Madame Bertrand, with their husbands and children, would spend the hour after sunset listening to the crickets, of which there were thousands. Sometimes they sat on the lawn in the moonlight, gazing long at the sky, which at St. Helena is of a peculiarly deep blue.
Doubtless at such times the hearts of the poor exiles were far away among home scenes in France, and even lively Betsy for the time was quiet and subdued. One splendid starry night, as they were all on the lawn near the billiard-room steps after a very sultry day, they heard a sound as if heavy wagons were lumbering over the ground beneath. Those nearer the house thought that it was about to fall about their heads. Dr. O'Meara and Major Blakeney, Captain of the Guard, hastening from the room, expected to find the ladies half dead with fright. All the household, some from their beds, rushed out, looking wonderingly into the sky, and little Tristram Montholon ran to his mother, screaming that some one had tried to throw him out of his bed.
This was in September, and the strange rumbling was caused by an earthquake, the
