He could conjure up nothing of sufficient point.

He was compelled to allow his friend to escape unmolested with his packet.

And for this he took unto himself considerable credit.

It was a generous thing.
His friend at his side seemed suffering great shame.

As he contemplated him, the youth felt his heart grow more strong and stout.
He had never been compelled to blush in such manner for his acts; he was an individual of extraordinary virtues.
He reflected, with condescending pity: "Too bad! Too bad! The poor devil, it makes him feel tough!" After this incident, and as he reviewed the battle pictures he had seen, he felt quite competent to return home and make the hearts of the people glow with stories of war.