“Oh! to the devil with Arundel Bay!” cried M. Albany; “'tis settled otherwise, and you must take it as you find it. Conflans and his men shall land upon the West--_mon Dieu!_ I trust they may escape its fangs; and measures will be there taken with more precaution and I hope with more success than in Seventeen Forty-five. Thence they will march to England, sweeping the whole country before them, and not leaving behind them a man or boy who can carry a musket. Thus they must raise the army to fifty or sixty thousand men, strike a terror into England, and carry all with a high hand. I swear 'tis a fatted hog this England: with fewer than ten thousand Highlanders I have made her thrill at the very vitals.” Thurot hummed. Plainly there was much in the project that failed to meet his favour. “And Conflans?” said he. His Royal Highness laughed. “Ha! Captain,” said he, “I know, I know. 'Twould suit you better if a certain Tony Thurot had command.” “At least,” said Thurot, “I am in my prime, while the Marshal is beyond his grand climacteric.” “And still, by your leave, with the reputation of being yet the best-- well, let us say among the best--of the sea officers of France. Come, come, Captain, there must be no half-hearts in this venture; would to Heaven I were permitted to enjoy a share in it! And on you, my friend, depends a good half of the emprise and the _gloire_.” “_Gloire!_” cried Thurot. “With every deference to your Royal Highness I must consider myself abominably ill-used in this matter. That I should be sent off to Norway and hound-in wretched Swedes with a personage like Flaubert! Oh, I protest, 'tis beyond all reason! Is it for that I have been superseded by a man like Conflans that totters on the edge of the grave?” “I hope 'tis England's grave,” retorted M. Albany with unfailing good humour, and I heard the gluck of wine as he helped himself to another glass. “I repeat _gloire_, with every apology to the experience of M. le Corsair. 'Tis your duty to advance with your French and your Swedes upon the North of England, and make the diversion in these parts that shall inconvenience the English army front or rear.” “Oh, curse your diversions!” cried Thurot. “If I have a talent at all 'tis for the main attack. And this Conflans----” The remainder of the discussion, so far as I remained to hear it, gave no enlargement upon the plan thus laid bare. But in any case my whole desire now was to escape from the house without discovery, for I had news that made my return to Britain imperative.