"He cannot well come to shipwreck with such a fair wind and such a smooth sea.

And I--I am just as well here.

To ride with the Chasseurs is more exciting than to ride with the Pytchley; and the rules of the Chambree are scarce more tedious than the rules of a Court.

Nature turned me out for a soldier, though Fashion spoiled me for one.

I can make a good campaigner--I should never make anything else." And he let his sword drop back again into the scabbard, and quarreled no more with fate.
His hand touched the thirty gold pieces in his sash.
He started, as the recollection of the forgotten insult came back on him.