low hill.

"What are you doing?" he asked the lad who appeared to be the
leader.

"We are playing at war, sir. We are advancing against the fortress
of La Motte. This is the regiment of Turenne."

"And who are you at other times?" the officer asked with a smile.

"My name is Hector Campbell, sir."

"Then you are not French?"

"No, sir; my father was an officer in the Scotch regiment. He was
killed at the siege of La Rochelle."

"And who is taking care of you?"

"I live with Angus MacIntosh. He was a sergeant in my father's
company. He was badly wounded at La Rochelle, and not being fit for
further service, he took a cabaret near the barracks. The officers
are very kind. They allow him a sum for taking care of me. Of
course I am often in barracks, and have learned the drill, and
I have heard and read about battles and sieges, so I am chosen to
command."

"And so you know something of the battles in which Turenne was
engaged?"