last O’Higgins, with but 200 men—all that now survived of his

force—was driven into the great square of the town, and surrounded on all

sides. He still resisted, however, until half his force had fallen, and

then, although seriously wounded, he placed himself at the head of the

survivors, cut his way through the enemy, and effected his retreat. The

extraordinary valour displayed by the Chilians in this battle stirred our

English blood, and we felt that here was a people who had not, like the

rest of the South American races, become absolutely demoralized by

centuries of misgovernment by the Spaniards. At the time, however, their

cause seemed lost. The Carreras submitted without trying to strike another

blow, and O’Higgins, with the handful of survivors from Rancagua, and some

hundreds of fugitives, crossed the Andes into La Plata, where they

remained for two and a half years in exile. General San Martin, who fought

under Bolivar, and had taken the leading part in aiding La Plata to obtain

its freedom, felt himself strong enough at the beginning of 1817 to aid

O’Higgins to recover Chili from the Spaniards, who had been carrying out

wholesale confiscations and persecutions among all who had taken any part

in the revolution.

“In February they crossed the Andes with 5000 men, fell upon the main

Spanish army, of about the same strength, which was encamped on the

heights of Chacabuco, a position from which they overawed all the large

towns. Having the advantage of surprise, they completely defeated the

Spaniards, and in a very short time drove them altogether out of Chili.

The republic was again established, and the presidency offered to San

Martin. He declined the honour, however, and it was then conferred upon

O’Higgins. He and his council saw that it was impossible to hope for

permanent peace so long as the Spaniards were able to gather armies in

Peru, and pour them down into Chili whenever they chose, so he lost no

time in sending Don Jose Alvarez over here to endeavour to raise money in

the name of the republic to build war-ships, and enlist public sympathy on

their behalf.

“Among other things he was commissioned to offer me the command of the

Chilian fleet as soon as one should be created; and as my sympathies were

very strongly with the brave people who were struggling against tyranny, I

at once accepted, but have been detained in England upwards of a year

trying to get the war-steamer that we have been building completed. At

last the Chilians have concluded that as they cannot get the steamer they

may as well get me, and so you see I am on my way out.”

“Thank you, sir,” Stephen said; “I shall feel a great interest now in the

cause of the Chilians. My father told me they were fighting against the

Spaniards, but I did not interest myself much in the matter, and thought

much more of the honour of serving under you than of the Chilian cause.

Now that I know that they are really a brave people, struggling to

maintain their freedom, I shall feel proud of fighting in so good a

cause.”

“How old are you, Mr. Embleton?”

“I was sixteen some months ago, sir.”

The admiral nodded: “A very useful age for work; you are old enough to

hold your own in a fight, not old enough to begin to think that you know

all about everything. Now, tell me all about that affair of yours when you

lost your ship. Tell me everything you can think of, just as it happened.

Don’t exaggerate your own share in it, but, on the other hand, let me know

what you did and what you said. You see I know very little about you as

yet; but if you will tell me all the details of the business I shall be

able to form some idea as to how far I shall be able to entrust the

carrying out of my orders to you, and to confide in your ability to

discharge any special missions on which I may employ you. You see, Mr.

Embleton, the conduct of the Chilians in that matter of the Carreras shows

that, however bravely they may fight, as yet they have not much idea of

subordination. They know nothing of sea-service, and the chances are that

interest and family will go further in obtaining the appointment of

officers to ships than any question of abilities; and it will be very

useful for me to have some one I can trust—even if only a junior

officer—to see that my orders are carried out when I cannot be present

myself; therefore, I want to gather from your story exactly how you would

be likely to behave under difficult circumstances. We will sit down in

these two deck-chairs; and you shall tell me the story exactly as you

would tell it to your father. Remember that I am in no hurry. This voyage

is going to last a good many weeks. The more you tell the story in detail

the better I shall be pleased.”

So closely did the admiral question Stephen as to every detail that it

took many hours to tell the story. Even when he mentioned about the idea

that by putting some water in his watch-glass he could, when the sun was

overhead, use it as a burning-glass, the admiral stopped him to inquire

about the watch.

“Is it the one you are carrying now?”

“Yes.”

“Then let me look at it. Handsome watch, youngster; did your father give

it to you?” And then Stephen had to break off from his story, and to tell

exactly how it came into his possession—the whole history of his trading,

and its result. The story was not brought to a conclusion until the

following afternoon.

“Very good, Mr. Embleton,” Lord Cochrane said; “now I know a great deal

more about you than I did before, and feel that I can employ you without

hesitation in matters in which brain as well as courage is required. If I

had heard your story before I would have taken out that sailor as my

coxswain. Between you, you showed a great deal of resource, and, as far as

I can see, the credit of the matter may be divided between you. Your

getting your fellow-midshipman out of the hands of the Malays was well

managed. You took every precaution possible to throw them off the scent.

