At dawn we got ashore on Battle Point. We waited there, Louise and I, while D'ri went away to bring horses. The sun rose clear and warm; it was like a summer morning, but stiller, for the woods had lost their songful tenantry. We took the forest road, walking slowly. Some bugler near us had begun to play the song of Yankee-land. Its phrases travelled like waves in the sea, some high-crested, moving with a mighty rush, filling the valleys, mounting the hills, tossing their spray aloft, flooding all the shores of silence. Far and near, the trees were singing in praise of my native land. "Ramon," said Louise, looking up at me, a sweet and queenly dignity in her face, "I have come to love this country." "And you could not have done so much for me unless you had loved--" She looked up at me quickly, and put her finger to her lips. My tongue faltered, obeying the command. How sweet and beautiful she was then, her splendid form erect, the light of her eyes softened by long lashes! She looked down thoughtfully as she gave the bottom of her gown a shake. "Once upon a time," said she, slowly, as our eyes met again, "there was a little country that had a cruel king. And he commanded that none of all his people should speak until--until--" She hesitated, stirring the dead leaves with her dainty foot. "Until a great mountain had been removed and buried in the sea," she added in a low tone. "Ah, that was hard." "Especially for the ladies," she went on, sighing. "Dieu! they could only sit and hold their tongues and weep and feel very foolish. And the longer they were silent the more they had to say." "And those who broke the law?" I inquired. "Were condemned to silence for their lives," she answered. "Come, we are both in danger; let us go." A bit farther on we came to a log house where a veteran of the old war sat playing his bugle, and a motherly woman bade us sit awhile at the door-step. XXVI D'ri came soon with horses, one the black thoroughbred of Louise which had brought her on this errand. We gave them free rein, heading for the chateau. Not far up the woods-pike we met M. de Lambert and the old count. The former was angry, albeit he held himself in hand as became a gentleman, save that he was a bit too cool with me. "My girl, you have upset us terribly," said the learned doctor. "I should like to be honored with your confidence." "And I with your kindness, dear father," said she, as her tears began falling. "I am much in need of it." "She has saved my life, m'sieur," I said. "Then go to your work," said he, coolly, "and make the most of it." "Ah, sir, I had rather--" "Good-by," said Louise, giving me her hand. "Au revoir," I said quickly, and wheeled my horse and rode away. The boats were ready. The army was waiting for the order, now expected any moment, to move. General Brown had not been at his quarters for a day.