suddenly found themselves without a foe to subdue, and
without a population to protect. The volumes of smoke which the half
expiring embers emitted, while they marked the site of the peasant's
humble cottage, bore testimony to the extent of the work of destruction.
For several successive evenings the cattle assembled round the
smouldering ruins, as if in anxious expectation of the return of their
masters, while all night long the faithful watchdogs of the Neutrals
howled over the scene of desolation, and mourned alike the hand that had
fed, and the house that had sheltered them.

PART III. 1763-1803.

CHAPTER I. A NEW-YEAR'S DAY.

ON THE evening of New-Year's Day Grandfather was walking to and fro
across the carpet, listening to the rain which beat hard against the
curtained windows. The riotous blast shook the casement as if a strong
man were striving to force his entrance into the comfortable room. With
every puff of the wind the fire leaped upward from the hearth, laughing
and rejoicing at the shrieks of the wintry storm.

Meanwhile Grandfather's chair stood in its customary place by the
fireside. The bright blaze gleamed upon the fantastic figures of its
oaken back, and shone through the open work, so that a complete pattern
was thrown upon the opposite side of the room. Sometimes, for a moment
or two, the shadow remained immovable, as if it were painted on the
wall. Then all at once it began to quiver, and leap, and dance with a
frisky motion. Anon, seeming to remember that these antics were unworthy
of such a dignified and venerable chair, it suddenly stood still. But
soon it began to dance anew.

"Only see how Grandfather's chair is dancing!" cried little Alice.

And she ran to the wall and tried to catch hold of the flickering
shadow; for, to children of five years old, a shadow seems almost as
real as a substance.

"I wish," said Clara, "Grandfather would sit down in the chair and
finish its history."

If the children had been looking at Grandfather, they would have noticed
that he paused in his walk across the room when Clara made this remark.
The kind old gentleman was ready and willing to resume his stories of
departed times. But he had resolved to wait till his auditors should
request him to proceed, in order that they might find the instructive
history of the chair a pleasure, and not a task.

"Grandfather," said Charley, "I am tired to death of this dismal rain
and of hearing the win