next morning Betsy awoke feeling that something unusual had happened.
Her little brothers plied her and Jane with questions about the landing of the Frenchmen.
"I wish we lived close to the town," complained Alexander, "that we might hear more about Napoleon."
"Look, look!" cried Betsy, before the little fellow had finished speaking. "What is that on the side of the mountain?"
Following the direction of her finger, the other children broke into excited cries. "The French, it must be the French! There are horses with men on them. There, see the swords flash! They must be guarding a prisoner."
"Oh, I suppose it is a prisoner. But what is that white thing?"
"It is a plume; you can see that for yourself. Let us get a spyglass."
For some time the children watched the little procession curving around the mountain-side, high above them.
"It makes me think of a great serpent winding along," said Betsy.
"It doesn't look like a serpent, through the
