Suddenly René-Jean, who had gone near the window, raised his head, but dropped it the next moment, and ran to hide in a corner formed by the embrasure of the window. He had caught sight of some one looking at him. It was one of the Blues, a soldier from the encampment on the plateau, who, taking advantage of the armistice and perhaps somewhat infringing thereon, had ventured to the edge of the escarpment from whence he had gained a view of the interior of the library. Seeing René-Jean hide, Gros-Alain hid also; he cuddled down close by his brother's side, and Georgette hid herself behind them, and there they stayed silent and motionless, Georgette laying her finger on her lips. After a few moments René-Jean ventured to put out his head, but finding the soldier still there, he quickly drew it back, and the three children hardly dared to breathe. This lasted for quite a long time, but finally Georgette grew tired of it; she plucked up the courage to look out, and behold the soldier had gone, and once more they began to run and play. [Illustration 101] Gros-Alain, although an imitator and admirer of René-Jean, possessed a talent peculiarly his own, that of making discoveries; and his brother and sister now beheld him prancing in wild delight, dragging along a little four-wheeled cart, which he had unexpectedly discovered. This doll-carriage had been lying there for years, forgotten in the dust, side by side with works of genius and the busts of sages. Perhaps Gauvain may have played with it when he was a child. Gros-Alain had converted his bit of string into a whip, which he cracked with great exultation. Thus it is with discoverers. If one cannot discover America, one can at least find a small cart. It amounts to much the same thing. But he must share his treasure; René-Jean was eager to harness himself to the wagon, and Georgette tried to get in and sit down. René-Jean was the horse, Gros-Alain the coachman. But the coachman did not know his business, and the horse felt obliged to give him a few lessons. "Say, 'Get up!'" cried René-Jean. "'Get up!'" repeated Gros-Alain. The carriage upset, and Georgette fell out, whereupon she proceeded to make it known that angels can shriek,--and after that she had half a mind to cry. "You are too big, missy," said René-Jean. "I big," stammered Georgette; and her vanity seemed to console her for her fall. The cornice under the windows was very wide, and the dust of the fields from the heath-covered plateau had collected there. After the rains had changed this dust into soil, among the seeds wafted thither by the wind was a bramble, which, making the most of this shallow soil, had taken root therein; it was of the hardy variety known as the fox-blackberry, and now in August it was covered with berries, and one of its branches, pushing its way through the window, hung down almost to the floor.