army, who told me the news that I
have brought to you. He sent me here to say to you that if you will
give allegiance to his government you shall be protected against all
enemies and have the full freedom of citizens. I think you should do
this without a moment's hesitation, as I and my people at Kaskaskia
have already done. But perhaps you would like to have a word from your
distinguished fellow-citizen, Monsieur Gaspard Roussillon. Speak to
your friends, my son, they will be glad to take counsel of your wisdom."

There was a stir and a craning of necks. M. Roussillon presently
appeared near the little chancel, his great form towering majestically.
He bowed and waved his hand with the air of one who accepts distinction
as a matter of course; then he took his big silver watch and looked at
it. He was the only man in Vincennes who owned a watch, and so the
incident was impressive. Father Gibault looked pleased, and already a
murmur of applause went through the audience. M. Roussillon stroked the
bulging crystal of the time-piece with a circular motion of his thumb
and bowed again, clearing his throat resonantly, his face growing
purplish above his beard.

"Good friends," he said, "what France does all high-class Frenchmen
applaud." He paused for a shout of approbation, and was not
disappointed. "The other name for France is glory," he added, "and all
true Frenchmen love both names. I am a true Frenchman!" and he struck
his breast a resounding blow with the hand that still held the watch. A
huge horn button on his buckskin jerkin came in contact with the
crystal, and there was a smash, followed by a scattered tinkling of
glass fragments.

All Vincennes stood breathless, contemplating the irreparable accident.
M. Roussillon had lost the effect of a great period in his speech, but
he was quick. Lifting the watch to his ear, he listened a moment with
superb dignity, then slowly elevating his head and spreading his free
hand over his heart he said:

"The faithful time-piece still tells off the seconds, and the loyal
heart of its owner still throbs with patriotism."

Oncle Jazon, who stood in front of the speaker, swung his shapeless cap
as high as he could and yelled like a savage. Then the crowd went wild
for a time.

"Vive la France! A bas l' Angleterre!" Everybody shouted at the top of
his voice.

"What France does we all do," continued M. Roussillon, when the noise
subsided. "France has clasped hands with George