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Updated: July 20, 2025
The account may be continued in the son's own words: "Having left my mother at the inn, he walked into the town alone, and suddenly staggered in the street, and fell. He was assisted to his room, and the late Dr. Clubbe was sent for, who, after a little examination, saw through the case with great judgment.
There was a pause until the schooner felt her moorings, then Captain Clubbe looked over the side and nodded a curt salutation to River Andrew, bidding him, by the same gesture, wait a minute until he had donned his shore-going jacket. The steersman was pulling on his coat while he sought among the crowd the faces of his more familiar friends.
At this time, Clubbe remembered, Louis XVIII. was firmly established on the throne of France, the Restoration known as the Second having been brought about by the Allied Powers with a high hand after the Hundred Days and the final downfall of Napoleon.
She had broken up or rolled into deep water. A number of men were coming up the shingle in silence. Sea Andrew, dragging his feet wearily, approached in advance of them. "Boat's thrown up on the beach," he said to Captain Clubbe. "Stove in by a sea. We've found them." He stood back and the others, coming slowly into the light, deposited their burdens side by side near the fire.
Captain Clubbe could not fail to perceive the strangers, for they stood a few yards from him, Monsieur de Gemosac peering with his yellow eyes toward the deck of "The Last Hope," where Barebone stood on the forecastle giving the orders transmitted to him by a sign from his taciturn captain.
I do not understand, gentlemen, how he was permitted to do such a thing he whose life is of value to millions." He turned his head to glance sharply at Captain Clubbe, at Colville, at Turner, who listened with that half-contemptuous silence which Englishmen oppose to unnecessary or inopportune speech.
Since his change of fortune he had, as all men who rise to a great height or sink to the depths will tell, noted a corresponding change in his friends. Even Captain Clubbe had altered, and the affection which peeped out at times almost against his puritanical will seemed to have suffered a chill.
A year after his marriage his wife died, and thus her son, left to the care of a lonely and misanthropic father, was brought up a Frenchman after all, and lisped his first words in that tongue. "He lived long enough to teach him to speak French and think like a Frenchman, and then he died," said Captain Clubbe "a young man reckoning by years, but in mind he was an older man than I am today."
"He may be skilful in anything he undertakes," suggested Colville, in explanation. "It is Captain Clubbe who will tell us that. For Captain Clubbe has known him since his birth, and was the friend of his father." They sat in silence watching the shadowy figure on the dyke, outlined dimly against the hazy horizon.
And I cannot have learned it from Clubbe." He broke off with a laugh of relief, for he had perceived that Septimus Marvin's thoughts were already elsewhere. "Perhaps you are right," he added, turning to Miriam. "It may be that one should go to a republic in order to learn once for all that all men are not equal."
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