A great change was coming into her idyllic life.

She was indistinctly aware of it, as we sometimes are of an approaching storm, while yet the sky is sweetly blue and serene.
When she reached home the house was full of people to whom M.
Roussillon, in the gayest of moods, was dispensing wine and brandy.
"Vive Zhorzh Vasinton!" shouted Oncle Jazon as soon as he saw her.
And then they all talked at once, saying flattering things about her.
Madame Roussillon tried to scold as usual; but the lively chattering of the guests drowned her voice.
"I suppose the American commander will send a garrison here," some one said to Father Gibault, "and repair the fort." "Probably," the priest replied, "in a very few weeks.

Meantime we will garrison it ourselves." "And we will have M.Roussillon for commander," spoke up Rene de Ronville, who was standing by.
"A good suggestion," assented Father Gibault; "let us organize at once." Immediately the word was passed that there would be a meeting at the fort that evening for the purpose of choosing a garrison and a commander.

Everybody went promptly at the hour set.

M.Roussillon was elected Captain by acclamation, with Rene de Ronville as his Lieutenant.