over with La Fayette to help the rebellious Americans.

I did not know who the rebellious Americans were, but inferred that
they were people of whom Miss Chantry thought almost as little as she
did of the French.

Croghan looked quite a boy among so many experienced gallants, but well
appointed in his dress and stepping through the figures featly. He was,
Miss Chantry said, a student of William and Mary College.

"This company of gentry will be widely scattered when it disperses
home," she told us. "There is at least one man from over-seas."

I thought of the Grignon and Tank families, who were probably on the
road to Albany. Miss Chantry bespoke her brother's attention.

"There he is."

"Who?" the doctor inquired.

"His highness," she incisively responded, "Prince Jerome Bonaparte."

I remembered my father had said that Bonaparte was a great soldier in a
far off country, and directly asked Miss Chantry if the great soldier
was in the ball-room.

She breathed a snort and turned upon my master. "Pray, are you teaching
this lad to call that impostor the great soldier?"

Doctor Chantry denied the charge and cast a weak-eyed look of surprise