It is true that the imprisonment chafed sorely against us, as we read of the great achievements of our armies in various parts of the world--of the great battles of Cairo and the Pyramids, of Acre and Mount Thabor, and of which a holiday and a fête were to be our only share. The terrible storms which shook Europe from end to end only reached us in the bulletins of new victories, and we panted for the time when we, too, should be actors in the glorious exploits of France. It is already known to the reader that of the country from which my family came I myself knew nothing. The very little I had ever learned of it from my father was also a mere tradition; still was I known among my comrades only as ‘the Irishman,’ and by that name was I recognised, even in the record of the school, where I was inscribed thus--‘Maurice Tiernay, _dit l’Irlandais_.’ It was on this very simple and seemingly unimportant fact my whole fate in life was to turn; and in this wise-But the explanation deserves a chapter of its own, and shall have it. CHAPTER XVI. AN OLD GENERAL OF THE IRISH BRIGADE In obedience to an order which arrived at Saumur one morning in the July of 1788,1 was summoned before the commandant of the school, when the following brief colloquy ensued:-- ‘Maurice Tiernay,’ said he, reading from the record of the school, why are you called _l’Irlandais?_’ ‘I am Irish by descent, sir.’ ‘Ha! by descent. Your father was, then, an _émigré?_ ‘No, sir--my great-grandfather.’ ‘_Parbleu!_ that is going very far back. Are you aware of the causes which induced him to leave his native country?’ ‘They were connected with political trouble, I’ve heard, sir. He took part against the English, my father told me, and was obliged to make his escape to save his life.’ ‘You, then, hate the English, Maurice?’ ‘My ancestor certainly did not love them, sir.’ ‘Nor can you, boy, ever forgive their having exiled your family from country and home; every man of honour retains the memory of such injuries.’ ‘I can scarcely deem that an injury, sir, which has made me a French citizen,’ said I proudly. ‘True, boy--you say what is perfectly true and just; any sacrifice of fortune or patrimony is cheap at such a price; still you have suffered a wrong--a deep and irreparable wrong--and as a Frenchman you are ready to avenge it.’ Although I had no very precise notion, either as to the extent of the hardships done me, nor in what way I was to demand the reparation, I gave the assent he seemed to expect. ‘You are well acquainted with the language, I believe?’ continued he. ‘I can read and speak English tolerably well, sir.’ ‘But I speak of Irish, boy--of the language which is spoken by your fellow-countrymen,’ said he rebukingly. ‘I have always heard, sir, that this has fallen into disuse, and is little known save among the peasantry in a few secluded districts.’