Nor were these their only causes of excitement; for the great Bayfield elm, a rood below the gates and in full view of them, marked the westward boundary of the French prisoners on parole.

Some of these were quite regular in their walks for instance, Rear-Admiral de Wailly-Duchemin and General Rochambeau, who came at three o'clock or thereabouts on Wednesdays and Saturdays, summer and winter.

At six paces on the far side of the elm-- such was their punctilio--they halted, took snuff, linked arms again and turned back.

(Dorothea had entertained them both at Bayfield, and met them at dinner in one or two neighbouring houses.) On the same days, and on Mondays as well, old Jean Pierre Pichou, ex-boatswain of the _Didon_ frigate, would come along arm-in-arm with Julien Carales, alias Frap d'Abord, ex-_marechal des logis_--Pichou, with his wooden leg, and Frap d'Abord twisting a grey moustache and uttering a steady torrent of imprecation--or so it sounded.

These could be counted on; but scores of others stopped and turned at the Bayfield elm, and Polly had names for them all.