I feel no remorse at the recollection, no more
than a soldier would feel at having served a campaign under orders from
his general. I thought that I was still living in the middle ages. The
laws of the land, with all their strength and wisdom, were to me words
devoid of meaning. I felt brave and full of vigour; fighting was a joy.
Truly, the results of our victories often made me blush; but, as they in
no way profited myself, I washed my hands of them. Nay, I remember with
pleasure that I helped more than one victim who had been knocked down to
get up and escape.
This existence, with its movement, its dangers, and its fatigues, had a
numbing effect on me. It took me away from any painful reflections which
might have arisen in my mind. Besides, it freed me from the immediate
tyranny of John. However, after the death of my grandfather, when our
band degraded itself to exploits of a different nature, I fell back
under his odious sway. I was by no means fitted for lying and fraud. I
displayed not only aversion but also incapacity for this new industry.
Consequently my uncle looked upon me as useless, and began to maltreat
me again. They would have driven me away had they not been afraid that
I might make my peace with society, and become a dangerous enemy to
themselves. While they were in doubt as to whether it was wiser to
feed me or to live in fear of me, they often thought (as I have since
learned) of picking a quarrel with me, and forcing a fight in which I
might be got rid of.
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