Uncle Bernac: A Memory of the Empire

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CHAPTER I


THE COAST OF FRANCE

I dare say that I had already read my uncle's letter a hundred times,
and I am sure that I knew it by heart. None the less I took it out of
my pocket, and, sitting on the side of the lugger, I went over it again
with as much attention as if it were for the first time. It was written
in a prim, angular hand, such as one might expect from a man who had
begun life as a village attorney, and it was addressed to Louis de
Laval, to the care of William Hargreaves, of the Green Man in Ashford,
Kent. The landlord had many a hogshead of untaxed French brandy from
the Normandy coast, and the letter had found its way by the same hands.

'My dear nephew Louis,' said the letter, 'now that your father is dead,
and that you are alone in the world, I am sure that you will not wish to
carry on the feud which has existed between the two halves of the
family. At the time of the troubles your father was drawn towards the
side of the King, and I towards that of the people, and it ended, as you
know, by his having to fly from the country, and by my becoming the
possessor of the estates of Grosbois. No doubt it is very hard that you
should find yourself in a different position to your ancestors, but I am
sure that you would rather that the land should be held by a Bernac than
by a stranger. From the brother of your mother you will at least always
meet with sympathy and consideration.