Another game invented by Gesril was still more dangerous. At high-tide, when there was a storm, the waves, beating at the foot of the Castle, on the side of the long beach, would leap to the level of the great towers. Twenty feet above the base of one of these towers ran a granite parapet, narrow, sloping, and slippery, leading to the ravelin which defended the moat. The trick was to seize the moment between two waves and clear the dangerous spot before the surge broke and covered the tower. You saw a mountain of water approach you, roaring as it came, which, if you delayed a minute, must either drag you with it or crush you against the wall. Not one of us refused the venture, but I have seen children turn pale before attempting it. This inclination to urge others to encounters of which he remained a spectator would lead one to think that, in after life, Gesril did not display great generosity of character; and yet, although on a smaller stage, he succeeded perhaps in surpassing the heroism of Regulus: his glory only needed Rome and Titus Livy. He became a naval officer, and he was taken prisoner in the engagement of Quiberon[70]. When the action was decided, seeing that the English continued to fire upon the Republican troops, Gesril[71] sprang into the sea, swam out to the ships, and told the English to cease fire, informing them of the disaster and of the capitulation of the Emigrants. They tried to save him by throwing a rope to him, and urged him to come on board. "I am a prisoner on parole," he cried, from the midst of the waves, and swam back to land: he was shot with Sombreuil and his companions[72]. Gesril was my first friend; both of us were misunderstood in childhood, and we became intimate through an instinct that told us what we might some day be worth. Two adventures put an end to this first part of my story, and produced a noteworthy change in the system upon which my education was conducted. We were one Sunday on the beach, in the "fan" of the Porte Saint-Thomas and along the Sillon, where great stakes sunk into the sand protect the walls against the swell of the sea. We would generally climb to the top of these stakes to watch the first waves of the rising tide flow beneath us. We had taken our places as usual; several little girls were among us small boys. I was the furthest out at sea, having none in front of me save a pretty little thing called Hervine Magon, who was laughing with pleasure and crying with fear. Gesril was at the further end inland.