You acted very wisely in deciding to make for that wreck when you

discovered its position; and you showed good powers of resource in your

arrangements there, especially in the matter of getting fire. I hear from

your father that you are well up in navigation, and altogether I

congratulate myself on having a young officer with me whom I can trust. It

was, of course, a mere matter of chance I appointed you—simply in order to

oblige your father, who is a gallant officer, and who has suffered in his

profession owing to having served under me. Among the many applications

made to me were some for young officers who possessed very high

testimonials of conduct and good service, and I may say frankly that I was

more than a little tempted to regret that I had selected one of whose

conduct I knew nothing, although I felt sure that your father’s son would

assuredly have no lack of courage and ability. However, I am now well

content that I made the choice I did, indeed I feel sure that I could not

have made a better one.”

It was a long voyage, for the _Rose_ met with such bad weather off the

Cape that she was at first unable to weather it, and it was ten weeks from

the date of her sailing before she entered the harbour of Valparaiso. The

voyage had been of advantage to Stephen. In the rough weather off the

coast he had volunteered for duty, and had shown activity and courage,

going aloft to reef or furl sails in the worst weather. He had, too, by

his readiness at all times to take the children off Lady Cochrane’s hands,

to play with them, and to tell them stories, gained the warm approbation

of their parents, and, before they arrived at Valparaiso, the admiral

treated him with a kindness and cordiality such as he might have shown to

a young nephew acting as his flag-midshipman. Lord Cochrane was received

at Valparaiso, and at Santiago, the capital, with enthusiasm—dinners,

fêtes, and balls were given in his honour; and although he cared but

little for such things, it could not but be gratifying to him, after the

cruel treatment he had met with from those for whom he had performed such

brilliant services, to find that elsewhere his reputation stood at the

highest point.

Stephen, who of course accompanied the admiral on all occasions, enjoyed

these festivities very much more than did Lord Cochrane. To him it was all

quite new, and very pleasant. He shone in the reflected light of the

admiral, and was made a great deal of by the young Chilian ladies, the

only drawback being his ignorance of the language. He had, however, on the

way out, picked up a little from some Chilian passengers on board the

_Rose_, and it was not long before he was able to talk to a certain extent

to his partners in the dances. Nevertheless, much as he enjoyed himself,

he was by no means sorry when, on the 22nd of December, Lord Cochrane, who

had received his commission as Vice-admiral of Chili, and

Commander-in-chief of its naval forces, hoisted his flag on board the

principal ship of the Chilian navy.

He had arrived none too soon. A large Spanish force was advancing from

Peru against Santiago, their formidable fleet were masters of the sea, and

they were fitting out a naval expedition for an attack on Valparaiso. The

Chilian admiral, Blanco Encalada, had succeeded in capturing a Spanish

fifty-gun frigate, which had been renamed the _O’Higgins_; but this was

only a temporary success; and with his undisciplined and badly-equipped

fleet he was quite unable to withstand the threatened attack of the

Spaniards. Lord Cochrane had to encounter troubles from the outset. Among

the Chilian fleet was the _Hecate_, an eighteen-gun sloop that had been

sold out of the British navy, and purchased by two men, Captains Guise and

Spry, as a speculation. They at first attempted to sell her at Buenos

Ayres, but, failing to do so, had brought her on to Chili, where the

government had bought the ship, and had appointed them to command her.

They, and an American captain named Worcester, had obtained a considerable

influence over Admiral Encalada, and seeing that this influence would be

shaken by Lord Cochrane’s ascendency, they formed an intrigue to persuade

the Chilian admiral to insist upon retaining the chief command, or upon

dividing it with Lord Cochrane.

Admiral Encalada, however, refused to allow himself to be made their tool,

saying that he would wish for no greater honour than that of serving under

so distinguished an officer as Lord Cochrane; for a time, therefore, their

intrigue was defeated. No sooner had he hoisted his flag on board the

_O’Higgins_ than Lord Cochrane set to work with his usual energy to

complete the outfit of his little fleet. This consisted, in addition to

the _O’Higgins_, of the _San Martin_ and _Lautaro_—both of which had been

East Indiamen: the former carried 56 guns, the latter 44—the _Hecate_, now

called the _Galvarino_, of 18 guns; the _Chacabuco_, of 20; the _Aracano_,

of 16; the _Puyrredon_, of 14. The Spanish fleet consisted of three

frigates: the _Esmeralda_, of 44 guns; the _Bengenza_, of 42; and the

_Sebastian_, of 28; and four brigs: one of 22 guns, and three of 18. There

was also a schooner carrying one heavy gun and 20 small ones; the rest

were armed merchantmen: the _Resolution_, of 36 guns; the _Cleopatra_, of

28; the _Fernando_, of 26; the _La Focha_, of 20; and the _Guarmey_ and

_San Antonio_, of 18 each.

On the 16th of January, leaving Admiral Blanco to complete the equipment

of the _Galvarino_, the _Aracano_, and the _Puyrredon_, Lord Cochrane

sailed with the _O’Higgins_, _San Martin_, _Lautaro_, and _Chacabuco_.

