But my friends! my friends!--to see my old friends was the great enjoyment. "Hola," deliberate Pierre; and you three Jeans--gros Jean, grand Jean and petit Jean; "Monsieur le Notaire, bon jour!" the faces at the panes and the heads at the door! And lo, the gardens,--the broad fields so generous of harvest--the Manoir trees in the distance! And as of yore,--driving up the road those merrymen in the carts singing that well remembered "En roulant": "Le fils du roi s'en va chassant En roulant, ma boule."[E] And with sympathetic exhilaration, I swing into the old life again on the current of the jovial chorus: "En roulant, ma boule roulant: En roulant, ma boule!" [Footnote E: "The Dauphin forth a hunting goes. Roll, roll on, my rolling ball." --OLD CHANSON.] CHAPTER XV. THE LIFE OF LEADERSHIP. .... "Pourvu qu'ils vivent noblement et ne fassent aucun acte derogeant a noblesse." PATENTS OF NOBLESSE. "Light the lamps," my father ordered. Tardif, the butler, did so with alacrity. "Tardif, thou canst withdraw," added my father. "Oui, monseigneur," replied Tardif, bowing respectfully, and went. The room and its antiquated splendors looked ancestral to me. Its size struck me. It was larger than any in our town house. The family portraits and furniture revived lifelong memories. We had a fine collection of forefathers. "Chamilly"--began my father, walking up before the picture of one who was to me childhood's holy dream. He stopped for some moments, gazing up to her face with intense affection, and then turning to me, said in a broken voice--"Never forget your mother." "No, sir," I replied, bending my head. In a moment he went on to the other portraits, and his manner altered to more of pride. "Your grandfather, the Honorable Chateauguay, this. This is his Lady, your grandmother. Here is her father, a LeGardeur de Repentigny. There is the old Marshal in armor. Here is Louise d'Argentenaye, of the time of Henry IV., who married a Montcalm. Here is the Count d'Argentenaye in armor." And thus he took me about on a singular round, and informed me concerning the whole gallery. He stopped at an old, solid wood cabinet, with spiral legs, bent over and opened it with a key. "Now," thought I, "these mysteries are going to be explained." "This is a dress sword," he went on, "worn in France, at the court of Louis XIII. It was worn by one of your forefathers. Here are two decorations--Crosses of St. Louis--what beautiful little things they are. They belong to two of us who were Chevaliers." I was only still more mystified. "Come into the office, my son," said he, leading me into a room used for collecting the feudal rents and other business. "It is coming now," I exclaimed to myself. My father lifted out an iron box, ornamented with our arms in color, and handed to me a parchment, having an immense wax seal, which I took and read.