hawl over his shoulders, and
placed his pillows at his back. Perceiving that he still could not see
very distinctly, she opened another blind, so as to let one level ray of
sunshine fall upon the water-jar, and the little radiant creatures that
were hovering about it.

"There! there!" cried Monsieur Revel, in a pleased tone.

"Now I will go and bring you your coffee," said Euphrosyne.

"Stop, stop, child! Why are you in such a hurry? I want to know what
is the matter. Such a night as I have had!"

"A bad night, grandpapa? I am sorry."

"Bad enough! How came my light to go out? And what is all this
commotion in the streets?"

Euphrosyne went to the night-lamp, and found that a very large flying
beetle had disabled itself by breaking the glass, and putting out the
light. There it lay dead--a proof at least that there were no ants in
the room.

"Silly thing!" said Euphrosyne. "I do wish these beetles would learn to
fly properly. He must have startled you, grandpapa. Did not you think
it was a thief, when you were left in the dark?"

"It is very odd that nobody about me can find me a lamp that will serve
me. And then, what is all this bustle in the town? Tell me at once
what is the matter."

"I know of nothing the matter. The trompettes have been by this
morning; and they say that the Commander-in-chief is here: so there will
be nothing the matter. There was some talk last night, Pierre said--
some fright about to-day. But L'Ouverture is come; and it will be all
right now, you know."

"You know nothing about it, child--teazing one with your buzzing,
worrying humming-birds! Go and get my coffee, and send Pierre to me."

"The birds will come with me, I dare say, if I go by the balcony. I
will take them away."

"No, no. Don't lose time with them. Let them be. Go and send Pierre."

When Euphrosyne returned with the coffee, she found, as Pierre had found
before her, Monsieur Revel so engrossed in looking through his
spectacles at the water-jar, as to have forgotten what he had to ask and
to say.

"You will find the bath ready whenever you want it, grandpapa," said
Euphrosyne, as she placed the little tray before him: "and it is a sweet
airy morning."

"Ay; I must make haste up, and see what is to be done. It is not safe
to lie and rest in one's bed, in this part of the world." And he made
haste to stir his coffee with his trembling hands.

"Oh, you have often said that--almost ever sin