From the day the admiral’s flag was hoisted to that upon which he sailed,

Stephen’s life had undergone a sudden and complete change. From morning

until night he was engaged in rowing from the flagship to the other

vessels, and in carrying orders, ascertaining how certain portions of the

work were getting on, and reporting to the admiral, or going on shore to

the dockyard with urgent requisitions for stores required. Lord Cochrane

himself was equally busy. He went from ship to ship, and stood by the

captains while the crews were put through their exercises in making and

shortening sails, practising the drill and cutlass exercise on the deck,

or working the guns. Hard as was the work imposed upon them by the

constant drills, the enthusiasm and energy of the admiral so communicated

itself to most of the officers and seamen that astonishing progress was

made in the four weeks that elapsed before sailing. Though it could hardly

be said that the smartness of the crews equalled that which would be shown

by British men-of-war’s men, the work was very fairly done, and the

admiral felt convinced that his ships would be worked and manœuvred far

more rapidly than those of the Spaniards.

Stephen had from the first messed with the ship’s officers. Lord Cochrane

had said to him on the day when he hoisted his flag: “As my

flag-midshipman, Mr. Embleton, I could very well have you, as well as my

flag lieutenant, at my table, but I think that it would be better for you

to mess with the officers. I find that in the Chilian service the

midshipmen do not mess by themselves, as is the case with us, but have a

common mess with the lieutenants. There are certainly considerable

advantages in this arrangement; though it might not work well in our navy,

where boys are much more mischievous and given to pranks than are those of

southern people. They do not enter so young into the service, and the six

midshipmen on board are none of them younger than yourself. They are all

members of good old families here, and there is therefore no need for so

strict a line of distinction between midshipmen and lieutenants as there

is with us. The system is more like that which prevails in our army, where

the youngest ensigns associate when off duty on terms of equality with

their elders. Mingling with them you will acquire the language far more

rapidly than you would do were you to take your meals at my table.

Moreover, I think that it will be a more pleasant and natural life for

you, while it will avoid any appearance of favouritism and be altogether

better.”

Stephen bowed. Fond as he was of the admiral, he felt himself that it

would be more pleasant to associate with lads of his own age, than to be

always on his best behaviour. He already knew all the officers, having met

them at the various entertainments at Valparaiso. He had found them

pleasant young fellows, though their airs of manliness and gravity had

amused him a good deal, but he wished that he had in addition his old

friend Joyce, with whom he could occasionally skylark, quarrel, and make

it up again, after the manner of boys. The wardroom was large and airy,

and there was ample space for the party. At meals they consisted of the

three lieutenants, the surgeon, purser, and seven midshipmen. As he had

never been accustomed to a rough life in the cock-pit of a British

man-of-war, the contrast to his former condition was not so strong as it

would have been to a midshipman in the royal service; but the somewhat

stiff courtesy that prevailed among the Chilian officers in their

relations to each other differed widely from the frank heartiness at

Captain Pinder’s table. When the meals were over, however, the air of

restraint softened a little, and Stephen soon became on intimate terms

with the other midshipmen, three or four of whom had never been to sea

before.

“Is this like life on board your ships?” one of them asked him a few days

after he had joined.

“Not a bit, Don Enriques. To begin with, the midshipmen never dine with

the lieutenants, and they don’t live half as well as we do. In the next

place, you are a great deal more serious, and a great deal more dignified

that English midshipmen are. With us they are always playing tricks with

each other. We may be officers on board the ship, but when we are among

ourselves we are just like other boys of the same age.”

“But you do not consider yourself a boy, Don Estevan?”

“I do indeed,” Stephen laughed; “and no one thinks himself a man until he

is quite a senior midshipman.”

“But if you play tricks on each other you must quarrel sometimes?”

“Oh, yes, we quarrel, and then we have a fight, and then we are good

friends again.”

“Ah! Do you fight with swords or pistols?”

Stephen laughed. “We fight with our fists.”

“What, like common people!” the young Chilian said, greatly shocked.

“Just the same, except that we fight a little better. That is the way we

always settle quarrels among boys in England, and a very good way it is.

One gets a black eye or something of that sort, and there is an end of it.

As for fighting with swords or pistols, I do not know what would happen if

two midshipmen were to fight a duel. In the first place they would get

into a frightful row, and in the second place they would be the

laughing-stock of the whole fleet. Of course, in a country like this,

where a blow is considered as the deadliest of insults, things are

different; but in England it is not viewed in the same light. Everyone

knows something of boxing, that is, of the proper way of using the fists,

and it has come to be the national way of fighting among the common people

and among boys of all classes.”

“And would you, for example, Don Estevan, consent to fight with a boy or

with a man of the peasant class if he injured you?”

“Certainly I would,” Stephen said. “I don’t know that I would fight a big

man, because evidently I should have very little chance with him; but if I

quarrelled with a fellow my own age, we should of course pitch into each