Philip Van Doren Stern (ed) (284 page)

and having
foreign
blood
in
him
and
consequently
no
feeling
for
the sport,
jeered
openly
at
Wellington's
intention.
News
of
this
got
round to
the
General,
who
ordered
Jackson
to
go
out
hunting
with
him
the next
day.
Jackson
did;
but
he
shot
the
fox
dead
in
the
middle
of
a spanking
run,
and
all
but
hit
the
General
into
the
bargain.
When
he was
had
up
before
his
Commanding
Officer
he
answered
with
great insolence,
and
he
was
cashiered
for
insubordination.
Being
a
restless fellow,
he
thought
he
would
take
service
with
the
French
or
the
Italians,
and
went
to
his
old
home,
Sardinia
or
Elba.
In
1815,
when
General
Murat
turned
out
the
French
King,
Jackson
enlisted
in
the French
Navy,
and
the
vessel
he
was
in
was
captured
not
far
from
this island
of
St.
Helena
by
a
British
frigate
just
before
peace
was
made
in
1815.
He
was
imprisoned
here
as
a
deserter,
and
would
have
been tried
for
his
life,
but
by
this
time
the
illusions
which
some
say
had been
simmering
in
him
for
a
long
time,
aggravated
by
a
blow
on
the head
which
he
had
received
in
the
scrap
at
sea,
got
the
better
of
him, and
the
doctors
said
he
was
not
responsible
for
his
actions.
They
kept him
shut
up
in
the
hospital
here
at
Longwood,
but
after
a
while
the doctor,
finding
he
was
harmless,
let
him
have
the
run
of
the
island. Harmless
he
is,
too,
although
there
is
a
warder
called
Hudson
who
has an
eye
on
him.
You
can
see
him
now,
behind
that
tree,
some
thirty yards
behind
the
Captain.
The
Captain
often
stops
to
spin
a
yam with
me,
and
he
is
pleasant
spoken
and
knowledgeable
too
about
seamanship
and
the
weather,
and
he
has
only
one
or
two
delusions.
One is
that
he
is
King
of
England,
and
the
other
that
he
can
play
cribbage, which
he
cannot
do
without
cheating,
but
we
keep
cards
out
of
his way
lest
they
should
upset
him.

"Would
you
like
to
speak
with
him?"
said
my
host.
"He
is
coming this
way."

I
said
I
would
be
delighted
to,
and,
as
Captain
Jackson
walked towards
the
house
where
we
were
sitting,
my
host
rose
and
beckoned to
him.

Captain
Jackson
had
a
remarkable
face,
remarkable
for
its
extreme pallor,
and
for
the
brilliance
of
his
penetrating
eyes.
He
looked
me
up and
down,
and
then
asked
in
an
abrupt
way:

"Oxford
or
Cambridge?"

I
felt
embarrassed
by
his
abruptness,
but
managed
to
get
the
word Oxford
across
my
lips.

"What
college?"
he
asked.
"Balliol,
I
suppose."
And
without
waiting
for
an
answer
he
said:
"What
are
you
studying?"