t bright and early to a burly Irish Corporal and be ordered
about, as if he had been a slave, cursed at, threatened and forced to
work until his hands were blistered and his muscles sore. The bitterest
part of it all was that he had to trudge past both Roussillon place and
the Bourcier cabin with the eyes of Alice and Adrienne upon him.

Hamilton did not forget M. Roussillon in this connection. The giant
orator soon found himself face to face with a greater trial even than
Rene's. He was calmly told by the English commander that he could
choose between death and telling who it was that stole the flag.

"I'll have you shot, sir, to-morrow morning if you prevaricate about
this thing any longer," said Hamilton, with a right deadly strain in
his voice. "You told me that you knew every man, woman and child in
Vincennes at sight. I know that you saw that girl take the flag--lying
does not serve your turn. I give you until this evening to tell me who
she is; if you fail, you die at sunrise to-morrow."

In fact, it may be that Hamilton did not really purpose to carry out
this blood-thirsty threat; most probably he relied upon M. Roussillon's
imagination to torture him successfully; but the effect, as time
proved, could not be accurately foreseen.

Captain Farnsworth had energy enough for a dozen ordinary men. Before
he had been in Vincennes twelve hours he had seen every nook and corner
of its surface. Nor was his activity due altogether to military ardor,
although he never let pass an opportunity to serve the best interests
of his commander; all the while his mind was on the strikingly
beautiful girl whose saucy countenance had so dazzled him from the
roof-top of the fort, what time she wrenched away the rebel flag.

"I'll find her, high or low," he thought, "for I never could fail to
recognize that face. She's a trump."

It was not in Alice's nature to hide from the English. They had held
the town and fort before Helm came, and she had not found them
troublesome under Abbott. She did not know that M. Roussillon was a
prisoner, the family taking it for granted that he had gone away to
avoid the English. Nor was she aware that Hamilton felt so keenly the
disappearance of the flag. What she did know, and it gladdened her
greatly, was that Beverley had been well treated by his captor. With
this in her heart she went about Roussillon place singing merry
snatches of Creole songs; and when at the gate, which still hung
lop-sid