till our duty is done."

"I cannot--I shall not," Genifrede muttered to herself, as she cast down
her eyes under her father's compassionate gaze. He looked towards
Aimee, who answered, with tearful eyes--

"Yes, father. They must go; and we will not hinder them; but they will
soon be back, will not they?"

"That depends on how soon we can make good soldiers of them," said he,
cheerfully. "Come, Moyse, have you changed your mind again? Or will
you stay and plait hammocks, while my boys are trained to arms?"

"I shall not stay behind, if the others go. But why should not we all
go together? I am sure there is room enough in yonder valley for all
the people on this coast."

"Room enough, but my family are better beside your father than among
soldiers and the hunters of the mountains. Stay with them, or go with
me. Shoot ducks, and pick up shell-fish here; or go with me, and
prepare to be General Moyse some day."

Moyse looked as if he would have knocked his uncle down at the
supposition that he would stay to pick up shell-fish. He could not but
laugh, however, at hearing himself greeted as General Moyse by all the
boys; and even Genifrede smiled.

Margot moved, sighing, towards the rocks, to put up for her boys such
comforts as she could muster, and to prepare the meal which they must
have before they went. Her girls went with her; and Denis shouted after
them, that he was to get the cabbage from the palmetto, adding, that if
they gave him a good knife, he would take it off as neatly as the Paris
people took off the king. His father grasped his arm, and said--

"Never name the king, my boy, till you feel grieved that you have lost
him. You do not know what you say. Remember--never mention the king
unless we ask you."

Denis was glad to run after his cabbage. His father remembered to
praise it at dinner. No one else praised or liked anything. Margot and
Aimee were tearful; Genifrede was gloomy. The lads could think of
nothing but the new life before them, which yet they did not like to
question their father about, till they should have left the tears
behind. No sooner were they past the first turn up the ridge, than they
poured out their inquiries as to life in the camp, and the prospects of
the war. Their eager gestures were watched by those they left behind;
and there was a feeling of mortification in each woman's heart, on
seeing this evidence that home was already forgotten for busier scene